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binmeister · 7 days ago

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Morally Grey - Headcanon / notes

Saja Boys x Demon Assistant! Reader (Fem)

Thinking about a demon assistant!reader instead of a demon manager!reader because you’re not actually managing their activities, you’re not scheduling events or doing all the things expected of someone to manage them. You’re there to assist their plan.

More headcanon-y than the normal stuff, just wanted to get the ideas jotted down and not that invested in writing a full story. Primarily still follows most of the movie plot. Title means nothing it just sounded cool in my head.

CW: potential angst, unformatted and not proofread, fan HC heavy, may contain mature / dark themes, these are just my loose HCs and notes

Premise

There’s demons that feast on human souls and take pride in it, but there’s also demons that still have remnants of their humanity in tact - that fight back against Gwi-Ma as their little ‘fuck you’ to him. What if you were like that?

He had no hold over you, you were disinterested in the memories he tries to control you with - your loved ones had been dead for centuries it doesn’t matter what you do now, what’s done is done and you accepted that already. Gwi-Ma wanted control and he’ll get it one way or another.

So you’re forced to assist with Jinu’s plan, despite your obvious disinterest. Despite your clear distain at the idea of hurting people. But you go along with it because Abs wanted to spend time with you, because Mystery asked you sweetly and because Jinu looked at you like he was on the verge of breaking apart.

Curse your remaining empathy.

You didn’t really care for whatever plots or schemes Gwi-Ma demanded of you, at this day and age if you remember right you’re maybe at 450 years of existence give or take - not accounting for the 20 or so years you were actually human

The first 50 years of him tormenting you with the memories of your family or loved ones had stopped meaning anything, at this rate you’ve spent more time as a demon than you ever did alive with them so what do these memories even mean anymore? He could conjure up a dragon and say that it was your father and you’d believe him at this point - because it stopped meaning anything to you

You’ve spat that at him, told him that directly to his dying flame - he was furious and burned you with your markings for hours before getting bored and tossing you aside: you’re just one of millions of demons, why does it matter anyway?

You weren’t alone in this, knew other demons who also functioned similarly where none of you could care less - what’s he gonna do anyway, eat you? Kill you? Not much of a threat if it means you’re free of purgatory from him

At this rate he keeps you and the other like-minded individuals like you alive to torture you but you’ve grown bored

Tired

He doesn’t stop any demons from sneaking to the surface when they’re able, he wants them to succeed in whatever scheme they want after all so it’s not anyone’s business what you do

And what do you do?

You sneak up in your once human form, clad in whatever time appropriate clothes matched the living and breathing humans around you and you walked amongst them, observed them, quietly adored them from afar

You just people watched.

Your not-so-secret little hobby as you watched people, watch their happy moments, their sad moments, their worst and best moments, you even had the privilege to watch a few souls from the time they were able to crawl to the time they were being laid to rest surrounded by people who loved and remembered them

That thought was what occasionally made you sad.. that no one remembered you, but realistically you didn’t remember you

You have a habit of keeping your human illusion on in hell, not always, just enough so you wouldn’t forget what you use to look like - a little scared that if you forget then there’s no evidence that you existed before, Gwi-Ma tried to use that against you and you didn’t fight back just let it happen and then he got bored because you weren’t screaming or fearful

Aside from demons with similar mindsets you’re close with the demons that eventually become the Saja Boys, not because you sought them out but because it just lined up - all relatively tossed into hell at similar time periods

Baby shares what he remembers of his life with you, his face is so young and when he talks about the desperation he faced you feel bad for him but admit that you don’t.. know how to comfort him.. that you’ve forgotten

But he doesn’t stop you whenever you seem to think he feels down, doesn’t stop you when you pull him into your arms and softly hum some tune that you’ve memorised from one of your human retreats

You teach him how to read, when he admitted that he wasn’t sure what that was - each era that goes by you bring him a piece of literature that you’ve smuggled in from the surface and you sit down and teach him what things mean - what words are what, what the current trend of slang is

Mystery had lashed out at you on your first meeting, unable to fathom what he had become and he was feral - but you didn’t look at him in anger or disgust, just sadness

And it made him hate you for a while. Every time he encountered you, he’d growl and swipe at you but you never fought back, just let him do what he wanted as he cuts at your arm for the umpteenth time and occasionally you’d smuggle something delicious for him and offer it as a peace offering

Eventually he’d been at peace with you, opened up a little about himself and when he feels like he’s losing who he becomes.. you tell him what he told you, remembering the pieces of himself that he had started to forget and it’s enough to keep him satiated for a while as you two often just sit in silence together the times where you aren’t able to escape

Abs had admitted to you one day when he had tagged along with you on your people watching escapade that he didn’t remember anything from his previous life

He’d been wiped clean, the only thing that torments him is just an overwhelming sense of guilt or rage that gets ramped up when Gwi-Ma isn’t happy with him but other than that it’s.. empty up there.. which seemed worse in your opinion

When you first met him he didn’t emote much, expression neutral most of the time and then you and Jinu teach him how to feel again, feel things other than the guilt and rage and he learns to laugh even though he doesn’t remember why it’s important, on his second century he figures out why it’s fun to laugh again but he manages to suppress Gwi-Ma’s influence over that

Romance is scared of you. You notice immediately when Abs and Jinu introduce him when they come across him when he first lands in hell, he’s terrified of you in particular

He’s not scared of Abs’ or Jinu’s height or frames, he’s scared of you - because you’re a woman, or at least once were a woman

He notices that you stop getting in his space, that whenever he shows up and sits on the ground you’ll shift over so you’re not touching him - he realises that you know he’s scared of you but you’re not disgusted or annoyed by it, you’re still talking to him and engaging in conversation with him when he joins in and over time he steadily becomes more comfortable and initiates conversation with you

At some point he’s stopped flinching if your knees accidentally bump against each other, instead he gives you a smile and his eyes sparkle with warmth - something so foreign to all of you

Jinu is.. someone that you have a mutual respect with is how to word it

He’s the most affected by his memories and it often leads to arguments and walking on eggshells, the entirety of the centuries you knew him there’d be days he was alright - bantering with everyone, engaging in conversations

Then there’s other days where the memories are loud and he snaps at you in particular, because he admits that he hates the fact that you’re not suffering like he was and you admit to him that you envy him. Envy the fact that he still remembers what they meant to him. When he asks you to elaborate you point out that you’ve spent more time with Abs and Baby in the last year of knowing them in comparison to the 2 decades you had with your supposed family, you honestly didn’t even know if they were your family in the first place because sometimes there were inconsistencies in the torment - the faces blurred

“I envy the fact that they mean anything to you.” “What?” “They stopped meaning anything to me after he dangled the memories over my head for half a century.. I’ve known all of you longer than 5 of my human life spans could fathom. And you expect me to cling onto people that I don’t remember anymore?”

Most of your interactions are neutral, sometimes even good, then Gwi-Ma yanks on the leash he has on Jinu and he pulls away again

I have a HC that Jinu is the most active for this plan and the others had just followed his lead bc there wasnt much else to do honestly and it sounded kinda fun to do, they’ve got so much time on their hands and had just existed for years without really doing much aside from occasionally going up and sapping a soul or two - and with Gwi-Ma weakening they had 0 issues being on stand by but they see how Jinu is falling apart by the day and want to help him because they did learn to care

When Jinu discloses his plan, you were originally going to skip the congregation and just go people watch like you always did but Abs had grabbed your hand before you could sneak away and begged you to be there - just be a bystander because it’d for them

What you don’t expect is for Gwi-Ma to accept the proposal. For his twisted and sick fiery head to lift you up out of the crowd and force you up the stairs and slam you onto the stone flooring as you grunt out in pain, telling you on the spot that you’ll be responsible for assisting Jinu in his little scheme - when you deny him and fight back he amps up the torture, forces the others to watch as he burns you and watches you writhe in pain until you crack and agree in front of the crowd - in front of the guys

The moment you are released you’re silent, your body feeling like it was made of molten lava as you nod blankly because the pain is too much to bare for once and he laughs at your suffering - you hear the distant laughter of other demons as they follow his lead albeit hesitantly

Getting dismissed after Gwi-Ma and Jinu have their moment you don’t speak to any of them, not when Abs asks if you’re okay, not when Mystery tries to reach out to you or when Romance or Baby try to catch your eye, Jinu even tries to catch you but you refuse to look at any of them as you try to process what’s due to happen

Jinu isn’t talking to you like before, instead primarily speaking of the plan and you all collectively ignore the elephant in the room that is what little there is left of your morals being tested for this plan - to break the honmoon and let Gwi-Ma reign supreme

Your tasks as the ‘assistant’ isn’t that much, primarily sharing what you know about the current world, because you have the most experience with the modern times and when they show you their human forms you cringe at their ugly outfits - Abs is the least offensive as he’s gone with you before on your people watching excursions but the others’.. are rough

you tell them that you’ll be the one to co-ordinate their outfits, things that will compliment them and make them look good and they’re all sceptical - even Abs

you grumble as a puff of pink smoke engulfs you briefly, now changed into one of your well-dressed outfits alongside your human form and they all pause - it’s not the usual hoodies you’d wear to blend in, it’s something nice that compliments your figure and suits your skin tone

you’ve even done your hair so it’s styled nicely with a cute matching hair pin and they begrudgingly agree to being dressed by you

you had broken down current music trends, explained what could make stand out in the current scope of tough bad boy music and girl crush music - something light and refreshing would break the market (prior to this plan you had shared this information as part of your usual info snippets when they asked about whats going on above, not knowing jinu was using this information for the plan)

when you’re tasked to help them secure a venue, Jinu already knows you have a place in mind and tasks the other guys with getting that information out of you

He knows youre not invested, knows youre trying to hide information but he knows as well that you cant help but offer up info to people when they ask with earnest

Mystery asks you, takes the time to take you aside and quietly asks you where you think a good place to go would be and youre hesitant but instead of describing it.. you take him with you so he can see himself

You warn him that it will be loud, it will be busy, you know he comes up the least aside from Jinu so you tell him if its overwhelming to let you know

When you lead him to the public square he’s a little tripped out, looking blankly at all the shiny buildings and wow that ones made of almost all glass- but he follows your direction as you point out where you think would be a good spot to try for, then he asks about what else is in the area

And you tell him with this little sparkle in your eye what you know, about the little food stalls, about how on Mondays theres a little farmer that comes in with his truck and fresh crops he sells at a low rate bc hes so proud of himself, about how theres usually a lot more teens on a Friday as theyre running around hanging out and prolonging the inevitable of having to go home to do more homework

The sound of the crowd is drowned out to him as he focusses on your voice alone, doesnt even notice when a person or two bumps into him on their way by and apologises about it bc hes so wrapped up on whatever youre describing - the little snippets of genuine joy as you share small unimportant observations

When you return back later he thanks you for taking him and he sees the smile on your face turn cold, but you still muster up the energy to say “you’re welcome” as your patterns surface

The first performance, the guilt is already steadily building up as you see people so excited about the Saja Boys debut

You’re watching them perform off to the side, looking at all the people so excited about the impromptu performance and cheering

Your heart feels full watching how happy everyone is for a moment you forget about the plan, a smile on your face as you get to witness their fleeting moments of joy

You don’t notice the hunters, and the hunters dont notice you, as you slip away from the crowd once the performance is done and you dont meet up with the boys again

Instead you wander aimlessly, appreciating the warmth of the afternoon sun and the bustling of the crowd

The peace

Abs appears abruptly, bringing an arm to wrap it around your shoulders in a playful manner but before he can, the words asking about how their performance was to you die on his tongue as he just observes your serene expression as you continued to look at the people around you

He doesnt interrupt you, letting his arm drop and just watching with a calm expression on his face and waits for you to notice him before he asks you how you thought they did

“I liked it.. you guys are good.” At your small praise, the way your lips curl into a genuine smile, it makes him feel something and it feels good

“..i wonder if it will be okay..” you murmured softly but he heard it, heard the hesitation and guilt leaking in but he doesnt engage - instead just follows you around as you continue to look around and enjoy your little hobby - the pretence of being human

After the game show that night, after their scuffle with the hunters - they come looking for you because they know you wouldnt go back right away, Jinu had split from them when he had his moment with Rumi

They catch you observing from a ways away, staring at something down by the street and they follow your line of sight to where theres a few teenagers recording themselves doing the Soda Pop dance, laughing and making fun of each other as they redo the take

You look sad as you watch them, they watch you hug yourself and the way you scratch at your arms slightly like you need to self soothe - hear you whisper “they’re so young..”

No one says anything but Baby does go up and drops his head on your shoulder and you jolt, not expecting the contact and you almost turned to punch him had he not wrapped a familiar arm around your waist and quietly mumbled in his low voice that “you’re normally happier when you watch them (humans)”

He doesnt hear you reply but he feels you tense up under his arm, then youre all groaning as Gwi-Ma starts murmuring in your heads before youre all pulled down and into the crowd of awaiting demons

You dispel your human form first, breaking contact with Baby as everyones cheering and gushing over the boys - you slink into the crowd and out of the spotlight

Then someone screams about the soul dropping from the sky and you feel your stomach drop as you watch the light come down

The boys had dispelled their appearances by now, looking exhausted at the act they’d put on all day and you don’t stay long enough to see Jinu appearing by Gwi-Ma as you rush to get away

Jinu’s first secret meeting with Rumi you had caught him, before she had appeared, you talked to him and asked him what he was planning and he shrugged and said its just a casual talk

But you know better, you know he can be cunning so you give him shit for it

“She’s a human girl, Jinu. Her heart is fragile.” “She’ll get over it.” “She won’t.”

You’re frustrated at him, at his dismissive nature as he shrugs you off and tells you to piss off, before you leave you say over your shoulder that you “..hope you’re not playing around with her for fun. Thought you were at least above that.”

After he’s done messing with Rumi he seeks you out, not really knowing he’s actively doing it when he comes across you overlooking the city at some lookout area and just quietly observing it - the city lights frame you as you lean against the railing and it makes him misstep and almost fumble over himself

Your head turns to look at him flailing to look cool and you don’t laugh, just raise an eyebrow at him and you dont even smile because youre still pissed off at him

He gives you an awkward smile as he comes up to lean against the railing as well and neither of you say anything until you say something before he can

“You know what she is now, don’t you?”

Hes surprised, questions you on how you know and you shrug at him saying plainly that youve been around long enough to spot her when she’s having a meltdown in a not so private area here and there when she thinks no ones around to hear her cry

“..Jinu don’t play with her heart.” You say it like a plea and he scoffs a little, running a hand through his hair as he’s adamant that she’ll get over it and its not that big of a deal and you finally cut him down with

“You’ve had 400 years, to get over yourself. And you expect her to get over this in her time alive? You’re playing with her heart.” He freezes for a moment before his anger flares up in return “Stay out of my business.”

“I never wanted to be part of your business, you brought me into it.” You’re both furious, patterns on full display over your human skin as you glare at eachother

You knew why Gwi-Ma forced you to assist, yeah, you knew. Jinu was the one to call your name up because when you replay the memory of that moment in your head you see the regret and guilt on Jinu’s face as he watches you suffer for his benefit

The plan is succeeding, explosively at that - everywhere you went is their song playing, their human facades plastered everywhere and you feel conflicted

on one hand you should feel happy that their plan is succeeding, that things are going good

But then you feel sick at the fact that all these people are so happy and enjoying themselves without knowing they’re being used, someone’s late night snack could mean they become a demon’s late night snack

You’ve watched unsuspecting victims as demons lurk behind them and suck out their souls, there’s an instance where you attack a demon that’s about to feed off a young child and when they ask ‘Unnie what’re you doing?’ you smile at them and say that there was a big scary bee and you were trying to keep them safe as they squeal and hide behind you at that, that demon still remembers you and grumbles about it when he next sees you

There’s a moment where you’re down below, watching all the souls fall from the sky with the other Saja Boy members as you sit over a cliff to watch it all and you can’t stomach it knowing that it couldve been any of the faces that you’ve seen yourself - people who were oblivious because they were just trying to find some semblance of joy in their short life time

Romance catches you as you’re leaving, hand on your shoulder to stop you for a moment, then he sees the conflicted emotions in your eyes and he doesn’t stop you when you disappear from his grasp - just lets you go

So it leads you to the look out again, chest heavy as you look at the peace of the city knowing that your fellow demons are wrecking havoc and indulging in their hunger and greed

You can’t take it as the shame and guilt eats you alive, your patterns burn and you can hear Gwi-Ma cackling in your head as he mocks you and reminds you that it’s your fault for helping, your fault for assisting, has always been your fault for caring

In your past life time and now he reminds you that it was always your fault because all you did was care too much that you were blinded by it and would help anyone.. including the people who could turn on you at any point and then the blurred faces he used to torment you with are clear, faces of family friends you thought you could trust when you’d been ‘blessed’ by Gwi-Ma, the same faces that gleefully stole from you and abused you after you had helped them, the same that pointed and framed you for things you didn’t do which lead to your death as you were bludgeoned and thrown carelessly into the river

Everything caves in and you’ve collapsed to your knees, heaving air into your lungs as the tears don’t stop and Gwi-Ma continues to laugh in your head as he distorts those old voices, the ones you thought you had forgotten as they all laugh at you for being a fool

You don’t hear when footsteps approach you, you don’t hear the sound of a blade cutting through the air until you feel the relief of a cold blade pressed against your neck

“You.. you’re always around the Saja Boys.” You hear Mira’s voice as she speaks, her weapon gripped tightly in her hand as she holds it against your neck and you finally turn - eyes wide and expression frazzled as you realise the three hunters were surrounding you, weapons drawn and ready to end you if you move wrong

But they don’t expect you to lean into the sharp weapon, to press it deeper into your neck until it makes a cut and there’s blood leaking out as your hand tries and press it even deeper

“Wait- you can’t-” You hear Rumi’s voice and then you vaguely remember seeing a puff of smoke as familiar hands grab you and you’re taken away, to some secluded park and you vaguely remember hearing the sound of Romance’s voice as he calls out “Sorry, we’ll be taking our assistant home now.”

You’re quiet as you feel Abs arms hold you tight before he lets you down on the grass, lets you reorient yourself as you realise the four demons you’ve grown accustomed to had followed you up - watched you break down into your most vulnerable state and refused to let you go

No one says anything, no one reprimands you for being stupid and trying to get yourself killed, you feel Baby’s hand on the cut on your neck and he complains as he pulls it back and licks your blood off his hand before he leans down to make sure that your body is regenerating - even if you didn’t want it to it’s already done

You don’t look at them, your head is lowered as they watch your patterns shift and seemingly consume what little skin there is that isn’t already covered in markings and they don’t force you to go back down with them - just quietly stay in the vicinity of you because they’d be disingenuous if they said they knew what you were feeling

Mystery drops a jacket on you and though their bodies are facing you, they keep their gaze away to give you some semblance of privacy as they let you continue to cry your eyes out until you’re throat is hoarse and you ask if they can take you back home

After Jinu has his moment with Rumi and Gwi-Ma drags him back down to mock him in front of everyone, he’s a little listless as he wanders about and gets himself sorted for their last performance - the one that will make a difference for everything

he doesn’t know that you’ve encountered the hunters, doesn’t know that Rumi had hesitated on having you killed because she never mentioned you

As he’s getting dressed and prepared to look the role - the group and you in their dressing room as the last pieces of their plan comes together, you finally break and ask Jinu in front of the others “Don’t you feel selfish?” he pauses as he finishes buttoning up his shirt and he calmly responds that “No, the memories will be gone and I’ll be free”

“What about the people here?” You ask and point out that he’s lived for centuries and most of them will be lucky if they make it to a fraction of that with their memories and joy still in tact, clearly even less now with the approaching doomsday - you hear Abs try to interject and say that things are going smoothly but you and Jinu keep going at eachother

“Just because you lost your humanity doesn’t mean these people have to suffer for it.” Your voice was quiet, softer than normal but the words were loud and cut deep.

