#flowers and fountains au

[minty-mumbles]

Meeting Family

Summary: The chain visits one of the fairy fountains while in Wild's era, and Hyrule gets to meet some distant family.

Author’s Note: @transzeldas you said you wanted more fairy family content so here you go :) Thank you @m1kayu for beta reading for me

This is set in my Flowers and Fountains AU | Read on AO3

~~~

Hyrule stared up in awe at the Great Mother. He was tucked into the wall of a rocky clearing in Wild’s era. The Great Mother- introduced to them by Wild as Kaysa- was relaxed, lounging against the edge of her Fountain as she talked to Wild. 

He hadn’t approached her yet, although he wanted to. When Wild had made the introductions, giving the Mother the names of all the heroes, and giving them her name in return, Hyrule had stayed in the back, partially hidden behind Twilight’s bulky frame. The rancher had shot him an odd look but hadn't asked any questions, which Hyrule was gratefully for. Twilight was good at minding his own business.

Hyrule had so many questions he wanted to ask Kaysa, but now wasn’t the time. He could tell his curiosity wasn’t unrequited. She’d glanced curiously at him several times but respected the distance he’s placed between them, and focused on the Champion instead. Hyrule knew if he approached her now, she might say