“I don’t want to suffer anymore.” Jinu responds - tone flat because he doesn’t want to hesitate anymore.

“So they should?” You snap at him.

“What would you know! Huh?” He whirls around finally, expression crazed as his voice rumbles.

“What do you know about me, Jinu? Tell me. What do you know about me. It’s always about your memories, always about how you feel, everyone walks on eggshells around you so tell me. What. Do. You. Know. About. Me. About anyone, about any of the guys.” You’re jabbing at his chest now, with each pointed word you’ve emphasised it with a pointed finger jabbing into his chest.

“I don’t-”

“Did you know that Baby is illiterate?” Baby freezes, eyes downcast when Jinu looks at him in shock.

“What-”

“That Mystery keeps to himself because he’s scared he’ll lash out at you guys and hurt you.” Mystery shrinks in on himself, self conscious as he instinctively starts playing with his hands.

“...”

“That Abby doesn’t recall a damn thing from his past life and is still tormented.” Abs doesn’t pipe up, just stays leant against the wall with his arms crossed as he listens to everything happen.

“Wait I..-”

“That Romance is actually terrified of women. Do you? Do you know anything about any of us?” Romance doesn’t say anything either, when Jinu meets his eye he just breaks the eye contact and fixes up his shirt.

“We’ve known you for centuries and you push us aside, now you’re using an innocent girl to get what you want.”

“And how does that affect you? You’re a demon, like me.” Jinu is hurt, his throat tightening up and he feels like he’s about to burst into tears as he sees yours brimming before spilling down your face as you try to keep your voice steady.

“Because I believed that you were still human. And I was clearly wrong for that.” You left them after that, not storming out but steps confident as you excuse yourself and leave. As you trail further and further away from the room you hear Gwi-Ma roar in your head about how joyous that was to witness and soon you find yourself in front of him again.

Your human form is crumbling, the demonic part of you no longer trying to hide as you stare at the ground below your feet as Gwi-Ma giggles gleefully

“Ah.. how I’ve wanted to see you like this for so long.” He comments as he absolutely revels in your suffering, then he continues on “Though.. would’ve preferred if you didn’t meddle with the others, they were doing so well without you making them feel free enough to think about anything but their suffering.”

You don’t scream when he attacks you, you don’t fight back as he ups the anti, you’ve already lost whatever war you’d been fighting against Gwi-Ma as he finally consumes you now that you’re pitiful and broken

The final steps of the plan are succeeding, Huntrix has publicly broken up now and Jinu and the boys deliver the message on the last special performance - keeping up the pretty faces for the announcement before they allow themselves to get ready to perform in their true forms

They don’t know you’ve been consumed by Gwi-Ma, he’s gotten some low level demon to borrow your appearance and apologise to the boys - to trick them into thinking you were alive and well and on board with the plan

They’re confused, don’t believe it’s you but they don’t have time to explore that as they need to get on stage now - ‘you’ wave at them and as the song starts they catch the demonic grin that slips onto ‘your’ face and they realise that sensation they had earlier like something important had been cut from the sliver of a soul they had left was the real you - that you were gone now

#kpop demon hunters x reader #saja boys x reader #kpdh x reader #jinu x reader #baby saja x reader #abs saja x reader #mystery x reader #romance x reader

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monstersholygrail · 8 months ago

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New City, New Life

5k celebration 'Choose your own adventure' story

Dragon x fem!reader— hate fucking, rough sex, marking, fire breath play, restraints (tail)

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3

You stomp out of Minotaur Boss’ office in a blind rage. Your vision blurring with either anger or arousal, you’re not exactly sure. The sound of the door slamming open doesn’t attract any attention, your coworkers far too busy fucking to watch how hot you look when mad. But you can’t help but watch them, eyes drawn to the carefree way they drown in their pleasure. Caring more for satisfying themselves than continuing to work their job.

It was simply astonishing. They all hold a freedom you’ve never known. Not until yesterday when you got here, that is. The longer you stare the hotter your body grows, your pussy gushing with arousal. You feel your world spin, trying to accommodate to your new reality as you would have to accommodate a massive cock. Your thoughts quickly stray away from your mission, the arousal overtaking the anger brewing within you.

For a moment you seriously consider joining one of them. If this is your new life, who’s to say you shouldn’t take advantage of it? You bite your lip, slowing your pace as you walk past a pair of Cat Hybrids who look like they’re in heat.

No—

You can’t risk getting too distracted right now. You had to go confront your Dragon Headhunter and maybe, just maybe, you can blow some of this steam off on him. In whatever form that may take. With a deep inhale you try and clear some of the lust clouding your mind. You turn back toward the conference room, intent on going in, when you immediately bump into a man devouring someone like it’s his last meal.

A small yelp leaves you as you go flying back, not wanting to interrupt, but you quickly lose your footing and once again go tumbling to the ground. You briefly wonder if that sexy Secretary Bunny will catch you again. No! Focus! But then a pair of hands are on you and your heart, and your pussy, flutters.

The stranger’s hands quickly switch you around, causing you to plop firmly in his lap as you straddle him. A moan freely slips past your lips as you already feel his fully hard cock beneath you. As your head snaps up to look at your new rescuer your jaw drops, your eyes sweeping over his infuriatingly and impossibly perfect features.

But unlike everyone else you’ve met in this city… he appears perfectly human. That is until his eyes flicker, his pupils forming a small flame to reflect his burning desire. He wasn’t a human, he was a robot. No wonder he’s the most perfect specimen you’ve ever seen. You glance down, eyes trailing his form when you notice his IT badge. How ironic.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the main event falling right into my lap,” he purrs, voice smooth as silk as he leans in, brushing his nose along your jaw.

A small whine leaves you, his skin impossibly smooth against yours. Your eyes flutter and you hate how easily you melt against him. An IT Robot shouldn’t be so damn comfortable. You find yourself baring your neck to him, seeking more of his touch. His dark chuckle vibrates against your skin and you shiver, unintentionally grinding against him. Or was it on purpose? Fuck, you couldn’t even tell anymore.

“Technically you got me into your lap,” you sigh with bliss, your brain only growing fuzzier the longer you stay in his embrace.

It was like he knew exactly where and how to touch you. You were sure it was just from some strange programming he’s downloaded but who were you to question it? The IT Robot’s touch slips beneath your shirt and his large hands caress your curves reverently.

“And what else can I get you to do with me?” IT Robot’s voice rasps and curls into your ear as if putting you under a spell. A spell called his cock. He rolls his hips as he speaks, pressing his hard length roughly against your clothed clit.

“Nngh… N-nothing! I have to go, but damn I wish I didn’t,” you say through gritted teeth.

You force yourself out of his lap, your body vibrating and your cunt pulsing with need. You push the office chair he was sitting in away from you and he laughs. The chair stops as it bumps into another person but his eyes don’t stray from you.

“You’re always welcome, doll.”

It takes all the strength left in your tired and yet still somehow horny body to turn away from the sexy IT Robot but you do. You keep your eyes firmly trained on Conference room D, determined to see this through. Your Dragon Headhunter is the only one right now who deserves the impact of all your pent up emotions.

As you near the door, you stop short, surprised when it opens. For a second you wait with bated breath, wondering if maybe the Dragon Headhunter is looking for you too. You don’t even question the way your pussy floods with arousal. But your stomach drops as a Fae walks out of the conference room and sneaks off, not even seeing you staring after them.

Your fury returns tenfold to the point where you can’t even think straight. You rush for the door, barging in and smashing it closed behind you. The Dragon Headhunter jumps from the noise, lazily glancing over his shoulder at you. Your eyes automatically widen, a gasp leaving you as you finally see him in person. You’d video called dozens of times yet it all paled in comparison to seeing him face-to-face.

He was broad and painstakingly attractive. His scales glimmer in the sunlight that streaks in from the floor-to-ceiling windows. His suit fits tight against his chest, leaving nothing to the imagination of what lies beneath. The fabric clinging to his thick ass and strong thighs. A slow smirk forms on his lips. The sight has you shuddering where you stand and it only serves to make you more angry.

“Well, if it isn’t my newest treasure…”

Your eyes flash, focus returning back to his face. Just in time too to see the smug look painted across his face. You’re in front of him in an instant only to push him back. The creature barely even moves. He sways, although you know he only did it for your benefit.

“Where have you been? You have no idea what’s happened today?” you ask lowly, hands shaking from your anger. Sure, the dicks been great, but this wasn’t how you expected your new life to start.

It’s Dragon Headhunter’s turn to look you up and down, noting your disheveled appearance and lustful expression. It has his smirk growing somehow wider across his face. He crosses his arms, admiring what he’s done to you, what this city has turned you into.

“I believe I have an idea.”

The air grows thick between you and the Dragon Headhunter. You can barely breathe, only managing short shaky breaths as you stare each other down. Your skin burns under his gaze but you refuse to squirm and let him win.

“Of course you do. ‘Cause you fucking tricked me into coming here. Why?” You ask firmly, finally demanding answers from him. You won’t be leaving here without them. And you’ll do anything to get them.

You slowly walk up to him, trying your best to intimidate a beast such as him. But all you do is make yourself feel smaller as he towers over you. The height different has your pussy clenching around nothing. His nostrils immediately flare and you know he can smell how turned on you are. You cry out and push him back again with all your strength.

“Why?!” You demand with a ragged shout.

Without a single word, Dragon Headhunter swoops down and claims your lips in a searing kiss to shut you up. A low moan rumbles through your throat and the Dragon responds with one of his own. One that has you turning to mush in his arms. Your mouths clash together as they fight for dominance. The Dragon’s claws sink into the flesh of your wide hips and he whirls you around, pressing your ass into the conference room table.

Dragon Headhunter ravages you, his tongue swirling through your mouth as if trying to taste every last bit of you. He pushes against you harder and harder until he growls and lifts your plush frame up like it’s nothing and drops you easily on top of the table. You grunt and throw his arms off of you, forcing him to kiss at your pace. His claws sink into the wood and screech loudly as he drags them down, trying to resist grabbing at you again. But as you suck his tongue into your mouth he can’t take it any longer.

He pushes you all the way down on the table with as much as a small shove. You cry out as you go flying back, glaring at him. Dragon Headhunter starts furiously trying to shred off your clothes. You grunt and wrestle against him to get your clothes off without ruining them. He doesn’t bother, shredding his own clothes with a few swipes of his claws. You two glare at each other even as lust fills your gazes. He jerks your legs open to reveal your glistening folds and smoke leaves his snout with his huffs.

“This is where I fucked that pathetic little fae and now it’s where I’m gonna give you their sloppy seconds,” he snarls in your face and you grit your teeth. Your stomach churns with a jealous rage.

Before you can snap back at him, Dragon Headhunter snaps his hips forward, impaling you on his massive cock with a solid stroke. Fire shoots from your core and burns through your entire body. A fierce scream echoes off the walls and your pussy spasms around his girth as your body tries to adjust to being split open on his cock.

But the Dragon barely lets you take a breath before he’s rearing back and snapping his hips back against yours. You groan lowly, actually thankful for all your previous lays today as they helped prepare you for this. Your pussy opens up for him, allowing him to drive in even deeper inside you with each movement. Letting your fury fuel you, jerk your hips, meeting his thrusts. The Dragon’s eyes roll back in his head.

“F-fuuuuck— augh— knew this fuckhole was gonna be good without even seeing it. Looked like a damn slut who’d take anything given to them,” he says darkly, his tongue slipping as he gets more and more lost in the pleasure of your cunt.

Your eyes narrow at him, no matter how good he’s making you feel. Each pump of his hips brushes along every nerve in your core and it sends you flying, your body shaking with unimaginable pleasure. Your sopping cunt sucks him back in with every thrust, needing him inside you despite everything.

Wanting to drive him to the brink of insanity, your hands snap out and sink in between his sensitive scales. The Dragon throws back his head and lets out a ferocious roar. Then he falls forward, elbows caging you in and rutting up into your perfect pussy.

“Tell me why you sold me on this job. Did you think I was right for it?” you ask lowly, your breaths mingling with your close vicinity. Needing to ask and know the truth.

Dragon Headhunter chuckles and your pussy flutters around him, making him groan. He leans in and bites down on your neck, marking you with the memory of this moment. Then he leans back enough to look in your eye to deliver the blow.

“Nah, I just wanted this sweet cunt,” he says breathlessly, his words so simple yet infuriating. You dig your nails into the flesh beneath his scales the Dragon groans in pain, his hips surging forward into your tight heat.

“Fuck you.”

Dragon Headhunters eyes burn brightly, finally matching the anger in your own gaze. He smirks wickedly, flashing his fangs at you in a clear threat.

“Gladly.”

His tail whips out, quickly wrapping around your wrists and pinning you to the table. With a growl that sends chills up your spine, the Dragon picks up his pace, fucking up into you with a stamina your poor human body can barely handle as it jerks up with every thrust. A loud mewl rips from your throat as his cock bullies into your cervix with each stroke. His eyes gleam devilishly as he watches how much of a mess he’s turning you into.

But it’s not enough. His free hand flies to your puffy little clit and rubs your bundle of nerves in time with his thrusts. Your jaw drops, all the sensations building up inside you have you nearly losing your mind.

You scream in relief a when you finally fall off the edge. Your body shaking, hips rising off the table with the force of your orgasm. For a moment you see white and you hear the Dragon roar once more as he follows right after you. And when you open your eyes you gasp to see fire shooting out from his throat, teasing you. The heat it emits just turns you on even more, prolonging an already intense climax.

It’s only once you finally come down from the high of a lifetime do you seem to gain common sense again. You huff, your anger still palpable but more half-hearted as you tear yourself away from him. You slide off the table, heading toward your discarded clothes, needing to get out of here.

“I’m leaving,” you announce, quickly sliding your clothes back on. Ignoring the way your combined release drips out of you and pools in your panties.

“You’re under contract, sweets,” Dragon Headhunter replies, his tone filled with amused arrogance.

You whip around to face him yet unable to reply. He’s right. You’re stuck here. But is it really that bad that you are?

Seeing your hesitance to reply, thoughts clearly spinning through your mind, Dragon Headhunter smirks and saunters up to you in all his naked glory. “Welcome to Free Use City. Embrace it.”

Leaving the conference room you think over what he said. This was your chance at a fresh start and you wanted to make the most of it. In a Free Use City you guess that meant fucking strangers. Truly embracing the city for what it was and what it offered. You could do that! In your office building alone there were hundreds of people to choose from. You look around the office, wondering if IT Robot’s offer was still on the table. He’s bound to know everything about pleasuring a human. Or perhaps you could find Bunny Secretary and see if you could throw yourself at him again. And well… there was always that Demon Guard you passed on the way in. You’re sure he could show a sinful time.

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stealingyourbones · 1 year ago

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A side effect of Danny’s death by the ghost portal was his wings. They were beautiful in his human form, a sparrow's wings with feathers of light blue matching with patches of white, reminiscent of a cloudy day. In his ghost form they were horrifying. The feathers forever smoking and lightly smoldering, wings blackened with soot that couldn’t be removed no matter how hard you tried. The feather’s shafts and barbs glow a toxic green that dim and brighten at random intervals. The smell of electrical fire and burning flesh permanently lingering on the charred wings. Danny covers up his wings sudden appearance as a metagene making itself present after a traumatic event. It makes sense. He got shocked by the portal so he acquired an ability similar to Ghosts. Normally metagenes adapt to strengthen oneself in a way that relates to the incident that activates them so this isn’t unusual. After all, all ghosts had wings. Wings that displayed how they died or one’s obsession. Ember's wings were perpetually burning, her feathers wreathed in blue flames. Lunch Lady’s feathers made of meaty flesh, Skulker's armor had tactical metal wings that could shoot their feathers with deadly precision while his actual body had small bat wings that looked as if they were made of stitched together pelts. — Jason doesn’t know how he got wings after being dipped in the Lazarus Pit but apparently it happens in rare cases when the deceased was dead for a prolonged period of time before revival by the Pits. His beautiful giant hawklike wings were a brilliant intimidation tactic when spread to their full wingspan, the dark red plumage speckled with brown, looking like his wings were dipped in blood. They were as beautiful as they were useful. The wings were capable of flight and made no sound while in the air, perfect for traversing Gotham and for stealth missions. The one thing that confused both Jason and the LoA was that his wings would sometimes change. Whenever the pits clouded his mind you could see his wings appear to bend and twist, looking like they broke in several places and didn’t heal correctly. The brown fading away and the dark red of his wings lightening to a cherry color and the lower feathers changing to an ombre of yellow and green. The beautiful plumage now tarnished with scorch marks and concrete dust, the glow of embers scattered around his feathers burning brighter and brighter a bright toxic green the more the pits overwhelmed him.

#dpxdc #danny phantom #dp x dc #bones prompts

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kira-dofc · 1 year ago

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Mafia boss! Sukuna x Male reader

Notes- This was supposed to be a Gojo fic but Sukuna fitted this shit better its too dark for Gojo :(

Wc- 3055

Warnings: SMUT! NSFW, unprotected sex, dub-con, breeding, omegaverse, top/bottom, sub/dom, bottom male reader, overstimulation

Flashes of orange and yellow flames streaked past you, casting a fierce glow that punctuated the night with a hellish light. The deafening crack of gunshots shattered the eerie silence, bullets whizzing through the air like deadly fireflies. It was 10:00 p.m., and the city that never slept was now cloaked in an ominous stillness, save for the chaos erupting around you. Frantically, you ran, heart pounding like a war drum in your chest, fleeing from the world's most notorious mafia. For years, they had hunted down omegas with unrelenting ferocity, and tonight, you had become their latest target. As the last of your kind, you had been hiding from them for a long time. Unluckily, tonight marked the end of your concealment. You were unique, hailing from a wealthy lineage.

Your family had perished before your eyes, leaving you to carry on the bloodline. It was them. It had always been them. They murdered your family, your only family. And you had been too naive to do anything but hide, bearing all the responsibilities alone. But that was six years ago. Now, you needed to devise a way to throw them off your trail.

Bloodstains smeared almost your entire body. Your legs were limp, and one of your bones was broken. You fled toward the heart of the city, tears streaming down your cheeks as you sprinted away from the terrifying sounds of pursuit. The once-bustling metropolis had turned into a ghost town, its inhabitants cowering indoors, unwilling to risk becoming the mafia's next victim. The streets were deserted, the silence broken only by your ragged breathing and the distant echoes of violence.

Each step felt like an eternity as adrenaline surged through your veins. You could almost sense their presence behind you, a shadow of death closing in. It seemed they were tracking you by your scent. The sweet, floral fragrance that emanated from your body had made this escape even more challenging. Your sweet blood flowed through your veins, each drop hitting the ground and leaving a trail. You pressed your hands against your wounds, trying to stop the bleeding and prevent them from following your scent. Your mind raced, replaying the events that led to this desperate escape. It had begun with whispers, rumors of the mafia targeting omegas, and then the brutal reality struck as friends and acquaintances began to disappear, leaving only bloodstains and unanswered questions. Their actions were inexplicable: Why would they target people like you? You had witnessed countless deaths at their hands, many shot, others thrown into pits of fire. They burned all the bodies of their victims.

The neon lights of the city, once symbols of vibrancy and life, now cast eerie, elongated shadows that seemed to grasp at you. You rounded a corner, your feet slipping on the rain-slicked pavement. The distant wail of sirens was a cruel reminder that help would not come in time. You had to rely on your instincts and sheer will to survive.

Suddenly, a narrow alleyway caught your eye. Without thinking, you darted into it, hoping to lose your pursuers in the labyrinth of backstreets. But as you ran deeper, the walls seemed to close in, and the alley twisted into a nightmarish maze. The sound of footsteps grew louder, echoing off the brick walls, a relentless reminder that they were drawing closer.

Your frantic flight led you to a dead end, a towering brick wall blocking your path. Panic surged through you as you desperately tried to find a way over it, your fingers scrabbling at the rough surface. The wall loomed high above you, an insurmountable barrier that seemed to mock your desperation. You could hear their voices now, low and menacing, carried on the wind.

You turned to face them, your breath coming in short, terrified gasps. Shadows danced at the entrance of the alley, and then they emerged, dark silhouettes against the dim light. There was no escape. Your eyes darted around, seeking any possible way out, but there was none. The realization hit you like a tidal wave – you were trapped.

One of the men stepped forward, his face obscured by shadows, but the cold glint in his eyes was unmistakable. He raised his weapon, and in that split second, time seemed to slow. You braced yourself for the impact, expecting the searing pain of a bullet. Instead, there was a sharp sting, more like a needle prick than a gunshot.

Confusion mingled with the adrenaline, and a wave of dizziness washed over you. Your vision blurred, and your legs wobbled beneath you. You staggered, trying to stay upright, but your strength was failing. The world around you began to spin, the alleyway becoming a distorted swirl of colors and shadows.

With a final, desperate effort, you reached out to the wall, hoping to steady yourself, but it was too late. Your fingers brushed against the cold bricks before your legs gave way completely. You collapsed to the ground, the impact jarring but distant, as if it were happening to someone else. The cold, unforgiving pavement pressed against your cheek, and darkness crept in at the edges of your vision.

The last thing you saw before everything went black was the triumphant, merciless faces of your captors as they closed in around you. Their voices were muffled, distorted by the haze of unconsciousness, but the satisfaction in their tones was unmistakable. As the world faded away, one thought lingered in your mind – this was only the beginning of a nightmare that had no end in sight.

As the cold seeped into your bones, memories of happier times flickered in your mind like a fading film reel. You remembered your family's laughter, the warmth of your mother's embrace, and the security you felt in your father's presence. Those moments seemed like a lifetime ago, swallowed by the darkness of the present. The mafia had taken everything from you, and now they were about to take your freedom, perhaps even your life.

The darkness enveloped you completely, a void that swallowed all light and sound. Time lost its meaning as you drifted in and out of consciousness, your mind a whirlpool of fear and despair. When you finally awoke, you found yourself in a dimly lit room, the air thick with the smell of damp and decay. Your hands were bound, the rough ropes cutting into your wrists, and your body ached from the rough handling and the injuries sustained during your escape.

A single, flickering light bulb cast eerie shadows on the walls, and the faint sound of dripping water echoed in the background. The air was thick with the scent of mildew and something metallic—probably blood. You struggled to sit up, wincing at the pain that shot through your limbs with every small movement. Your captors had taken no chances, securing you tightly to a chair with heavy, rusted chains. The room was bare, save for a small table covered in ominous stains and a single door, which you guessed led to more horrors beyond.

The door creaked open, its sound amplified in the silence, and a figure stepped inside. It was the man who had shot you, his cold eyes glinting with cruel amusement. He approached slowly, savoring your fear, and knelt down to meet your gaze. His smile was a twisted parody of kindness, and his voice was soft, almost gentle, as he spoke.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," he said, his tone mocking. "You gave us quite the chase, but it seems the game is over now."

You glared at him, refusing to let him see the terror that gripped your heart. "What do you want from me?" you demanded, your voice hoarse from disuse and dry from lack of water.

The man chuckled, a low, chilling sound that echoed in the small room. "Oh, it's not me who wants something from you," he replied. He turned his head slightly towards the door, and with a simple, "Boss," he summoned another figure into the room.

A tall, hooded figure stepped in front of you. His eyes were as red as fire, and his hair was a lush cascade of pink, shimmering even in the dim light. His eyes furrowed as he looked down upon you, scrutinizing your scarred figure. His face etched into a grin that sent shivers down your spine. This was Sukuna, the infamous leader of the most feared mafia syndicate in the world.

Sukuna bowed down to your height, his intense gaze never leaving yours. He tilted his head slightly, scanning you as if you were a specimen in a lab. "Let me clear things up for you," he chuckled as he stood back up. "It's not about what we want. It's about what we need. You see, you are the last of your kind, and that makes you very valuable to us. And very valuable to me. Your blood, your lineage, your body."

You squinted your eyes, trying to understand what he was saying. It was hard to focus through the haze of pain and fear, but his words were starting to piece together a horrifying picture. They didn't just want to torture you; they wanted to exploit you, to use you for some nefarious purpose. The thought filled you with a renewed sense of defiance, and you vowed to fight them with every ounce of strength you had left.

Sukuna's voice dropped to a soft, almost affectionate tone. "I want you to be my mate," he said, his words causing a cold shiver to run down your spine. "Consider it a sacrifice; you'll be saving your race, your population. You can save them."

The words hit you like a physical blow. You struggled against your restraints, your mind racing. "Then why did you kill all of them?" you spat out, your voice trembling with rage and sorrow. "Why? Why do it if you just wanted someone? You could have just taken one and left the rest of us be."

Sukuna's grin widened, and there was a maddening glint in his eyes. "Why are you doing this?" you demanded, your voice breaking.

He leaned in close, so close you could feel his breath on your skin. "Oh, I only did this so I could finally get you," he said with a chilling calmness. "I wanted you, and you only. You managed to get away when we slaughtered your whole family. I only did this so I could be with you, my prince."

His words were a twisted declaration, and you could feel the bile rising in your throat. He chuckled as he whispered those words close to your ears, his breath hot and foul. He grazed his hand along your chin, lifting it to force you to look into his eyes.

"Clean him up, then bring him to my room," he ordered the man who had shot you. "I want him clean when I see him again." With a final smirk, Sukuna turned away from you and walked out of the room, leaving you with the chilling promise of what was to come.

The man who had shot you moved to obey Sukuna's orders. He released the chains that held you to the chair, though he left your hands bound behind your back. You were too weak to resist, too weak to do anything but stumble as he dragged you out of the room and down a long, dimly lit corridor.

The corridor seemed to stretch on forever, each step echoing off the cold, stone walls. The faint sound of dripping water followed you, a constant reminder of the dank, underground prison you found yourself in. You were led into another room, this one slightly less decrepit than the last. It had a small basin of water, a towel, and a change of clothes laid out on a table.

The man pushed you towards the basin. "Clean yourself up," he said gruffly. You stared at the water, the reflection of your battered face staring back at you. Every movement was painful, but you forced yourself to comply, knowing that any defiance now would only result in more pain.

You washed as best as you could with your hands still bound, the cold water stinging your wounds. When you were done, the man handed you the change of clothes—a simple, clean shirt and pants. He watched you closely as you struggled to dress yourself, his eyes never leaving you.

Once you were dressed, he grabbed your arm and led you out of the room again. You were taken to yet another corridor, this one even darker and more foreboding than the last. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the sound of your footsteps and the occasional distant echo of voices.

Finally, you were brought to a large, imposing door. The man knocked once, then pushed it open, revealing a lavishly decorated room. Rich tapestries adorned the walls, and expensive-looking furniture filled the space. It was a stark contrast to the squalor of the rest of the compound.

Sukuna was waiting for you inside, seated in an ornate chair. He looked up as you entered, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. "Ah, there you are," he said, his voice dripping with mock warmth. "You look much better now."

You stood there, your body tense and your mind racing. What was he planning? What did he want from you? The uncertainty was almost worse than the pain. Sukuna rose from his chair and approached you, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Come, sit with me," he said, gesturing to a chair opposite his. "We have much to discuss."

You hesitated, but the man behind you gave you a sharp shove, forcing you to comply. You sat down, your hands still bound, and glared at Sukuna. "What do you want from me?" you repeated, your voice filled with defiance.

Sukuna's smile widened. "I told you, didn't I? I want you to be my mate. Together, we can rebuild your race, your people. You are the key to everything."

His words were like a knife to your heart. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. "Why would I ever agree to that?" you demanded.

"Because you have no choice," Sukuna said simply. "Either you cooperate, or you watch as I destroy everything you hold dear. The choice is yours."

His words hung in the air, a chilling ultimatum that left you feeling more trapped than ever. You knew you had to find a way out, to escape this nightmare. But for now, all you could do was sit and listen, and wait for the right moment to strike.

"Leave," He ordered, "I want some privacy." The men in front of the door nodded and leaved in order.

Sukuna walked around the table, his eyes never leaving yours. He leaned down, his face inches from yours. "I can see the defiance in your eyes," he murmured. "It's...exciting."

You turned your head away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. But Sukuna grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. His grip was strong, almost painfully so. "Don't look away from me," he said softly.

He pressed his lips to yours, the kiss rough and demanding. You tried to pull away, but his hand on your chin held you in place. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, claiming you in a way that left no room for doubt—he was in control.

When he finally pulled back, you were breathless, a mixture of anger and confusion swirling inside you. Sukuna's eyes glittered with satisfaction. "See? That wasn't so hard," he said, his voice mocking.

He reached down and began to unbutton your shirt, his fingers moving with a practiced ease. You tensed, every muscle in your body screaming at you to fight, to resist. But the man behind you had a firm grip on your shoulders, holding you in place.

Sukuna's hands roamed over your chest, his touch both gentle and possessive. "You're beautiful," he murmured, almost to himself. "So perfect."

You shuddered, a mixture of fear and unwanted arousal coursing through you. Sukuna's hands moved lower, unbuttoning your pants and sliding them down your legs. He knelt in front of you, his eyes dark with desire. "I want to taste you," he said softly, his breath hot against your skin.

A sudden tug was felt on your shirt, Sukuna lifted you up. Everything went by so fast, your were now on his bed. Your shirt and your pants was tossed to the ends of the bed leaving you bare with your underwear wet as your cock begging to spring out. Your face was flushed between your hands as Sukuna chuckled "You're too cute to handle, boy" He soon unbuttoned his polo, leaving his body bare for you to see.

His body was toned, veins aching from every muscle. His jawline defined, his hands were scarred, veins and bones revealing themselves under the skin of his hands. He moved down to you as he whispered to your ears, "You're mine."

Sukuna groaned as he held your hips with harsh and fast thrusts. Every thrust he makes make you squeal and let out moans. Your body now aching with love bites and hickeys as you left scratches on Sukuna's back. His fast thrusts soon slowed as he leaned on you, "Take all of my pups for me, yeah?" He groaned as he came, knotting your insides as you came on his stomach. Your moans shifted into breathless sighs.

One round turned into 20. Its been 1 hour and a half before his dick throbbed your insides. His shape now taking form of your hole, "Ugh...! N-no Ah..., more....." You moaned as you whispered in his ears. "You don't get to order me," He groaned as he whispered back to you, "Just one more darling. Raise all my pups inside you..." He leaned closer to your face as he planted a kiss on your forehead as he thrusts in and out of you. You hugged him tightly as you felt your climax. One final thrust, his cock spurted out his pups in you for the twentieth time.

You breathed heavily, as your rested your head on the mattress. His hands trailed to your neck to your jaw, moving your head to face him. "I'm not done with you," He says as he kissed you on your neck, through your chin and on your lips. He groaned as he laid next to you. Your head facing his chest as his hands covered your waist.

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witchywithwhiskey · 1 year ago

Note

How about Bucky and “what are you going to do? punish me?”

Maybe we want something from our favorite super solider but can’t say the words and try to provoke him instead.

tempting fate in the park

pairing: father's business rival CEO!bucky barnes x female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, fingering (f receiving), handjob, come play, come marking, public play, little bit of exhibitionism, dirty talk, light degradation, praise kink, pet names (darling), unspecified age gap, fluffy ending

word count: 4,000ish

a/n: i realized far too late that i didn't incorporate your premise at all, so sorry about that!!! also for everyone else, this is the fic where i was looking for a trope like 'dad's best friend'. i ended up going with 'dad's business rival' as a trope because it gave me a fun dynamic to play with!! hope y'all enjoy!! ♡♡

tempting fate in the park (part 1)

tempting fate on the terrace (part 2)

tempting fate in the CEO's office (part 3)

It was a beautiful spring afternoon and you were taking a slow, meandering stroll through Central Park, a sly smile on your face as you delighted in the knowledge that you had a secret. Beneath your flirty little sundress—the one you’d worn because the day was bright and warm and gorgeous—you were as bare as the day you were born.

The hem of your dress fluttered around your thighs, the cool breeze wafting through the park teasing you with the prospect of flashing some unsuspecting stranger with a salacious view of your most intimate place. Just the thought of that news getting back to your powerful CEO father had your smirk deepening. After all, it was fun to tempt fate.

But then, your afternoon took a fascinating turn when you spotted a familiar face walking down the same path as you, going in the opposite direction: Mr. James Buchanan Barnes—Bucky to his friends.

But you weren’t his friend, you were the daughter of his business rival. And it was a bitter rivalry.

You’d heard your father rage about Bucky on a number of occasions—cursing out the younger CEO for stealing some business or other from him. You were certain it didn’t help that Bucky was at least 10 years younger than your father, making his slights cut all the more.

Still, that didn’t stop your father from inviting Bucky to all his charity events and galas, always pretending to make nice with the younger CEO before whispering cutting remarks behind his back. It all seemed so ridiculous to you, but you didn’t mind the moments you were able to chat with Bucky.

He was handsome, after all—and single, if the rumors amongst New York City’s elite were to be believed. Plus, Bucky had an impish sort of charm that appealed to you, and you often wondered if perhaps he might be the man of your dreams, if only he wasn’t your father’s business rival.

But your father was nowhere near Central Park on that warm spring afternoon, and as you strolled casually down the path, your eyes watched Bucky closely as he walked in your direction. You didn’t think he’d noticed you yet, so you took the moment to appreciate the older man’s attractiveness.

His brown hair was swept back from his handsome face and styled in such a way that begged to have someone sink their fingers into his soft locks—and you wanted desperately to be that person. Trailing your gaze down his broad and tall body, you couldn’t help but think that Bucky looked distinguished, even with his slightly scruffy beard, and polished in a gray t-shirt, dark jacket and dark slacks.

Your eyes were only just wandering back to Bucky’s face when they snagged on his bright blue gaze. A devilish smirk curled Bucky’s soft lips and you knew you’d been caught gawking at the older man. Heat flamed in your cheeks—and other parts of your body—as Bucky approached you. But you refused to be embarrassed, so you lifted your chin and fixed a playful smile on your face, waiting for Bucky to come to you.

He stopped a polite distance away and greeted you with a nod of his head, his blue eyes sparkling and the edges of his mouth curved in a smirk. You did your best not to appear flustered as you exchanged pleasantries, noting how Bucky kept his eyes fixed respectfully on your face. That is, until he didn’t.

When the conversation lulled, Bucky’s gaze drifted down your body, taking in the way your dress hugged your curves, the neckline dipping low on your chest and the hem riding high on your thigh. The soft cotton fabric was molded to your body in a way that you knew would be obscene if the cut of the dress wasn’t so sweetly innocent. Your body warmed in response to Bucky’s attention and you swayed closer to the older man.

“That’s a pretty dress ya got on, darling,” Bucky rumbled, his voice going deliciously low, luring you in closer so you could hear him.

Your feet shuffled forward of their own accord and you watched intently while he finished his perusal of your body with a lingering look at your plush thighs. When Bucky’s gaze finally lifted back to yours, his blue eyes were sparkling in the bright spring sunshine, and he had a pleased smile on his handsome face.

“Why don’t you give me a twirl,” Bucky suggested, some of that impish charm in his tone. “Let me see how pretty it looks from every angle.”

You were about to do as Bucky said, but then you remembered what was beneath your dress—or, rather, what wasn’t beneath it. Heat rose to your cheeks and your gaze darted around, taking in the sheer amount of people who were in Central Park in the middle of a weekday afternoon. There were a lot of strangers who’d be treated to a view of your pussy if you twirled for Bucky.

It was one thing to go for a walk while not wearing any panties beneath your dress. That was tempting fate and hoping the springtime breeze didn’t make a spectacle of your nakedness. But it was another thing entirely to actually, purposefully, flash the busy city park just to give your father’s business rival what he wanted.

Steeling yourself, you returned your gaze to Bucky. “I don’t think that’s the best idea, Mr. Barnes,” you murmured in what you hoped was a playful conspiratorial voice. You lifted the corners of your mouth in a smirk that hopefully looked more mysterious than nervous, and hid how much your heart was racing.

Bucky seemed intrigued by your refusal and he shifted forward, his eyes dragging slowly down your body as if he was looking for the reason you’d said no. When he couldn’t find anything amiss, he lifted his gaze back to yours.

“What’s the matter, darling,” he asked in a warmly teasing voice. “You worried it might get back to your father that you flashed a peek of your panties in the park?” There was a challenge in his gaze, one you were all too happy to meet, even as your body heated with desire.

“Why, of course not, Mr. Barnes,” you murmured breathily, playing up the innocence in your voice, trying to make yourself sound more sultry. Leaning in, you pressed a hand to his broad chest and pretended you were confiding in him, your head tilting back to hold his gaze. “I’m worried I’d flash much more than my panties if I twirled around in my dress.”

You felt Bucky’s stiffen beneath your fingertips and delighted in the way you felt him suck in a sharp breath, sizzles of desire zinging through your body and making you feel like you’d swallowed a whole bottle of champagne. Bucky’s eyes darkened as they roved over your face, like he was trying to discern whether you were telling the truth.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying, darling?” he rumbled, his voice low, sending a deliciously dangerous shiver down your spine.

It was difficult to keep the innocent look on your face, but you managed, even if the corners of your mouth fluttered with the smirk you wanted to set loose. Instead of answering Bucky’s question, you cocked your head to the side, pretending you didn’t understand what he was asking.

“Are you telling me you’re not wearing panties?” he asked, barely leashed emotion in his voice. It was deep and dark and you thought it might be anger, especially when he continued on in a voice that was as rough as gravel. “In the middle of a busy park, where anyone could look up your skirt—or touch you?”

A snort left you before you could hold it back. You couldn’t help it, Bucky’s words sounded like a chastisement, which was silly because you were a grown woman and you knew the risks of going out without panties on. So you gave him the bratty response you felt his words deserved.

“What are you going to do? Punish me?” you snarked, giving him a sweetly patronizing smile.

But it seemed you judged Bucky wrong because he only pressed closer to you, looming above you, a wicked smirk spreading across his face.

“Darling, I’m not your daddy, I’m not gonna punish you,” he rumbled, holding your gaze captive while his fingers brushed against your though, trailing up under your skirt ever so slightly. He watched your chest heave as your breath hitched in your throat and slipped his hand between your legs, teasing the inside of your thighs beneath your skirt. “But you might have to worry about a public indecency charge given what I’m gonna do with you.”

“What’re you gonna do with me, Mr. Barnes?” you asked, unable to catch your breath for all the warmth and riotous sensation flooding your body.

Bucky gripped your chin with his other hand, holding you still so all you could do was stare into his sparkling blue eyes. “I’m gonna do whatever I damn well please, darling,” he said in a low, firm voice. Then he ducked down and pressed a hot kiss to your lips that felt like you were sealing a deal with the devil.

Before you could even hope to catch your breath, Bucky had wrapped one arm around your waist and the other around your upper arm, walking you further into the park, keeping his pace quick. Your feet stumbled along with him, and you wondered dazedly what exactly he was going to do with you.

It wasn’t long before Bucky had led you into one of the more wooded areas of the park, finding a path that was deserted before he looked both ways and tugged you into the trees. He pulled you deep enough into the foliage that you were obscured from view of anyone on the path, then turned to you with a look of greedy hunger on his handsome face.

Pressing you up against a tree, Bucky’s mouth descended on yours and he set about devouring you.

His lips were soft, but unyielding, and possessive in the way they plundered your mouth, his hands just as demanding, tugging down the front of your dress beneath your tits so they were pushed up in an offering to your father’s business rival. Bucky accepted them eagerly, groping your soft flesh and plucking at your nipples until you gasped loudly into his mouth.

“Shh, darling,” Bucky muttered with a teasing smirk, “you’re gonna have to be quieter than that.” His free hand wrapped around your throat and pinned you to the tree, a wordless threat in the loose way he held you, but didn’t choke you. Yet.

It made a delicious heat flare through your body, and again, you rose to the challenge in his words. Lifting your chin, you looked Bucky dead in the eye and murmured, “Make me, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky’s eyes darkened and his fingers squeezed a little tighter around your throat, digging into the sides and making your heart race as you hiccuped a gasp of desire.

“You’re such a filthy girl, darling,” Bucky rumbled, pressing a kiss to the apple of your cheek before dragging his mouth to your ear. “Makes me so fucking hard.” His hips bucked against yours and you felt the truth of his words.

Trailing your fingers down Bucky’s chest, you teased along the hem of his pants, wanting desperately to take him into your hand, but you paused. Catching Bucky’s eye, you let him see the wordless question in your eyes. It was only when he nodded that you eagerly unbuttoned and unzipped his fly, reaching inside and wrapping your hand around Bucky’s cock.

“So big,” you whispered wondrously, stroking his thick cock in your hand. You flicked your wrist, squeezing the tip and watched as Bucky’s eyes fluttered shut, the older man letting out a restrained groan at the feeling of you jerking him off. “Now who needs to be quiet, Mr. Barnes,” you teased, smirking up at him.

That had Bucky’s eyes snapping open and in the next breath his hand slipped between your legs, trailing up your thighs until his fingers brushed against your bare pussy. You were practically dripping for him, and you were certain he could feel it from the way his blue eyes darkened, pupils blowing wide with desire as he cursed.

“Fuck, you really aren’t wearing panties,” he bit out on a low groan, a little bit of surprise in his tone. Still, he seemed pleased by the revelation. His fingers dipped into your slit, his eyes watching your lips part in a soft moan while he teased your hole until your knees trembled beneath you. His expression shifted to one of affection, even as he rumbled, “You’re trouble, darling, d’you know that?”

Heat and pleasure swirled through your body so furiously, you were afraid you might collapse to your knees, even with Bucky’s hand wrapped around your throat and his other teasing your soaking wet folds, but you managed to shrug nonchalantly. “I’m only trouble if I get caught,” you replied blithely, giving Bucky a mischievous smile.

He chuckled, the sound low and raspy and devolving into a groan when you stroked his cock harder, your fist gripping him firmly. He gave you a heated look, then pushed two fingers into your tight hole and choked you at the same moment. It was a good thing he did, because his hand cut off the loud moan that would’ve spilled from your lips at the delicious intrusion of his fingers.

“Let’s make sure we don’t get caught then, darling,” he rumbled, fucking you with his fingers, his palm slapping quietly against your clit as he set a fast, hard rhythm. Pleasure spun through your mind, so sharp and delicious it made you struggle to keep up with the older man, your fist working his cock at the same furious pace he set.

All the while, Bucky held your gaze captive with his own, his eyes every so often drifting down to watch the way your chest heaved with panting breaths, your tits bouncing out of the confines of your dress, or the way your lips were parted as you tried to get enough oxygen to your lungs through his squeezing hand.

You, too, watched your father’s business rival come undone right before your eyes. His handsome face was flushed, his cheeks pink above his beard, his blue eyes darkening even further, and his soft mouth twisting in a snarl of pleasure. When his hips began thrusting into your hand, you suspected he was close, which he confirmed with his heated question.

“Where d’you want me to come?�� Bucky ground out through clenched teeth, his hand loosening around your neck to let you speak. But he didn’t stop pounding into your cunt with his fingers and it was difficult to think. You were halfway lost to pleasure, which was your only excuse for the answer that slipped from your mouth.

“Come on my pussy, sir—please,” you begged, your voice husky and as quiet as you could manage with the way a pleasured cry was building in your chest. Rucking up your dress with your free hand, you stared into Bucky’s eyes as you murmured, “Mark me with your come.”

Bucky choked off the moan that threatened to fall from his lips, shoving his fingers deep in your cunt and pressing against a spot that had you seeing stars. Pleasure coiled tight in your core, but when he ground his palm against your clit, you were lost to him.

Your entire being shattered apart as you came on his hand, your mouth dropping open and your body shaking from overwhelming sensation. Thankfully, Bucky choked you hard enough to silence the scream of pleasure that wanted to break free, the restriction of air making you feel the pleasure of your release more acutely.

It was only when darkness began to creep into the edges of your vision and the waves of your orgasm began to abate, that Bucky loosened his hold on you. His hand fell away from your throat entirely and he kissed you fiercely, his lips praising you wordlessly.

You were so distracted by his mouth that it took you a moment to realize his hand had dropped from your throat to wrap around yours. He was guided your fingers up and down his cock, helping you stroke him fast and firm.

Ending the kiss with a low gasp, Bucky pressed his forehead to yours and looked down between your bodies to where he was using your hand to jerk his cock, like your fist was his own personal fleshlight. The sight was so erotic, your pussy fluttered around Bucky’s fingers, which were still inside you.

“Ya want me to come on your pussy, darling?” Bucky huffed, his chest heaving with heavy breaths even as he managed a teasing tone. “Want your daddy’s biggest business rival to mark your cunt with my seed, huh?”

“Yes, sir, please,” you begged in a breathy voice, wanting nothing more in that moment. You didn’t know where the desire came from, but you didn’t question it—only gave into it.

“Gonna make a mess of you, darling,” Bucky rumbled in warning, though his words only succeeded in turning you on again. Your pussy clenched around him again, making him huff a laugh even as he went on. “You’re gonna be dripping with my come for the rest of the afternoon.”

God help you, but you wanted it. You wanted to feel his come splash against your soft skin, you wanted the dirty, delicious knowledge that you were covered in his come beneath your dress while no one was the wiser. You wanted it so badly that you begged again, “Please, Mr. Barnes, please come on my pussy—I want it.”

Bucky closed his eyes like he was in pain, like your words were his undoing, and then he captured your lips, using your mouth to muffle his sounds of pleasure as he came. You felt the warm ropes of Bucky’s come spray against your mound and lower belly, rolling down your body. You kissed Bucky back fiercely, swallowing down every grunt and groan he uttered while he unleashed himself.

When he finally finished, he pulled away and you both looked down your body, watching where Bucky’s come caught in his hand cupping your pussy. He used his palm to rub his seed into your skin, making your cunt even messier than before. Both of you moaned at the sight, your body clenching tight a the debauchery of the moment.

“Fuck, darling, I can feel the way your pussy’s squeezing me,” Bucky muttered, looking up and catching your eye, giving you a charmingly devilish grin. “Makes me think you want me to dump my next load deep in your cunt.”

Your head fell back against the tree behind you and you let out a low, filthy moan of delight, making Bucky’s eyes darken again. But before either of you could say anything more—before you could beg your father’s business rival to come deep in your pussy—the sounds of people walking by on the park trail not too far from where you stood broke through your private moment.

Realizing the precariousness of your situation, Bucky quickly, but gently, eased his hand from your pussy and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his fingers clean. You were too dazed from pleasure to move yet, but when he swiped it against your belly, cleaning his seed off your skin, you whimpered in disappointment.

“Shh, darling, I just wanna get us out of the park without getting that public indecency charge,” Bucky murmured comfortingly, pressing a kiss to your temple that made you smile and stop your protests.

He pocketed the dirtied handkerchief and tucked his cock back into his pants, then helped you fix your dress. Easing you away from the tree, Bucky shed his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders to hide the scratches and indents from the bark.

You leaned heavily into Bucky’s side as he walked you back through the park toward the entrance near which you’d first spotted him. It was only when Bucky guided you to the passenger door of a nice looking car that you found your voice again.

“Where are we going, Mr. Barnes?” you asked, a little teasing tone in your voice. When you looked up into Bucky’s handsome face, you wore an impish smirk, hoping he wasn’t done with you yet.

Bucky pushed you gently back against the side of his car, his hands on your hips beneath his jacket and his body looming over yours. A shiver of delight raced down your spine and you reached up, carding your fingers through his soft brown hair like you’d wanted to when you first saw him. Bucky turned his head and kissed the inside of your wrist before pinning you with his intense gaze.

“I’m taking you back to my place, darling,” Bucky murmured softly, a smile on his lips that turned amused. “Did you think a little fooling around in the park was all I wanted?”

You squirmed in his arms, feeling young and insecure all of a sudden under the weight of the older man’s fierce stare. Dropping your gaze to his beard, you avoided his eye as you spoke.

“I don’t know what you want, Mr. Barnes,” you confessed, realizing only after the words fell from your lips that you meant more than just what Bucky planned to do with you that day. Feelings rushed through your body, your heart pounding in your chest and you felt shy in front of Bucky for the first time.

But he seemed to know exactly how to handle your sudden change of mood. Curling a finger under your chin, he tilted your face up to look at him. His blue eyes were sparkling with a warm affection that made you settle a little.

“I want everything you’re willing to give me,” he rumbled in a gentle voice before ducking down and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. When he broke the kiss, he didn’t pull back far, keeping his face close to yours. “And please, call me Jamie,” he murmured, a tenor of vulnerability in his tone that surprised you.

You smiled against his mouth, finding it easier to tease him again. “I thought all your friends called you Bucky,” you whispered, your body lighting up at his continued closeness. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pressed your chest to his, enjoying the way your nipples dragged against his t-shirt.

Bucky chuckled and you could feel the sound reverberate in your chest, sending heat curling through your body. “Darling,” he said, his tone affectionately teasing. “You’re much more than a friend, wouldn’t you say?”

At that, you managed a cheeky smile, leaning back to let him see your happy expression. “Yeah, I would,” you said, leaning in to kiss him again. That time, it was your turn to devour his mouth, enjoying the taste and feel of him as you made out against his car.

When you finally pulled away, it was with a sigh of, “Jamie.”

With a pleased smile on his face, Bucky helped you into his car, his hand immediately settling possessively on your thigh once he’d sat in the driver’s seat. You relaxed into the soft leather seat, unable to think of anything else except how content you were with the turn your spring afternoon had taken.

Perhaps you’d been tempting fate by walking around the park without anything on under your dress. But it seemed fate had led you straight into the arms of Bucky, so you couldn’t feel even a little bit remorseful for your reckless behavior.

Especially not when Bucky squeezed your thigh and flashed you a charming smile that had you thinking your father’s business rival might just turn out to be the man of your dreams after all.

tempting fate in the park (part 1)

tempting fate on the terrace (part 2)

tempting fate in the CEO's office (part 3)

#witchywithwhiskey's springtime fun #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan characters #witchywithwhiskeywork #sgtnightwolfinthetardis

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lucienweekofficial · 3 months ago

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Lucien Week 2025: Announcing the Prompts!

🌲 It's time to put your Lucien Simp hats on, everyone: the official Lucien Week 2025 prompts are here! We're working diligently on delivering a fun-packed event for you, returning this November 2 — 8!

🌲 The full prompt guide is included under the cut! For more information about this year's prompts, make sure to check it out!

🌲 Remember, these prompts serve only as a guide and are purely optional: you can let your imagination run as wild and free as Lucien in the Prythian forests.

Art Credit: @laxibbeb

🌲🌲🌲

Lucien Week 2025: Prompt Guide

DAY 1 || Fireling

"Mind your own business, fireling."

There's no denying Lucien's got fire in his blood. With his blazing eyes and hair like molten metal, he is the very epitome of a flame come alive. Day 1 is all about exploring the depth of his raw power, whether it be in his appearance, combat, or... other activities 👀

DAY 2 || Scars

"Ignoring this"—he waved a hand at the metal eye and brutal scar on his face—"surely we're not so miserable to look at."

Lucien has suffered a lot throughout his long life, earning him scars both visible and hidden from the naked eye. On Day 2, bring out all the angst as we manifest a journey of healing and happiness for Lucien down the road.

DAY 3 || Brotherhood

"No," Lucien said, and Cassian marked the tightness of his shoulders beneath the dark grey jacket he wore, the taut silence emanating from every stone of the house." [...]

Without turning, Lucien said, "Eris is here."

Exiled from his home all those years ago, Lucien had been forced to forge bonds beyond his familial ties. But has he truly been forgotten by everyone in his family? Or perhaps, he has found new people to call a family of his own? We hope Day 3 will be full of found family theories, childhood memories, and Autumn Court headcanons as we take a look at Lucien as a brother and friend over the years.

DAY 4 | Warrior

"Did you think it was mere hatred that prompted my brothers to do their best to break and kill me?"

There's no denying Lucien Vanserra is a silver-tongued diplomat, with centuries as a courtier and emissary to prove it. But what about his other side? Throughout the books, Lucien has been described as a highly skilled warrior and hunter, and though he often opts for the diplomatic route, he's been forced into more and more battles as his story progresses. Day 4 is the perfect opportunity to see a not-yet-explored side of the cunning Fox-Lord, and we cannot wait to see your interpretations of him.

DAY 5 || Glamours

"This eye..." Lucien gestured to the metal contraption. "It can see things that others... can't. Spells, glamours..."

Day 5 truly contains multitudes. With an ability to see through potent magic, are there any secrets Lucien does not yet wish to reveal? Or perhaps, as a wanderer across Prythian's Courts, you'd like to explore him as a male of many faces? Finally, maybe you'd like to take the word ✨ glamours ✨ literally — and dedicate Day 5 to Lucien being the fashion icon that he is. We can't wait to see what you come up with!

DAY 6 || Destiny

"Helion is Lucien's father."

"Holy burning hell."

Day 6 is the time to theorize about where Lucien's story will take him. Is his destiny a place? With an undiscovered heritage in the Day Court, and homes scattered around Prythian and Human Lands alike, the possibilities are endless. Or... perhaps the place doesn't truly matter, and Lucien's destiny is a person he will find his true home with?

DAY 7 || NSFW

"He nodded, retreating into the room to let me inside. Bare from the waist up, he'd managed to haul on a pair of pants before opening the door, and hastily buttoned them as I strode past."

Alright, alright, you caught us. We are a little feral for Lucien Titserra, uh, we mean, Lucien Thighserra, or um— OH WHATEVER. We want to see that man nakey. You agree. With the above prompts being optional, any day can be a Free Day. But a dedicated [Redacted] Lucien Day... yeah, that deserves a spotlight of its own.

—

Lucien Week 2025 is returning November 2 — 8, but don't worry, you'll be seeing a lot more of us in the months leading up to the event! Thank you for being here with us!

#lucienweek2025 #lucienweek2025 prompts #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #lucien acotar #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

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bakerstreethound · 7 months ago

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Ad Astra (To the Stars)

Relationship: Jayce Talis x Viktor

Warnings: 18+ Smut. Minors DNI! (dom) Viktor, (sub)Jayce, implied lab smut, marking, biting, teasing, claiming, possessiveness, soft confessions, soft domestic bliss, and the hexstrap gets a notable mention

Summary: Jayce always knew he was a goner. Correction, Jayce always knew he was a goner when it came to Viktor, his partner of many years. Of all the fantasies, all the doubts, he finally finds himself confronting his feelings when they come to the surface one fateful night when they rise uncontained. It is a night Viktor will not, and does not let him forget, especially when they wake up in each other's embrace. It's all too real and not imagined, yet Viktor has more plans.

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound (Do NOT claim, copy, repost, or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03 under the same username)

Word Count: 2.3k+

A/N: Hello lovelies. Well after the craziness that was season 2 of Arcane, I decided to give Jayce and Viktor a reprieve and have them kiss amongst other things. I have held on to this story for a few weeks because I treasure it and I hope you all enjoy. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

To the stars we go, there I may find you

Beyond the catalyst of a dream forged

Forged between two twin flames

Open their arms, a dying star

Bursting into the eternal sky forevermore

******

Jayce, Jayce, Jayce. A soft voice mutters in his ear, stirring him from a dark void of sleep. Blinking in confusion, Jayce shifts, the sheets clinging, falling lower on his chest. He rubs his eyes, attempting to clear the blurriness from them. His eyes open, greeted by the sight of his familiar dark room.

On second glance, he sees the rise and fall of a bundled figure next to him, and last night's events play out for him. Him and Viktor in the lab, Him and Vicktor sneaking out of the lab, stumbling silly into one of their bedrooms. Viktor lifting Jayce carefully on the bed, despite the protest of both his leg and Jayce.

“Viktor, careful please, it’s not safe-”

Viktor arched his brow and in that instant, Jayce knew he was a goner. He always knew in a way but refused to acknowledge it. Until, apparently, he found himself pinned to his bed by Viktor. Being buried under his lab partner was not on Jayce’s list, but he had to admit the thought occurred only during the few couple of times Victor’s hand brushed his reaching for a pencil, bumping into his shoulders, handing over a gadget, fingertips gently brushing his a second too long in hopes of making the moment last. Yeah, Jayce had to admit he definitely did not and could not take the hint.

How stupid he was, he thought, when Viktor’s finger brushed along his lower lip, eyes darkening in desire, warmth, affection and a touch of something else. It couldn’t be. But Jayce was tired of dancing around it and fell to infinity the moment Viktor’s lips collided with his.

Jayce groaned as Viktor became more insistent, tangling a hand into Jayce’s hair, tugging hard as his lips persisted in their conquest. Jacye was in no way shape or form in a position to complain, mind, body and soul lost to the kiss. A kiss he never in a million years thought would have occurred. Apparently Viktor did. Jayce broke from the kiss, gulping in air, Viktor smirking above him in amusement and admiration.

He stroked Jayce’s jawline with his index finger, his thumb brushing gently, oh so gently along Jayce’s lips admiring their warmth, slightly puffy from Viktor’s ministrations. Viktor’s heart swelled in pride at the sight that he did this to Jayce, making him a panting, gasping, then whimpering mess.

“Viktor…I ... what?” Jayce stumbled, too stunned to speak, reaching his hands out to Viktor, pulling him down, their bodies colliding. Jayce stroked Viktor’s back, until Viktor decided to latch on to his neck, making him squirm against him, the air suddenly became harder to breathe, and all Jayce wanted was to savor the moment, as does Viktor, who was incessant in his conquest, taking advantage of Jayce’s squirming to straddle him, teasingly grinding himself against his hips.

“V-Viktor…I…”Jayce swore softly, biting back another noise rising in the back of his throat as Viktor did it again, a soft gasp resounding from his lips all the while Jayce watched in awe, desperation, and desire. His heart swelled as Viktor reached down to press another kiss to his lips. Viktor did not hesitate, nibbling Jayce’s lip, latching onto his neck once more relishing in the feel of his partner squirming beneath him, a complete mess.

Oh, Viktor would show Jayce so much he desired to do to him for months, but for now he would lavish him with kisses, before getting the man on his knees and putting that smart eloquent mouth of his to work.

******

“Jayce,” Viktor's voice comes into focus as the remaining sleep falls from Jayce’s mind. Well, that and the hours before Viktor claimed him over and over again. Jayce groans as he touches his neck, sore, definitely sore.

“Viktor,” Jayce mutters, reaching for him still bundled on the side of the bed. He gently nudges him, grasping him on the shoulder.

“Oh, good you’re awake after all. Thought I lost you there,” Viktor, pulls off the sheet from his head and it drags down revealing his bare shoulders and chest. Jayce doesn’t look away, enraptured once more with his partner, what they did last night.

He has no regrets, except that he wishes they had longer nights to kiss and do, well, whatever the heck Viktor had done to him and taught him last night. What he demanded Jayce to do and that Jayce had done so with eagerness and desperation.

Jayce can’t help but smile, scooting closer to Viktor, to gently run his hands along Viktor’s body, beautiful in the soft light beginning to filter in through the windows. Viktor continues in his own perusal of Jayce’s body, delighting in the marks he left on Jayce.

His hands reach out to trace patterns on Jayce’s chest, coming up to cup his face, murmuring to himself before kissing him to ensure that it is real. Every bit of it was real and Viktor has irrevocably fallen further into the wonder that is his partner Jayce.

Jayce returns the kiss in kind, taking his time, letting Viktor have the control, muffling a groan when Viktor’s tongue parts his lips, exploring, taking it slow, savoring them together in the early morning, exposed, not lost to the night shadows. Jayce lets himself fall, to the thrill of it all, the intimacy, so different from what he has experienced before.

He wants nothing more than this, than Viktor. A future with him. Together.

When they part a fraction of a moment, eyes meeting, searching for answers already spoken in their depths, Viktor doesn’t hesitate to push Jayce further, the space warming between their tangled bodies. Jayce whimpers a plea, his hips trying to desperately search for relief only Viktor could provide.

“We could go to the lab later, and continue our work, Jayce. It does not mean I am finished with you, yet. I need your help perfecting a new idea I have been tinkering with.”

“Viktor?” Jayce says more of a question than anything, swallowing another pathetic whimper, still riled with the nerves of the night and now. Such a pull Viktor has on him he cannot resist. He nods, curiosity getting the better of him. “Can I at least put a shirt on before we go?”

“Take this.” Viktor rolls his eyes, grabbing his cane leaning on the nightstand before absently tossing over a vest and shirt. Or rather one of his shirts and vests he had stolen from Jayce years ago as a joke.

Jayce laughs, taking the offering, inspecting it before unbuttoning the shirt and carefully putting it on. “How long have you had this and why did you not tell me?”

“What’s there for you to know? You clearly haven’t missed it all these years.”

“Fair point,�� Jayce mumbles, adding on the vest. Viktor’s eyes remained transfixed on the man in his bed, half dressed, hair a mess and he smiles softly. If this is what home felt like, then he knew he could be happy like this here with the man he had slowly, irrevocably fell for. In this lifetime and every one that follows.

He smiles to himself as he wraps the blanket around his shoulders, sauntering over to the dresser to fiddle through some clothes, choosing a shirt and vest as well.

He feels Jayce’s gaze fixed upon him, and he lets the blanket slide a fraction from his shoulder, and then the other until he lets it fall completely to the floor, giving Jayce a full view of his back. He smirks to himself, making a show of picking out his own set of button up shirt and vest, jacket, and slacks before walking back to the bed, resting his cane down before sitting down and getting himself dressed.

Jayce’s gaze is still fixed upon him, the shifting of blankets doing nothing to hide the advances of the man Viktor has quite literally made to see stars many hours prior.

There is a pure primal satisfaction in knowing. Knowing that he will remember for the rest of his days. Jayce’s lips on his, how willing he is to let Viktor do what he so desires to him, commands.

Viktor allows a small sigh of satisfaction to pass his lips as he carefully puts on his pants, wincing as he twists to grab his shirt, until Jayce’s hand reaches out to stop him.

“May I?” He asks, and it’s nothing but sincere, making warmth spread to Viktor’s cheeks. Viktor nods in confirmation while Jayce holds out the shirt behind him while he slips his arms in the sleeves, tugging it down like so to smooth out the wrinkles. Viktor stands so Jayce can fully face him, taking in his bare chest pale against the dark striped shirt Jayce slowly begins to button for him.

Jayce's gaze does not falter from the task, and he continues his task, helping with Viktor’s vest, buttoning it all snug and secure. When he is complete, Jayce hesitates a moment, locking his gaze almost shyly with Viktor’s who smirks, grasping Jayce by the chin to guide him to his lips, where they fall impossibly further again.

Warmth, so much warmth floods the spaces between them and Viktor swears there is nowhere else he would rather be in the entire universe than here. When they break away once more, Viktor allows himself a small smile, amused by Jayce’s bright eyes and iridescent smile, which falters a bit when he reaches up to caress Viktor’s face with a hand.

“Jayce. Is something wrong?”

He huffs in reply shaking his head in disbelief. “Not at all. It is so far from wrong. Last night. This. Us…it’s been…fantastic. More than I could have dreamed.”

“So…”

“It’s only,” Jayce pauses tracing a finger along Viktor’s lower lip. “You were never broken. Never to me. I only wish you felt you could trust me enough with everything you and I expressed last night.” Jayce sighs, pulling his hand away, which Viktor grasps firmly in his, his other hand reaching for Jayce’s neck, bringing his forehead down to rest against his partners. Try as he might, Viktor cannot hide the half smile that emerges on his lips, causing Jayce to beam in utter adoration.

“In fairness, we both made things complicated, Jayce. And we were busy with Hextech, changing the world and everything. If you do recall.”

“I only recall kissing you last night.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me.”

“I focus on the moments we are given, all while considering the future.”

Viktor rolls his eyes in amusement, his voice growing solemn as he ponders Jayce’s words. “Did you mean it? My whole life I have been broken.”

“Of course I mean it, I meant every word. You were never broken. Your imperfections are what make you you . My imperfectly perfect partner. There is nothing more I could ask for.”

“But you couldn’t accept-”

“Viktor, I choose you. This day and the next. I cannot see so far into the future, but I know that there we exist together. I want to be with you, if you will have me and all I am. Accept me for who I am and all my flaws, everything in between. I feel this for you.” Jayce holds out his hands to Viktor who takes them, squeezing gently, for once this morning at a loss for words. Until, he snickers in realization.

“What’s so funny? Oh no I messed up the speech, didn’t I? I am an idiot,” Jayce groans.

“Not at all, Jayce. We have carried this conversation half dressed. We have not been wearing pants and we will be late to the lab if we wait much longer.”

“You’re right, that is important. Can I…may I kiss you again?”

Viktor smiles, pecking Jayce’s cheek. “Well, at least let me get my pants on. You as well. That is, if we can find any around here,” a raised brow follows the statement with a wry knowing smile.

Jayce laughs. “Yes, that is a wonderful idea. Heimerdinger would be tremendously confused about the situation.”

“That or he would lock us in the lab for an entire night claiming it was an accident.”

“Mel would be more likely to do that.”

“Mel? Wait, was that why she was there last night ....”

“Perhaps…perhaps not.”

“Viktor, did you enlist Mel’s help to get the lab for the night?” Jayce inquires while finding and putting on his pants. Viktor did likewise as he formulates a reply.

“A great scientist doesn't have to reveal all their unique methods, Jayce. You should know this by now. However, I am not done with you today.” Viktor’s eyes narrow as he contemplates all the things he wants to do with his partner, but quickly shoves it away.

“By all means, Viktor,” Jayce whispers in his ear, coming behind him to take him in his arms, whispering more sweet nothings, “I am looking forward to it.”

“Good good. It is nice to know I have a willing participant to test a new device I have tinkered with. You would be the perfect candidate.”

Jayce stumbles, mumbling a few words, not knowing what to say. Instead, he pressed his lips to Viktor’s neck, kissing behind his ear, nibbling the earlobe, making Viktor groan low.

Viktor silently swears to himself for what feels to be the hundredth time in the span of twenty four hours. He can’t wait to hear all the pretty sounds Jayce will make for him. How lovely it will be to break him, bring him to the precipice of pleasure again. All because of him.

******

#jayvik #jayce x viktor #viktor x jayce #jayvik fanfiction #jayvik smut #jayvik fanfic #jayvik fanart #jayce talis #viktor arcane #arcane season 2 #arcane league of legends #jayce league of legends #viktor league of legends #it was affection that held us together #my writing #my alleyway

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vhaenaera · 5 months ago

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A wedding of Fire & Blood

The Great Hall of Dragonstone was draped in crimson and black, its high walls shimmering with the light of braziers and candelabras. The rich scent of incense mingled with the salt of the sea, battering the ancient stone, setting the stage for a ceremony steeped in tradition and foreboding destiny.

In keeping with ancient Valyrian custom, Queen Visenya had united her children in wedlock to secure the legacy of Maegor even without the acknowledgment of the King who remained in Kings Landing, unknowing to this event. The union was sealed when the first drop of the princess’s blood was shed beneath a rising blood moon—a fateful night when destiny was writ in scarlet and gold. Without heed for her own will, Vhaena was arrayed in the regal finery of her forebears: ceremonial robes of deep scarlets and rich creams trimmed with gold thread, her silver hair intricately braided and interwoven with pearls and gold ringlets, her neck heavy from both duty and the gold around it. Though her violet eyes were cast downward in reluctant deference, her presence at the altar marked the beginning of an unyielding bond. Her brother-groom, the young Prince Maegor—ten years of age and two years her junior—stood with a resolve far beyond his tender years, his posture proud and his spirit unbending, for he knew his duty.

At the centre of the hall, Vhaena’s delicate form shone against the deep hues of the chamber, every detail of her appearance echoing the weight of expectation. Nearby, Visenya Targaryen, tall and commanding in a gown as dark as midnight and an armour-like bodice that spoke of her unyielding authority, watched over the proceedings. In one hand she held the ancestral Valyrian steel sword, Dark Sister, keeping it standing beneath her hand as if it were an extension of her will. Her chin held high as she watched the event, her eyes stern and assuring no objection nor mishaps to disturb the wedding.

The ceremony began in earnest as Visenya took role of priest, intoning ancient words. The incantation—“Father flame, mother mountain. We are the blood of the dragon”—resounded through the hall in High Valyrian, binding the fates of those gathered.

Vhaena’s fingers trembled as she accepted the ceremonial blade from Visenya. With a hesitant glance toward her mother’s stern nod, she stepped toward her brother at the altar. There, the ritual demanded a sacrifice of blood—a slit across the palm. As the blade’s tip met Maegor’s skin, his slight wince was swallowed by the unyielding determination in his violet eyes. In a mirrored act, he extended the blade towards her, and with a quiet resolve, Vhaena pressed forward with both blood and tears pricking from her, allowing the crimson droplets to mingle, sealing their bond.

Queen Visenya stepped between them, raising their joined, bloodstained hands high. “Jorrāelagon ēzi ossēnagon,” she proclaimed—“Let their blood be bound as one.” With that, a strand of obsidian ribbon—threaded with hues of gold and red—was wrapped tightly around their clasped hands, a knot of fate that would never be undone and soaked with their blood.

As the final vows were whispered in soft High Valyrian, the hall erupted with chants of “Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor”—a declaration that a dragon was not a slave. Vhaena lowered her head, her cheeks burning with the weight of both duty and reluctant submission, while Maegor’s gaze, assessing yet unyielding, bore into hers.

Visenya nodded, her expression severe yet satisfied. Placing a commanding hand on each of her children’s shoulders, she intoned, “The blood of the dragon is pure. And so it shall remain.” In that solemn moment, amidst the flickering light and the echo of ancient words, the bond forged by custom and sealed in blood affirmed a legacy as enduring and fierce as the dragon’s flame.

Vhaena’s thoughts roiled like the waves battering the cliffs beyond, a tempest of dread and guilt consuming her. She could not help but wonder how her father and Aenys would receive the news of her wedding—nor could she quell the fear of the looks that would cross their faces when they did.

—

P.S. if my high Valyrian is wrong, please lmk!

#fire and blood #a song of ice and fire #house of the dragon #house targaryen #game of thrones #digital art #team black #maegor targaryen #oc #visenya targaryen #visenya the conqueror #aegon the conqueror #aegon i #the conquerors #maegor the cruel #maegor #fanfic

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mrscarpenter · 5 months ago

Text

“We were always meant to burn together.” 2

Summary: cant think of one without spoiling everything 🥲

Includes/warnings: hightower!reader, aegons twin. Y/N has been used on multiple occasions. There is an age gap in this (whatever daemons canon age is). Some high valyrian with translations, i am not fluent so ignore if it sucks.

🪐notes: its been a while since i’ve seen season 1 so please ignore any timeline mistakes. Daemyra does not exist in this. :)

Biggest thank you to my lovely hannah ( @just-some-random-blogger ) for beta-reading this <33

« “I am not going back to Oldtown with you, uncle.” »

« “Then where will you go?” »

« “i’ll be with rhaenyra.” »

Dragonstone ― Near the beaches...

Less than six months later, after the incident at Driftmark, a new act would rattle the court.

As per the ancient customs of House Targaryen, Daemon and his niece, you, had arranged a ceremony on the beaches of Dragonstone to perform a Valyrian rite, which was attended by Rhaenyra, her children, Jace, Luke, Joffrey, and Daemon’s children, Baela, and Rhaena, along with Rhaenyra's maester, Gerardys.

The wedding ceremony was to be solemnized by a High Priest, who worshipped the Old Gods of Valyria, and was brought in by both Targaryen royals. However, due to the tragic event of the Doom that destroyed the Valyrian Freehold and their civilization, very little information or records remained about the long-forgotten religion, except that the Targaryen dragons were named after gods from the ancient pantheon worshipped throughout Old Valyria's vast empire.

Their faith was practiced for thousands of years before being greatly diminished. It was a momentous occasion for the family, steeped in tradition and history, as they honored their heritage and celebrated the union of two of its members.

You, dressed in the traditional garments, looked back at everyone. This marriage was performed suddenly without the knowledge of your father, mother or siblings. They were not in attendance— a deep shame. You had hoped that they would be there to support you.

You never wanted to be wed, you linked it with childbirth and after the late queen Aemma, and Daemon’s late wife, Laena; it scared you to no end. Your thoughts drift back to the day you and Daemon arrived at Dragonstone, and he had made the proposal.

« “If you don't want Alicent to have any control over you anymore, you must wed me. A woman’s place is beside her husband. She couldn’t deny that.” »

« “I do not wish to be wed, Daemon— to sit around as a broodmare, my only purpose to produce heirs until I end like...” »

« " I know you are frightened, but I won't let anything happen to you.” »

Proceeding with the wedding, you and Daemon cut your hands and lips with dragonglass, mixed your blood in a ceremonial chalice, and marked Valyrian glyphs in blood on your foreheads.

"Hen lantoti ānogar. Va sȳndroti vāedroma.” Blood of two. Joined as one. the High Priest prayed in High Valyrian. "Mēro perzot gīhoti. Elēdroma iārza sīr. Izulī ampā perzī. Prūmī lanti sēteksi. Hen jenȳ māzīlarion. Qēlossa ozūndesi. Sȳndroro ōñō jēdo. Rȳ kīvia mazvestraksi.” Ghostly flame. And song of shadows. Two hearts as embers. Forged in fourteen fires. A future promised in glass. The stars stand witness. The vow spoken through time. Of darkness and light.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Red Keep ― Maegor's Holdfast...

"A perversion of justice," Larys commented. "The young Prince Aemond... defiled. An outrage."

"Indeed," Alicent replied. Since her father took control of her influence, the instructions were left relatively straightforward. Her position as Queen Consort was in dire jeopardy.

"If it's an eye you want to balance the scales, I am your servant."

"Don't bother. Even if Rhaenyra's bastards are mere pushovers, she and daemon are another matter entirely. So even if I wanted to, such actions would only bring further unnecessary trouble. But your devotion has not gone unnoticed."

"These are dangerous times."

"The day will doubtless come when House Hightower will require such a friend. With not only skill but discretion as well."

"I shall await your call, my queen. However..." Larys passed on a note. "It's come to my attention that a certain young princess has done the unthinkable, Your Grace."

Alicent raised a curious eyebrow and examined the note. Her eyes traced the handwriting intricately. When she finally realized what Larys's spies had uncovered, the queen couldn't help but gulp. "My sweet girl.." She turned to Larys. "Thank you for letting me know."

––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Dragonstone

After the wedding, there was no bedding ceremony. As much as daemon had wanted to bed you, he knew it was not something you wanted yet, still far to scared of your duties as wife. Only you two would know that secret, to anyone else you had consummated.

You had avoided daemon after that night, trying your hardest to not speak to him, or to avoid his presence altogether. Having never been close with him beforehand, you didn’t know what to talk to him about. If you weren’t being a wife, what else should you be doing? You did not know.

The small folk and the fishermen looked up in confusion as you passed them, it wasnt a usual occurrence that a Targaryen princess such as yourself, walked along the dusty beach of dragonstone, in a fancy dress no less. You had wanted to clear your mind, you told yourself. But subconsciously, it might have had something to do with the sightings of a dragon near the beach the past few days.

Daemon had assigned a personal guard to you, to keep you safe. If the guard reported back to him on your doings, you did not know. But if he did, it wasn’t obvious. “Princess, maybe we should turn back.” Ser Steffon spoke, gulping as he hears the screams of terror as a dragon is sighted flying towards the beach.

“If you want to return, you are welcome to do so Ser. I am staying.” Claiming a dragon wasnt the first thing that crossed your mind, you simply wanted to stay at the beach. And unlike the small folk, you were not terrified of dragons. But yet as the dragon flew over you, and the thought of claiming it did cross your mind, a small tingle of terror did run over your spine before you shook it off. You are a targaryen, this is your birthright. You tell yourself. Don’t be scared of what is owed to you.

You speed up to the flat lands where you saw the dragon land. You hadn’t seen what dragon it was, you had only hoped it was seasmoke, or any other dragon that wasn’t as scary, in your mind, as the wild ones.

After Aemond claimed vhagar, you were left the only Targaryen without a mount. It broke your heart when your dragon didn’t hatch in OldTown. Now that you had this opportunity in front of you, you weren’t gonna let it go to waste.

Ser Steffon, however scared, did not turn away, and instead followed you. Ofcourse his pleadings to turn back never stopped, and neither did his murmurs: “Prince Daemon is going to kill me.”

Now that you have the dragon in your full sight, you can finally see which one it is. You audibly gulp. “grey ghost.”, you whisper to yourself. It just had to be a wild dragon didn’t it?

You don’t let it deter you, slowly stepping closer. you were never taught High Valyrian in OldTown, you had only started learning with Rhaenyra when you first came to dragonstone. You hadn’t progressed far, so you tried your hardest to remember dragon commands. Lykirī, dohaerās, sōvēs, you recited over and over in your head as you stopped in front of Grey Ghost. He is a beautiful pale grey-white dragon, and if the stories were true, he blended in beautifully with the clouds.

It made sense that he was near the beach these past few days, according to the stories you had heard, Grey Ghost preferred fish.

“Beautiful”, you mumble to yourself, you were mesmerised.

“Princess! Please get away from that beast!”

You clench your jaw, “Dragons are not beasts, Ser Steffon, they are beautiful creatures. If you do not wish to be here, you are free to leave!” You yell at him over the wind.

You take small steps towards Grey Ghost, and he growls at you. “Lykirī, Grey Ghost, Dohaerās!”

You chant those two words over and over towards him, your hand held out as you step closer to his head. This is it, you think, this is the part where i get burned alive.

Eventually you step so close, your hand lands on his snout. “Kostilus” you whisper, please.

Grey Ghost turns his head away. You move towards the length of his body, praying to the seven you won’t get burned, or eaten.

You hear Ser Steffon running away, probably to fetch Daemon, or other guards. You dont know why, if this is when Grey Ghost decides to kill you, nobody would be able to stop it.

You slowly climb up, somewhat clumsily seeing as Grey Ghost has no saddle for you to climb up on, and you’re wearing a dress instead of the usual riding wear.

As you manoeuvre yourself on top, you settle down and let out a sigh of relief, It doesnt last long because you’re forced to lean forward and grab onto something, anything, as grey ghost moves. “Lykirī, Grey Ghost, sōvēs.”

With that, Grey Ghost takes off. Once in the sky, its hard for you to not panic. Not only is Grey Ghost very fast and very excited, you are also flying at a great height without a saddle, or reigns to hold onto.

You hear a loud roar and suddenly a red dragon flies beside you, caraxes. A smile blossoms onto your face as you follow the length of the blood wyrms body til your eyes land on your husband.

Daemon smiles at you, as he leans back in his saddle and spreads his arm wide. You’d do the same, but you are nowhere near as skilled at riding a dragon as he is.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Dragonstone —— DragonMont

Your feet touch the ground as you dismount Grey Ghost. You spent an hour in the sky, flying around with Daemon, before he led you to the dragonmont.

In the sky it was fun, but you knew that now you’re on the ground, you were in for a scolding. And as you approach Daemon, the stern look on his face proves you right.

He meets you halfway, stands impossibly close to you, puts his hand on your waist to lock you in and places his head right beside yours. “Do you know how reckless and dangerous that was?”

You sigh, but dont say anything to excuse yourself, because nothing will excuse it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you happy now? Did you get what you so desperately needed? you were even willing to risk your own life for it.”

You say nothing, you dont move and you dont speak, you only avert your eyes downwards. Daemon notices and pulls back slightly. He puts his fingers under your chin and forces you to make eye contact with him again. He leans slightly forward, and presses his forehead against yours for nothing more of a nanosecond before pulling away again and walking off, leaving you standing there.

Part 3, anyone?

explore post, masterlist

please comment & reblog if you enjoyed. <3

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beuxwhoyouare · 7 months ago

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Bewildering

The Skreat escape pod crash landing on Earth one night caused chaos in more ways than one. Several people’s lives were altered forever by the events that immediately followed the ships blazing destruction. It was dark as sirens blared through the night heading towards the blaze.

I woke up by the shrieking sounds of alarms approaching. We crashed on some foreign planet after the sudden attack. My biggest fear was being captured on this planet, what if they were the ones that attacked us? What if they took me and tortured me for species secrets. I couldn't let them know about Skreats and began slithering as fast as I could through the area lined with bark lined towers.

2 figures approached in the night, but I couldn't focus on identifying features and chose to hide. Suctioning my way up a bark tower, I chose to use my observation skills to determine if they were friendly organisms or foes determined to take me in for experimentation.

"Raph I don't think we should get closer. We should go back to camp and evacuate. It looks like it could lead to a big wild fire," the shorter of the two pleaded with the bigger one.

"Alex, dude. There's no way it wasn't like a giant secret ship or something insane that caused it. Didn't you hear that crazy crash? We gotta see this thing first hand," the taller and much more statured of the two said with a boomy resonance.

The two were going towards the ship crash at a rate faster than I could slithering on this planets gravitational pull. I decided they were my way to observe the site and get there faster. I dropped my suction and aimed to fall on their bags. After detaching, I aimed to fall on the broader one since it seemed like my size would be negligible on him.

After falling onto his bag, he turned around as if he heard something behind him, but by that point I had slid into an opening on the enclosure. We Skreats are very pliable and I made my way into his bag.

The pair of earthlings made their way closer to the ships crash site but by the time they got there bright lights and tape marked off the region. Curiosity struck many trying to get a sight at the alien ship. I peaked out of the bag only to see the blaze. There’s no way any Skreats could have survived such a blast.

Numb. All I felt was numbness as this earthling unknowingly carried me away from the scene. Was I the last Skreat? How does one internalize the idea that you’re the last of your kind? The bag shook and then got flung onto a nearby soft surface after a loud door shut. I flew inside the bag which rocked me back to cognizance. Where am I now? I peaked out of the fabric cage I resided in and saw the taller one walking around a room.

He peered into a doorway that emanated light before pulling out a round red sphere and taking a bite.

He appeared to be preparing earthen sustenance…I should become more accustomed to this if I’m the last Skreat I’ll need to blend in with the earthlings. I left the soft seat the bag was thrown onto and slid my way closer to get a better look.

He threw things into a hot cauldron item over a flame. After a few time sectors he was done and put some of the substance into a bowl, that’s when I lost my grip on some steam and fell into the bowl when he wasn’t aware.

I hid among orange, green, and tan bits of sustenance in the hot salty broth. I stung but I couldn’t risk being caught. Eventually a colder metallic platform came into the bowl and lifted me up to his front facing orifice, despite my protests I got swallowed again without his notice.

I refused to be defeated. I mustered up the energy and detoured before meeting the earthlings digestive acids and headed to his core. I guess you call it a heart.

Once there, I began inserting my tendrils and began spreading myself through his bloodstream. It’s a large task for such a small Skreat like myself to attempt a takeover of a creature this large but I was desperate to live.

The large creature began to notice and clasped hard at his chest. But it was too late for him. Pulse pulse pulse. I could feel his heart pumping and eventually I synced up with it. We were becoming one. It’s a skill of the Skreats but it was my first time doing it. I was scared to do it wrong or worse…kill the host.

I began trying to use my new lungs. A phenomenon that like sounds like gasping for air from those who normally use lungs. Eventually I calmed down and brought the heart pulsing down to a normal seeming speed. All the internal systems seemed to normalize as I calmed the body down.

Except one part of the sizable earthling….

I used the body’s messaging device to take an image for further research later. Then I continued to calm the body down leading the appendage to become more restrained. But a message appeared from someone named Babe. I opened it up to see a slimmer earthling with longer hair. They appeared unclothed with a message saying “can i come over?” I replied with my new fingers “affirmative”.

I continued to try enjoying the sustenance the human made before. Wow these sensations from my new mouth were so vibrant and exhilarating. I wonder what else I can figure out. My new thick fingers fiddled with the bag I came out of nearby. An item flopped out with a bunch of cards, I picked up one with this bodies image.

Raphael James Conrad Lee. Was that his identification? That seems very long and superfluous. Must be why that other human called him Raph before.

A knock came to the door of the housing unit I was in. I approached the door and instead of investigating almost as if the host was on autopilot it turned the knob and a tiny earthling stood there in a see through top piece of clothing and a frilly bottom one. I believe this must be the opposite gender, a woman.

She lunged at me piloting the host and placed her mouth on to mine introducing her anatomy to mine. I reciprocated before she yanked my bottom clothing down. My previously hard appendage revived itself with a mind of its own as the woman placed her mouth on it.

All I saw was her eyes as she moved swiftly. One she placed her mouth on it, it felt like all I could see was colors. Oh my what is this phenomenon. Ohhhhh unhhhhhh. What are these sounds escaping my mouth. Before I knew it, the feeling became overwhelming. I felt something coming. My hosts feet previously firmly planted on the ground, curled its toes. My abdomen contracted and then a RELEASE. I opened my eyes as she wiped something. She placed her mouth on mine again and said “thanks”. Before immediately fleeing.

What was that? What is this experience. And why does it feel so good?

I need to understand more about what this appendage does. I wonder if that tiny male human that was with “me” earlier might want to do the same activities with his appendages. I try to recall his identification. Cmon I knew I heard him say it. Lex, Ale, Alex….Alex? Yes.

I picked up the messaging device and snapped an image. I copied the text the woman sent me. “Come over”. Maybe that’s how humans that want that activity communicate it to one another.

Almost immediately the device buzzed.

“Oh bro I didn’t know you rolled like that too?”

What do these words mean? I don’t want him to out me for acting outlandish…okay I can do this.

“Yeah bro. So are you cuming?”

A hand with a thumbs up appeared above the message appeared? What does this mean? So much to learn about this planet. I better start learning if I want to blend in.

The door was never closed after the woman left and a one pound happened on the already opened door. Before I could approach it to see who it was. Alex was there at the door. I could see the same energy the woman had in his eyes. He slammed the door behind him and unclothed himself with haste. He also had an appendage hard like mine, but smaller. Was my body considered an alpha amongst men?

He approached with eagerness but also a tenderness, unlike the woman. I put my mouth on his like she did to me. I was about to show Alex everything I’ve learned about earthlings.

#identity theft #body possession #male body possession #alien takeover #bisexual

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honeymoondollie · 1 month ago

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The blackest day.

Misogynistic Abby x fem reader.

Hi Angels !! Here’s the misogynistic Abby fic ! Writing this was definitely something, please mind the warnings because this one is pretty dark. There is no smut !! I love you guys and please take care of yourselves ! 𓆩♡𓆪

CW: misogynistic Abby duh. Slapping, punching, hair grabbing. Degrading names used. Abuse is the norm for people. Just lots of abuse. Abby is so mean. Huge warning for domestic violence !!

DARK CONTENT AHEAD YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!

MINORS AND MEN DNI !!

When you and Abby first got together, you thought you had found the love of your life, your soulmate, but as time went on, you started to realize maybe you were blinded. You ignored all the red flags in the beginning, and there were quite a few. You started noticing them towards that one-year anniversary mark with her, the videos she would send you on Instagram or TikTok. The photos she would like to send you.

They all had a common theme, it was all tradwife content where it was obvious that the woman was not happy with her 10 kids and her husband who looks abusive as fuck. Or those videos of women who would live as 1950s housewives—it was all odd, yet you never questioned it. After the wedding with Abby, you notice so many changes in her. She was always making super misogynistic comments. Things like

‘Women belong at home.’

‘Women obey their partners.’

Always something along those lines, the comments angered you to no end. Abby seemed to forget that those apply to her too. So you fought with her over them, telling her to watch it, but you soon would figure out that Abby’s plan was to break you.

Abby comes home from work, that day in particular you didn’t really do anything cause you didn’t have the energy. when she gets back her demeanor is different, the air feels thick, suffocating, it's not comfortable. Her footsteps echo loudly as she makes her way towards you. Abby had a mean look on her face, looking around she found nothing.

“What did you do all day?” Abby's voice is loud and it echoes around the room. Looking at her you look confused, what does she mean? You woke up, got ready, ate, cleaned a bit and then relaxed. What more did she want?

“What do you mean?” she didn't let you finish before her hand grips your forearm, yanking you up she drags you to the bedroom and opens the closet. Abby throws all your clothes on the bed except the ones she got for you—all your pants, leggings, tops, all of it gine. The dresses, skirts and shirts Abby got you are staying. “Abby what the fuck are you doing? Are you insane?” Ignoring you, she takes them all, throws them in a bag, and drags you and the bag out to the backyard, to the bonfire pit.

“Wait Abby, no—what are-” All of your clothes are dumped, and Abby throws a match in before you can stop it. You watch in shock and horror as your clothes are burning. You scream at her but she gets sick and backhands you hard. Yanking your arm she drags you back inside to the kitchen where she throws you against the counter. “Youre a married woman know your fucking place, from now on there are rules, rember them or face the consequences.” You're still shaking and crying from the clothes and slap. It takes you a little bit to recover from the events that played out but when you do it’s all hell from there.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you Abby?! What was that for?” Screaming at her pushing at her chest, Abby’s hand grabs your wrist squeezing tightly. Harshly she shoves you against the wall knocking the wind out of you. Gasping, you try to wiggle out but she’s way stronger than you.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that woman, you understand me? Come on answer” the way she said that added more fuel to the flame inside of you; what you do next catches Abby off guard. You spit in her face and push at her chest. Running to the living room you grab your keys and grab your keys, and Abby follows you out. As you got coser to your car you see all four of your fucking tires slashed, what the fuck?? You can't dwell on it for too long before Abby grabs you by the arm and tries to drag you back, seeing you are not letting her win easily, so you give her hell.

Screaming, kicking her leg, flailing your arms in all directions trying to hit her, unfortunately she overpowers you and gets you inside, where she throws you over her shoulder, making her way to the bedroom. Abby throws you on the bed, but you quickly get up.

“Abby what the fuck ! what the fuck is wrong with you ? I will not let myself be disrespected like this.” It's like talking to a brick wall. Abby's back is turned to you the whole time. After a while of hurling insults at her, she finally turns around, but you don't expect her to backhand you across the face, not giving you time to recover before landing another slap to your cheek. Her hands cradle your face, but not in a gentle, caring way, no. It's a harsh grip, one that hurts and will leave your jaw aching.

“Things are going to be run differently from now on, okay? I expect you to be up every morning at 6am sharp, help me get ready for work, get breakfast ready and my lunch should be ready too. I want you to dress in whatever I choose for you every day now, no more whorish clothes. I expect this house to be clean everyday and dinner on the table when I come home, you better start acting like a proper woman because we will be having dinner at my parents house in two weeks. understood ?”

You felt sick to your stomach. Was this really the woman you married? No, it couldn't be. No, no, you had to change her. I mean, could you? Would she give up these misogynist traditional ways? You don't know actually, and the chances of Abby agreeing to a divorce were so slim. Feeling tired and defeated you just agree.

“Yes abby” abby looks at you and releases your face, giving both of your cheeks kisses. The night goes by normally as if nothing happened but the sting on your cheeks were the reminder of what's to come.

A week goes by and you feel exhausted and completely hopeless. Abby is relentless in her ways not letting you have any breaks except for when you sleep, this is the definition of hell to you. Everything had to get through Abby first which made it so hard to do anything, you wanted that outfit, she had to approve first. You want to go out with them; Abby has to say yes and know your exact location. It was just Abby centered everything; you soon found that fighting against Abby was futile because she was not afraid to put you back into your place. The slaps, punches, kicks, punches, hair pulling, burns ,was all that she used. Your body was broken and beaten, bruises everywhere, cuts all over you, and it had only been a week. Abby was not the woman you once knew.

Talking to the other women in the neighborhood did you no good, because they were envious and jealous that you had gotten to marry Abby and be her wife. To them, the abuse and you begging them for help were dramatic, and every marriage has a bit of abuse in it. Quickly you put the pieces together and came to the conclusion that these women were equally as brainwashed as Abby.

You saw how they covered up the bruises, the eye bags from barely getting sleep. Discussing the best concealer and foundation out there for those bruises and eyebags and burn marks. This was the norm for them and it killed you. How do you get away from this? I mean could you?

The family dinner was a disaster. Abby gave you absolute hell that day; she came home from work earlier, and she was pissed to see that her suit wasn't ironed. You desperately tried to explain to her that you had ironed it but the hanger probably left a small crease, the answer pissed her off because next thing you know her fist comes swinging at you face full force. You get knocked back into your vanity, where your bottle of perfume falls over, landing right on you. Tears well up in your eyes as Abby crouches down in front of you, grabbing your jaw in her strong grip, forcing you to look at her even though your eye is in pain.

“Do not give me backtalk, ever. Now get up and make yourself look decent, dont fucking embarass me infront of my family, okay?” Abby lets you go and you just sit there reflecting and crying. What is this life? Quilt, you get up and see that there is a big black bruise on your eye now. Sighing heavily, you just get your dress on and do your makeup and hair. After an hour you go and meet Abby downstairs; she sees you and smiles, “My beautiful girl, let's go now.”

The drive is hell for you. Lets just say when you get there it's known that they hate you, the comments about your appearances, needing to lose weight, maybe investing in plastic surgery. Or how you're not a good housewife and that Abby needs to “keep you on a leash” or “train you better” as if you were a fucking dog. You kept your mouth shut because you were afraid of Abby, her icy cold glare daring you to say something. The night goes on and by the end when you and Abby finally leave its like a fresh breath of air on the drive abby is silent the whole way home which is kinda nice but the silence is super eerie. When she gets home she goes straight to the couch, her legs spread, she lets out a big sigh and loosens her tie. You plop down on the couch opposite to her and talk.

“Your family is kinda crazy, i mean wow your mother -” You didn't even see her get up before you felt a slap on your face. You hold your cheek and look at her, she was undoing her belt, rolling up her sleeves she brings the belt down onto your back. Getting up you try to run away but she grabs your hair and throws you on the ground, your legs start swinging trying to kick her legs. You scream and cry, but she doesn't let up.

“Who gave you the right to talk about my family that way, you whore? I own you okay, you're mine.” her belt swings down on your legs and back, your throat hurts everythings sore. At the end when she's down she tells you to clean yourself up and goes to bed, leaving you all alone sobbing on the cold floor.

Tags 𓆩♡𓆪 @bvtchbait @sleepinginherbed @sleeplessbunni @abbysluckycharm @meowiu @elsroseytoy @elswhore @tqlepatia @messybruises @graciedollie @h2pinky @tiffys-posts + let me know if I missed you or if you wanna be tagged !!

#Dollie writes 🩰#dark content #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson x you #Abby Anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson tlou2 #Abby Anderson

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reds-skull · 8 months ago

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The frames of the video from the comic in the previous post. I experimented a lot with this, it was really fun to work with this chunky brush I found. Also the first time I draw the Reaper of Destruction as it was before Lumity!

More comments under the cut+a frame I ended up scrapping!

I'll go by order of appearance, because it's basically a chronological retelling of the events of part 1.

So the first frame is the least fancy because it was the first and I didn't nail down a style for this yet lol. It shows Ghost and Soap's first true meeting, in chapter 1, where Ghost helps Soap when he gets impaled by a rebar.

The second frame jumps to chapter 8, when Ghost first put Soap in Limbo. The triangle around them was a later addition, taken from the next frame. I love this scene, it's so fun to see it drawn out now :)

The third frame was the most important one to nail the style. I painted a whole frame, only to come back to it the next day and restart from almost 0.

This is the original third frame

They both show the same event - chapter 21, the second time Soap is thrown into Limbo. The difference is, one shows a more literal image of what happened, and the other is more symbolic.

And by now I think you know how much I love symbolism lol

What also bothered me with the scraped painting is that the composition isn't central, and the entire pose, while more dynamic, isn't fitting the mural feel the rest has.

There's an even earlier version of the scrapped painting, with Soap's face, but nowhere else there are faces in these series, so I went wild with it and covered it with flames. He had them behind him already, as the description of this scene in the fic says Soap had a helo of fire behind him.

(also hated how Limbo's victims looked in the scrapped version like... ew lol)

There wasn't a real reason to add the circles around Soap. I just wanted to lean more heavily into the mural style. But I took that circle motif to the end, after that, and added it to Ghost as well, hence the triangle.

Soap has one skeletal hand, and one palm. That one is on purpose, to show he's hanging in between life and death.

The fourth frame is pretty self-explanatory, it shows the part in chapter 21 where Soap gets the dark marks on his forearm. If the colors look weird in that one, it's because I messed with them so much I couldn't tell if they look good anymore on not

The fifth frame shows another favorite moment of mine, the moment Ghost gets his marks, the white tear tracks, when he finally notices Soap fighting in the void.

The sixth frame is my favorite of the bunch. Soap and Ghost, the triangle and circle combined. The moment they killed Graves, Ghost in full control of his subjects, Soap with his sword of white fire and army of burning moths. They look so scary in this one I love them

The seventh frame shows Void and Destruction. Void was straight forward, I've drawn it a few times before, but I had to make a more detailed design for Destruction, and I only had the very first sketches I made for Revenant AU to go off of, as well as Lumity's design. Idk why I designed Lumity before Destruction, but that's how it is. I wanted Destruction melting, like it can't handle its own heat.

The eighth frame is of Void and Destruction combining. In the fic they had in-between states, it didn't look like this, but for the sake of the video I thought it'd be nicer to have a clear frame of them combining.

The ninth and last frame is of our beloved Lumity. Their design is a little more detailed than the drawing I made a while back. This frame is also the only one that interacts with the foreground, aka Makarov. I think he was jump-scared, don't know how much that comes across.

Damn I had a lot to write. Well, when given the opportunity to ramble...

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod ghost #cod soap #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #revenant au #cod fanart #...fanart of my own au for the most part but oh well #ty for reading whoever did <3

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hisunshiine · 9 months ago

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—eternal reign | knj |

🥀 pairing: vampire king!namjoon x concubine!namedreader 🥀 au/genre: arranged marriage au, joseon era au, s2l, fluff, smut, angst 🥀 rating: M 🥀 wc: 7,748 🥀 warnings: some Joseon Dynasty research, reader starts as a concubine, mentions of murders, minor character deaths (off screen, minimal detail), patriarchal society, this is a vampire story, so some things come with the territory, like: mentions of blood, dubious consent, blood drinking, bleeding, scars, predator/prey feelings, explicit smut: unprotected vaginal sex, blood play, marking, eating out, nipple play 🥀 an: I used some of the historical figures of the Joseon Dynasty, and while I researched a lot for accuracy of this time period to respect the culture to the best of my knowledge, some historical information has been shifted and molded as this is a fiction story. For more information on Korean Coronation Events. Dual POV of 3rd and 2nd person, but the reader is named.

special thanks to the beta readers: @moonleeai, @colormepurplex2, @downbad4yoongi, @heathfritillary-blog, and @pars-ley

🥀 summary: In the shadowed courts of the Joseon Dynasty, a new King rules—one who holds a centuries-old secret that could unravel the kingdom. Namjoon, cloaked in mystery, is forced into a political marriage with the cunning yet unknowing Taelani, who soon discovers that her husband is no mere mortal. Drawn into his dark legacy and a web of alliances that could seal their fate, Taelani faces a choice: fulfill her family’s long-hidden destiny or defy it in pursuit of a forbidden love. As whispers of blood and betrayal rise, the throne itself may be the ultimate sacrifice.

🥀 an#2:🎃This wicked treat was written for Theresa - @mrsparkjimin18 as part of the “Sweet Tricks & Wicked Treats” BWHQ Fic Gifting Event 🎃and was also written for the @bangtanwritershq’s 4th Quarter Writing Event: Monster Mash

masterlist ❁ ao3

Joseon Dynasty year 1483

🥀🥀🥀Namjoon🥀🥀🥀

Namjoon never expected to sit upon the sacred altar in Changdeokgung Palace, as the recipient of the Three Cheers from the crowd, where the people hurrahed for his longevity and for the dynasty.

“We are meant to rule from the shadows,” the memory of his grandfather’s voice flits through his head as if he’s standing beside him. “An absolute and eternal reign relies on the eternal flame which burns with our dedication and loyalty, and which must remain out of sight from those who wish to douse our light.”

And yet, mere hours ago, under the beating heat of the Korean sun, he participated in the Transfer of the State Seal with Queen Sindeok, listened to the Three Solemn Calls, watched as the Three Kowtows were performed, and returned it with the Four Ceremonious Bows.

The room around him is loud, and Namjoon struggles to focus for a moment as he gazes across the crowded space. The gilded walls encapsulate the refreshments and revelry as the noble families celebrate his ascension to ruler of the country. He looks around, eyes finally landing on his family members split between being wall flowers blending in and meteor showers glittering as they shine across the night sky.

He takes an unneeded deep breath, sighing in his discomfort. He knows it was his idea; something had to be done to maintain the balance in the realm, but he’s not used to being a figurehead for something so much larger than himself—for the very thing he sacrificed everything for to protect.

“Ah, Yi Bang— I mean, King Namjoon, my apologies,” the greasy-haired Chief State Councillor Jeong Dojeon bows lowly in apology at using the given name of the prince and not his newly appointed royal title now that the transition to king has been completed.

That is one upside to this position, Namjoon thinks as he stares at the man. Even if I must hide my identity, at least I am able to keep my true name.

“I wanted to present to you my family’s gift for your coronation.” His eyes, small and squirrely, gleam with a dark intent that Namjoon has always detested. As one of the government officials appointed by the previous Queen’s father, Dojeon craves ultimate power, pushing for the Councillors to make decisions for the King, instead of enacting and enforcing the King’s decisions. “This is Jeong Taelani, my eldest daughter. She is now yours, Pyeha.”

The honorific term is not lost on Namjoon. The Chief State Councillor’s schmoozing actions are as oily as his hair, but Namjoon’s not a squeaking door, and his disdain only grows as he tracks the sweep of Dojeon’s hand towards the girl next to him, as if he needs a concubine to loosen him up.

But Namjoon has to work hard to school his features back to stoic boredom when his eyes fall onto the—unable to believe he called her a girl—beautiful woman standing a pace behind her father.

Red hanbok lace and silks flow over her curves. Gold threading is woven intricately at the hem, along the cuffs engulfing her delicate hands, and at the lapels that tie above the swell of her breasts, glimmering, resplendent swirls that captivate him. He doesn’t show it, though. Despite his next words, his tone is full of boredom and his eyes barely linger on her.

“Thank you, Dojeon, she is a true beauty.”

The older man smirks, rubbing his bearded face thoughtfully. “She has been trained for, ahem, her position—assisting your every need—in the palace her whole life, and vetted through the steps to be placed here just last week. I am sure that you will find her to be up to your standards.” He bows once more, this time much lower, before backing away from the elevated seating area and disappearing back into the party.

“Emperor,” Taelani bows deeply, her knees gracefully meeting the floor as she pays him the respect of a ruling monarch. Her voice is a deeper honey sound, more seduction than the tittering pitch of the female nobles Namjoon is used to.

“Jeong Taelani,” Namjoon tests her name in his mouth, her jasmine fragrance invading his senses as she resumes her previous standing position. Her large eyes look away from his gaze quickly, but that’s all he needs to feel the heat of the lightning they struck him with. He can feel his pants tightening—thankfully, his gujangbok covers his crotch from the view of both Taelani and his attendees.

He stiffens, feeling something else begin to lengthen in need, and he turns his eyes swiftly away from Taelani, looking at the palace guards nearest him.

“Please escort Taelani to her chambers, and send for the Huwon guards. I will meet them shortly.”

🥀

Sharpened ivory glistens under the moonlight before piercing the unblemished bronze skin of the woman’s throat, his venom silencing the beginnings of a guttural shriek before it can really begin. He settles in the gazebo with a jimil nain, or lady-in-waiting, straddled across his lap. Her throaty sounds transition instead to a pleasurable moan as she attempts to grip the lapels of his ceremonial robes.

He grasps her hands, pulling them away from him and moving them behind her back, clutching both wrists in one hand so his free hand can resume controlling her head for his monthly feeding. One that he should not have needed just yet, thanks to the retaliatory massacre last week, but he ignores that fact for now.

The blood fills his mouth, sharp pulls draining the essence from the woman as her movements against his body slow. He’s thankful—her body is not the one he craves to be writhing above him in pleasure, despite her lovely sounds and curves.

He has to play this role smartly. His family’s legacy is on the line. He withdraws his fangs, feeling the dull ache of thirst dissipate fully as his blood lust retreats. The woman is nearly unconscious, and the two guards who brought her approach her limp form silently.

“Thank you,” he says to his younger brothers, both adorned in the traditional wear of the Naegeumwi Royal Guards. They take the woman from him as he stands before the youngest of the two, Jungkook, takes her fully and holds her almost in a lover’s embrace. Namjoon looks at them as he steps several paces away and Taehyung, his other sibling, approaches him and straightens his robes to help him look presentable again.

“NaBi was the only one we could get on such short notice,” he explains quietly as the sounds of Jungkook feeding crescendos and subsequently drops as he heals the bites on the now sleeping woman’s neck. “She was already in Kook’s room waiting for him.”

Namjoon runs his fingers over his silks, tightening the belt at his waist. “Tell him I’m sorry I didn’t mean to mess up his feeding schedule. The hunger just took over and I…”

“He understands.” Taehyung places his hand on his older brother’s shoulder. “We’ve never taken on something like this, so we didn’t know what to prepare for. We’ll move more of the feeders into the palace in various positions, and Jimin can oversee them. Your plan was the best one, and we will find a way to make it work.”

Jungkook cradles the woman’s body in his arms bridal style as he steps towards the door. He and Taehyung lead Namjoon out of the garden and back towards the main palace. Jungkook turns to the left down a hallway after they enter shelter as Taehyung and Namjoon continue toward the Emperor's chambers.

“Have Jimin order more of the blood tea for the feeders. I’m not sure how often I’ll need to feed now that…” he trails off as they walk, thoughts conflicted with this strange turn of events. He stops once he reaches the doorway of his room. “And Taehyung? Discretion, please.”

Namjoon feels the tension leave his body once he is in his own space. He didn’t expect to feel the voracious pull to feed so soon—he drank more than his fill merely a week ago. Typically, he feeds once a month, so the blood lust he just quenched is strange. Could it be because of his new concubine? Her scent is oddly alluring to him, and his attraction to her is undeniable. He hasn’t ever experienced such a thing, but maybe one of the elders knows something more.

🥀🥀🥀Taelani🥀🥀🥀

Confused. That’s how you feel as you are led away from the king, his eyes regarding you cooly before you disappear into the quiet halls of the palace. Your slippers and the silks you wear are the only sounds you hear as you are shown the pathway to your quarters, and then the low hum of the maids' voices as they help you undress and prepare for bed.

The next week continues much the same as your first night in the castle. The other court members are seemingly always busy, leaving you bored and unsure of yourself. On the one hand, you are happy that you haven’t been called upon like you were warned would happen—like you’ve been trained for. Your womanhood remains intact, something you did not expect to happen, but it allows your time of the month to come and go without any issues.

A part of you did fear that your menstrual cycle would agitate the new king should he come upon you that first night, but instead, he had shied away, allowing you time to spend in the royal library reading and writing letters to your sisters. At the end of the first week, you squeal with happiness when a courtier brings you a sealed parchment marked with your family’s crest.

Dearest Taelani,

How have you been? We are so pleased that you’ve had time to write to us. Is it nice there? I so wish we could have joined you on the trip, but Father said no. Are the rumors true? Is the king as bloodthirsty as his predecessors? Is there war on the horizon? Will you be able to throw a fancy ball so we can visit? I know you’re his only concubine right now, do you think you will become his wife? Father is not telling us much, and he’s making it seem like we shall never get to travel to see you.

Don’t forget us!

As if you could ever forget your sisters. And a ball sounds like a lovely idea…really. You wonder if the king would allow you to do such a thing and if your father would allow your sisters to come. Maybe if the king demanded their presence. Your sister made a good point that right now, there’s no one else to compete with for his affections. If you can charm him, is there a possibility..? If only he would see you or talk to you. How else could you convince him of this one favor, or even that you’re worthy of a more legitimate role?

It couldn’t be so easy as to show up at his bedchamber tonight and try and convince him with a well-placed massage? Could it?

Deciding to reign in all of your thoughts, you hold off on writing back so as to see first if you could plan a soiree of some sort, and turn back to the book you were reading before the courtier arrived. It was not written all that long ago, but it details some of the more recent history of the country, including the king’s grandfather.

You had always thought it to be an urban legend, the stories whispered in the dark about when his grandfather was in power, but as you read through the history of the family, you realize with each story of the king’s grandfather that he truly was blood thirsty for power—he apparently murdered all of his older siblings for the throne.

There is a massive family plot to the south of the palace that holds his deceased siblings, and ever since, despite the number of enemies the crown has acquired over the years, his family line has been the only one to rule. Every attempt to maim and murder the royal family has been thwarted, and the groups leading the coups are never to be seen or heard from again. Bloodthirsty isn’t even half of it.

Closing the handwritten tome, you gather your skirts about you so that you can climb off the comfortable lounging spot. You have spent all week reading through to try and understand this family that you now reside with, but all you seem to find is death and despair. Through the window you can see the sun is setting, and now that you have a plan in mind, you decide to seek out the king instead of waiting for him to come to you. With your cycle gone, you feel confident enough to seduce King Namjoon. As his first concubine, you are sure you won’t be the last, but you want to make an impression.

As a woman in this world, your power is lacking. The power you do hold will be in the sons you can bear for the king, and in the ability to wield your feminine wiles to seduce and keep the king wrapped around your finger. Best to start now.

🥀

The palace corridors are well-lit as you traverse the pathway towards the king’s chambers. You made a quick stop at your own rooms, shedding the hairpins that bound your hair tightly, allowing your tresses to fall in subtle waves from the earlier styling. You also shed some of the layers you typically wear, allowing you to show off more of your curves.

There doesn’t appear to be anyone outside the door to his room, so you slip in easily, taking a look around. The room is tidy, with barely anything on display on the walls or in cabinets to show his personality. Cold, just like he was the first time you met. A few minutes pass as you observe what you can, until voices outside the door alert you to the king’s approach. You position yourself on his bed, sitting at the edge with a leg crossed over the other and your palms behind you as you lean back slightly.

Your loose hair is over one shoulder, and you attempt to flutter your eyes demurely as King Namjoon steps into his bedchamber.

🥀

Ten minutes later, you stand in your own room again, confused by what had occurred. The King, a young, virile man, sent you out after you all but threw yourself at him. If anything, he seemed in a rush to get you out of his rooms, all but promising that you had nothing to worry about when you voiced not carrying out your duties.

“I know you worry about your standing in the palace, but you have nothing to fear. I will not be taking in any other women—you are the only one for me. You will be my Queen Consort. So please, you don’t have to stoop to these levels. You are excused.”

You definitely hadn’t prepared what to do in the event that the King said you didn’t need to seduce him and that you would be his Queen Consort. All of the stories the women told you about had prepared you for losing your virginity and other sexual acts to seduce the King and win his favor. Nothing they shared with you implied you wouldn’t have to do anything sexually with the man and he would raise your status one step, though a large one in the eyes of the nation. A wedding already in the works, unbeknownst to you. How strange this new king is.

🥀

The royal wedding that everyone has been waiting for a month to arrive is nearly here, with you in your red gowns of silks and satin, awaiting your cue for the ceremony. As much as you’ve enjoyed not having to behave wantonly, a part of you is drawn to your betrothed, and you realize: you want to. His movements as he walks through the palace, the grace with which he moves and speaks, all of these small things seem to thrum through your body, lighting all of your nerve endings on fire.

Why he denies himself the access he has to your body, you aren’t sure, but you hope that this wedding means that will come to an end. Maybe he’s just been waiting for tonight to consummate the marriage, instead of behaving how you were warned all men with power behave.

Everything is a blur as the hours pass, the sun crossing the sky until it descends below the horizon, allowing the moon to rise into its rightful place. With all of the revelers now sated in thirst or hunger or desire, they’re all sequestered away in the places that allow them to unwind. Most of the palace is now quiet, and you tiptoe with feather-light steps across the bedchamber towards your newly betrothed.

The King sits at an ornamental desk, metallic paints wrapping around the curves of the furniture as he leans over and writes, the scratches of the quill on the parchment revealing the short strokes he writes in Hangul. He’s shirtless, wide shoulders unblemished and you want nothing more than to mar the skin with signs of pleasure.

Your fingers lift to lightly trace along his right shoulder, but before you can touch him, his left hand grasps your fingers as he half turns to face you. You let out a small gasp in surprise—you didn’t think he would have heard you sneak up on him.

“Perhaps you should head to bed, Taelani, it was a long day.”

He barely looks at you as he speaks, and you feel yourself wilting. It’s fascinating, but deeply disturbing to you that it seems like he’s attracted to you but keeps turning you away. Everything you’ve been told about men is wrong. You want him to have his way with you, and he can’t be bothered to even stop drafting a letter to look at you for more than a second.

You feel yourself pouting, and it seems to work for a moment. Namjoon’s eyes soften, and he tugs you closer when you attempt to pull your hand out of his.

“I know this is not the most normal of situations, but I won’t stop you from seeking out your needs. You can take up with anyone as long as it is discreet, and any children you should bear will all be raised as if they are my own.” You freeze as he releases his hold on you and turns away, back to his missive.

You step away from him, trekking backward until the backs of your thighs touch the silk sheets on the bed. Embarrassment heats your neck and cheeks, because you do not understand why your husband turns away from you. It makes you feel…unwanted. Sitting down, you can only blink as you attempt to understand the man before you. But nothing thus far has made any sense.

🥀

The movement of the bed slowly wakes you, and you stretch your limbs out as your eyes blearily try to take in the low lighting in the room.

“...need the Huwon guards as soon as possible, I will meet them there.”

You stay still when you hear his voice, your brain instantly becoming more alert as you try to hear more of his request, but it only grows quiet again as the door shuts. You can barely hear his footfalls as he flits about the room, and you sneak a peek through cracked eyes as you keep your breathing level. He’s grabbing his upper garments and re-dressing, and in only a few more moments, he’s slipping out of the door.

You get up, immediately grabbing for your robes as you slip from the satin sheets to follow your new husband.

You stay as far back as you can, drifting between shadows as you make your way towards what you now know is the Huwon Secret Garden. While the garden grounds themselves take up a large expanse of the palace area, there is a beautiful and intimate pagoda of sorts that lies in the rear after crossing a small bridge with a tiny waterfall. You lose sight of Namjoon, but you know he must be headed there, so you continue on your way, avoiding the minimal guard presence.

Approaching the enclosed garden pergola, a gasping moan sounds and you quicken your steps, evermore the curious. Peering through one of the open slats of the enclosure, you see your king—your husband—with his arms wrapped around another woman. His mouth is to her neck as she straddles him, and though her face is hidden between the shadows and behind his bulky build, you know you heard the pleasure she felt. When he pulls back from her, you watch, entranced, as he laves his tongue along the skin he’s just marked. A burning jealousy shoots through your veins until a cloud moves out of the moonlight and a beam shines straight through.

Your eyes widen as they take in the elongated fangs, the blood dripping from the corners of his mouth, and the way the woman now lay limply in his arms. Spinning on your heel, you flee back to your room, praying that your pounding heart calms enough before he returns.

🥀🥀🥀Namjoon🥀🥀🥀

It’s almost debilitating to Namjoon having his new wife around him. It’s been only a week—one mere week of his eternal life—and you have made him into a ravenous, salacious blood fiend. This lust for the iron-smelling essence that runs through mortal veins, and one in particular more so than the others, means that he hasn’t been handling all of the new changes to his life well.

Going from the shadows and becoming the face of the nation he loves so much, that his whole family has given their lives for, is not exactly what he expected. He is much more used to using violence with his bare hands—and teeth—for their gain. Having to navigate politics with his wife’s father, Chief State Councillor Jeong Dojeon, is a whole new experience for him.

Not to mention that he’s insatiably drawn to his titillating wife, but knowing that her father is actively working against the reigning family has Namjoon’s guard up. The way she keeps trying to throw herself at him… Admittedly, he knows he’s spied on her letters and conversations, and she seems none the wiser to what her father is doing, but too much is at stake for him to risk it without knowing where she stands for sure.

Namjoon stretches his arms above his shirtless torso, then sets down the quill to mull over the letter he needs to finish and send to the front lines of their war efforts against the rival faction. They’ve quieted down some, ever since their attack on the true prince which led to an almost absolute destruction of said rival faction, but money will unite anyone against a common enemy if paid enough.

His ears perk up as he takes in the thrumming melody of your heartbeat as you move around the adjacent bathing room to your communal bedchamber. It’s late, much later than a person would typically bathe, and without the aid of maids, but he’s in no hurry to overwhelm his senses with you. He focuses on the sounds; of the water draining from the side of the palace, of the soft garments sliding along your skin as you dress, and he tenses—readying himself for your scent to overtake him as he turns and stands to face your re-entrance into the room.

Beautiful. Your large eyes are bright, warm even, and the way your body gracefully moves in that—he forcefully exhales as you approach him in an ornately sewn, semi-transparent lace robe. The vision of your full breasts with lace flowing over the peaks stuns him momentarily, and he allows himself a moment to drink you in. He’s so focused on trailing his eyes along the cupid’s bow of your full top lip that he doesn’t realize you’ve spoken to him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch what you said.”

“Oh,” you look down demurely, taking him by surprise. “My king, please. I would like just a moment of your time.”

“Of course,” Namjoon replies, but hesitates as he sits back down, unsure of what could have triggered such a formal conversation. Though, to be fair, he knows he hasn’t been the best conversationalist with his own wife.

He watches as you pull a small, stuffed stool closer to him and sit on it regally. The robe parts with the movement and he’s able to see that only a thin sliver of fabric covers your mound. Everything else is revealed to him. Your navel, your thighs, so much skin…

“I know that you’ve given me permission to seek out other men, but I—I don’t want that.”

Namjoon is still as he reigns in his impure thoughts and focuses all of his attention on you. “What is it that you want?”

“I want my husband. I–don’t you also feel—I just…” you sigh, and the weight of your next words would bring Namjoon to his knees had he not been sitting. “I know who you are. And I don’t care. I—”

Namjoon stands to his full height, eyes slightly narrowed at your small frame.

“You know who I am?” he questions with disdain. Of course, you were too good to be true and exactly what he expected of your father.

“Yes, you may be the king, but more than that, you’re my husband.”

Namjoon pauses, listening on, but can see how tense you remain to continue speaking. “And what exactly don’t you care about?” He questions.

“I don’t care that you’re a—a vampire,” you rush out and continue speaking. “So please, don’t hold yourself back from me, I don’t want you to seek out your pleasure from others in the castle when I’m right here.”

His brain reels with an overwhelming amount of thoughts as you look up at him from where you sit, shoulders tight and lifted towards your ears as your chest rises and falls rapidly with each breath you take as you wait for him to speak.

You know he’s a vampire. How, he isn’t sure, because he knows that your father is not aware of that fact. No, he only assumed that your father had figured out that he was not the true prince, and instead a cousin filling in for the role, and shared this information with you. Nope, you meant you knew that he was immortal and knew of his late-night proclivities. He slowly lowers himself into the chair he vacated, wholly unprepared when you throw yourself forward onto your knees before him.

“Please, I’m right here. I only want you to touch me. No one else.”

Unable to resist, Namjoon does touch you, reaching beneath your arms to lift you to him. Even while standing, your eyes are only a few inches above him as he sits, and you step between his parted legs when he gently tugs you further into his space.

“I didn’t realize that my words made you feel unwanted.” Namjoon speaks slowly as he gathers his thoughts to organize his words. “I’m unsure how you came about this information, but I.. th-there’s some things we should clear up.”

Your eyes appear to study him intently, brows inching closer as your face wrinkles with apprehension. The flooding of your veins as your heart rate increases leads Namjoon to pause and hold his breath before speaking.

“There is a reason that I have been so distant, and yet have only sought out to take one wife and no others. It came to my attention that your father has been one of the main financial supporters of a rival political party that supports more control from Chief Councilors and less from me. This money helped supply weapons and mercenaries, and there was an…attempt on my life recently. It was nearly successful at bringing down this clan’s reign and ending our family line.”

You gasp as he reveals this partial truth, and say, “I swear to you, my king, I knew not of such plans, I know my father has ambitions and a dislike for the lack of his power due to the crown, but not that he would steep to such levels for gain.” Namjoon can feel the way your pulse reacts as he holds your wrists in his large hands. You truly were not aware, and this knowledge helps quell any lingering doubts he has about sharing more information with you.

“I believe that you had no knowledge of his plans or his financial support. But, because of that event, it is what led me to say yes to you as my concubine. You see, I felt that by having his daughter in the palace and by my side, that he would pull back his support of any rivals, and even decide to stop pushing for less control, especially since any heir would be his own grandchild to be on the throne.” Namjoon knows this last part is a lie, since he could not provide you with any children and the plan that is in place would not allow any child of yours to be on the throne, but he can’t tell you that.

You nod, eyes rapt with attention as they pour over his face, gleaning any additional information you can.

“My king, I do not support my father in his ventures. I promise you, I…he has never been much of a father to me. More like a tyrant or like…like he believes that my life does not matter more than what I am able to provide for him. You have saved me from him in so many ways, and I just want to show you my gratitude. I want you to feel my appreciation.”

Your tone holds not an ounce of seductive undertones as you continue, “I care not that you are a vampire, I—” he allows you to pull free from his hold, turning your hands so that your palms lay on the outsides of his and you guide them carefully through the opening of your robes to your bare bosom, cupping his hands around your full chest. “I ache for you, Namjoon. I have never felt such a desire before, have never sought out the affections of a man. In truth, I’m terrified, but not because of what you are, but because I have never crossed this line before.”

And Namjoon, still a man with carnal desires despite his blood lust, wants to be the one you cross that line with. He can feel the weight of your breasts as you move closer, stepping in such a way so that you can straddle him—which you do moments later. He feels his hands tighten around your chest without your fingers leading the motion, and the tiny, breathy moan that you release brushes against his lips from your proximity.

He’s hardening, lengthening; his cock pressing against your clothed heat and his fangs inching from his parted lips, both aching to open you up for him. And just as the circling press of your pert nipples to the pads of his thumbs begins, you cover his mouth with yours, moaning for his ears only as you lean into his touch at all junctions where your body touches his.

It’s intoxicating; your scent wraps around him and the feel of your blood thrumming within your body as you tremble from the pure lust that seems to ooze from your pores as you, you! devour his lips with no care of his fangs. Your tongue is tentative, but curious—seeking to glide along his and taste all of him.

When you pull back, he presumes to breathe since he need not this human action, his fang nicks your tongue on retreat. That one drop makes his muscles spasm—you pull back from him faster as his touch turns painful for a moment and then you are flying, landing on the bed in a frenzy and in a blink Namjoon is pressed to the wall farthest from you, his fists clenched tightly as he holds himself back from you.

“There is…still much you need…to know and understand.” Namjoon strains to get the words out, actively fighting his thirst for his wife—for you—whose blood has never been tasted by another, and whose tight cunt has never been taken by another. “Please, walk slowly to the door and get the Huwon guards…”

“No, please, Namjoon, I want—”

“Now!” he roars, watching fear filter into your eyes as you spring from the bed and rush towards the door. With a speed rivaling light, he is in front of you before you can make it three steps from the bed. His predator instinct couldn’t allow you to leave the room now. Grasping you under your thighs, he lifts you effortlessly, drawing his nose along your neckline.

Instantly, your fear melts away from your body, leaving you boneless as he deposits you forcefully to the bed you just vacated.

“You will take me, and I will drink from you, and then, I will tell you everything, but I can’t…can’t let you go. I must have you.”

🥀🥀🥀Taelani🥀🥀🥀

The gentle husband whom you had straddled mere moments before, who had kissed you with a softness that you have never known, was no longer the man above you. Instead, a predator climbs onto the covers as you scramble backwards, but his hand grips your wrist and slides you along the silk sheets back underneath his body.

His hands box in your head, with his knees bracing either side of your hips. Your heart is pounding, and you freeze beneath him, finally understanding why he said to walk slowly.

“Grandfather, what do I do if I encounter a bear or something of the like in the forest?” Five-year-old Taelani asks as she walks along her family grounds with her maternal grandpa.

“My dear Taelani, you must never run if you encounter a large animal. Predators are wired to chase after prey. Be steadfast, like a deer or a hare. Freeze and watch first. They may not mean you any harm, but if you should run, they cannot stop themselves.”

Going stockstill seems to work, just as you remembered learning about as a child. Namjoon mimics this, freezing his own body and his dilated eyes close as he leans closer into you and…inhales.

“I’m sorry, but I—I need to feed.” His voice is tense, a quiet murmur that fills the silence.

“It’s okay, I’m right here,” you say, proffering your own neck. “I know you won’t hurt me.”

“This is not—I wanted this to be different, I don’t want to hurt you. You deserve—”

“—a husband who will make love to me, and feed from only me. Because I am yours, and you are mine.”

His eyes open with a blazing, hungry stare and before you can do anything else, he descends on your lips with a fierceness. His hands move from the sheets to your robe, ripping it open to expose your dusky nipples to the chilled air. He grips the hem of the clothing preventing you from full nudity and all but destroys it as he pulls it from your body in a feral show of strength.

“Mine.” His words are a low growl before his mouth is once again on yours, this time his hands now free to roam your body without clothing to hinder him. His deft hands move in symmetry to cup your breasts, giving them a supple squeeze before drifting down your hips and he moves his body lower along yours so he can hook his arms around the backs of your thighs.

The silks beneath you allow him to easily slip between your skin and the satin, giving him the right angle to push your legs up and bare all to him. You shiver in anticipation, feeling how wet you are by the air now meeting the heat between your thighs. You want him. The throbbing of your clit makes you want to clench your thighs together for some relief, but the way he’s holding you won’t allow it.

His kisses trail lower, mouth hovering over your nipple until his lengthened teeth graze the sensitive skin. Arching your back, he takes this as a sign to suck the peak into his mouth, tongue swirling as you moan. He switches sides, treating them equally before continuing lower, tongue dancing across your navel. The caress of the wet muscle has your body jumping with desire.

“Oh!” You can hardly keep quiet when his tongue tastes you, laving flat across your open warmth before making short, quick passes along your clit. Your hands grip the sheets in desperation—for him to stop, for him to continue—the pleasure is overwhelming.

“You taste…divine,” his voice rumbles, and you try to keep your eyes on him but squeeze them shut when his mouth returns to devour you. Sensual, plump lips kissing you, sucking you, tongue fucking you—you writhe beneath him. His hands press you wider, keeping you open as your muscles fight against the pleasure and threaten to close around his head.

And he doesn’t stop. Not until you're dripping, and the lower half of his face is glistening with you. You barely register his movements, can barely tell that he’s naked and climbing above you until he’s suddenly in your eyeline. Floating…that’s what this feeling is, like floating on a cloud, carefree. And when the blunted tip of his cock nudges at your still quivering heat, you widen your legs and welcome him, urging him to fill you.

And, oh! You don’t expect the pressure to build as he thrusts within you, and you cry out in pain, in pleasure, in ecstasy at the fullness he brings as your walls quiver around him.

Your hands tighten on his shoulders as he begins to move with more gusto, continuing to keen at the feeling—all of the feelings—and slowly the pain lessens and he glides with less stilted motion, bottoming out again and again and again.

A rhythmic chanting sounds, and it takes a few moments for you to recognize your own voice, so laced with desire and lust, pleading for him. “Please, gods, don’t stop, please!” along with a guttural reply, “I won’t,” filling the bed chamber that surely the others in the palace must be awake and able to hear. Namjoon appeases your request and his hips continue to piston fluidly, his strong thighs creating a cacophony of sounds as they meet the backs of yours.

An inhale, sharp and stilting—a grunt, with hips stuttering—his fangs piercing the tender skin at the crook of your neck as you feel the blood weeping from your vein as he drinks deeply of you. And you shatter from the ecstasy, like a fallen vase of porcelain, pieces scattering like twinkling stars across the galaxy in a vibrant bursting of flames.

🥀

“I am…older than I look.” You lay with your head upon Namjoon’s chest, fingers dancing along the smooth, glistening skin of his chest. His voice reverberates in your head as his low timbre continues. “And I am not truly the Queen Mother’s son, but her relative.”

You tilt your head to look up at him.

“I died a little over 50 years ago. Many of my family within these walls are like me. Forever frozen in time. When my father was just a boy in 1390, his uncles and aunts all fell ill of the fever. One by one, they passed away, and his father, fearing death, sought out the answer to life. When all was said and done, the only one to survive the fever was my grandfather’s youngest brother. In order to secure his place on the throne, stories spread that the youngest son killed all of his older siblings for power. In reality, my grandfather helped spread this and protected him all the while from assassination attempts.”

Looking with wide eyes at him, you almost can’t believe that what he says is true. Almost.

“This became our family’s mission. To protect the youngest sibling's line. For all of the children born to the older siblings who did not pass from the fever, upon approaching their 30th year and after having a family if they so wished, would endure the change and live forever. We have grown in our numbers and have always worked to protect the one line that history can know about. The Queen Mother’s great-grandfather is that youngest sibling. Merely days before I took the throne, her son, the true heir, was murdered.”

With a gasp, you sit up, clutching the satin sheets to your naked breasts.

“In order to hide that this attempt was successful, I stepped into his place and took the throne. And the Queen Mother will have another child, one who we will raise as our own and be the next successor, rightfully restoring the line to power once more.”

“I have so many questions, I can’t even begin to list them!” you pout, stifling a yawn at the late hour. You understand that you will have to raise the Queen Mother’s son as your own child so that the correct lineage remains on the throne, but what of your own children?

“We have plenty of time for your questions, my love. Maybe I shall answer some of them as I tell you more?”

As Namjoon continues to regale you with his tale, spelling out exactly how your lives will be, you settle back into his body and listen intently to his deep tenor rumbling against your cheek, curling your naked body around his own, until you fall asleep.

🥀🥀🥀

Epilogue

Eighteen years have passed since Taelani first entered the palace as Namjoon’s concubine.

Eighteen years since you learned the truth about your husband and his family, and full of questions and curious for more information, had kept him up the following nights with all of your thoughts until he lay you down and forced you quiet with his lips on yours and his hands seeking other truths between your legs.

Now, you are a mother to twins—at least, as far as the kingdom was concerned. Your daughter, Seojin, is truly yours and Namjoon’s, a miracle that even Namjoon’s family had not anticipated. Due to most everyone else in his family waiting until they had chosen a mate and had kids to turn, this was an unprecedented event. And Seojin’s twin brother, Jiho—though not truly siblings—but instead cousins, is the answer to keeping the family line on the throne.

Queen Mother Sindeok had hidden away, where she bore a son and then quietly returned to the palace with you and Namjoon, cradling a secret that only your family knew. A secret that she bundled tightly for the trip back and handed into your arms a mere day before your Seojin was born.

By royal decree, the news of the double royal birth spread across the lands, and in short, the Queen Mother’s pregnancy had never happened. Instead, Taelani, beloved Queen Consort to King Namjoon, had given birth to twins—a boy and a girl, heirs to a prosperous future. Together, the twins' birth was celebrated by the populace and secured the power that Namjoon’s grandfather had cultivated over the years, maintaining their hold of the throne their line refused to give up.

The birth of your twins also made sure that your father no longer tried to challenge the current rulers for power over the people. The Chief Councilor must have immediately withdrawn his money and support of the rival factions, as their attacks and their false propaganda dwindled to almost nonexistence.

With the belief that his grandson would take the throne, as the twin who was born minutes before his sister, your father seemed to think better of his past alliances, and instead made to be a better grandfather to them than he was a father to you, in the hopes that his name would be next to theirs in historical records as a formative familial link to the throne.

You still watched over his actions, even now, knowing that he may no longer hunger for the death of the emperor, but that his gusto for power and manipulation was never far from the surface. You and Namjoon had raised your children well though, teaching them to think for themselves and avoid manipulation tactics from even the most persuasive of grandparents.

At eighteen, Seojin showed no outward signs of her father’s affliction, but for a glint in her eyes that she could do more, hear more, see more, smell more—than her human counterparts. Her brother Jiho was smart, empathetic, and set to be a great ruler, carrying on the legacy his forefathers set before him.

It may have been a little over a decade since you joined your husband in an everlasting life, but you have never regretted that decision, not even for a moment. Standing next to him as he pens his speech for Jiho’s coronation, you absentmindedly run your fingers through his hair as you stare out at the full moon, large against the backdrop of the stars and dark clouds.

“My love, come to bed,” you suggest, wanting to lay with him, to embrace him, to love him.

“One more line and I’ll join you,” he promises with a smirk. He still looks the same, jovial eyes crescenting as his lips quirk up at you. “Strip, and I’ll make sure to keep you warm.”

His lustful gaze watches as you step backwards towards the bed, eyes staying on his face.

A few moments later, he replaces his quill and caps the ink, fingers tugging at his pants to loosen them from his waist. Your giggles carry with the evening breeze as it whistles quietly through the slats in the window, rustling the parchment Namjoon was writing on and drying the last lines he had written.

“And for our country, with Yi Jiho as emperor, this nation will finally have all we have fought for: strength, power, and a promising future.”

And for you and Namjoon, your sacrifices eighteen years ago continue the legacy of a kingdom destined to be ruled by a lineage of

eternal reign.

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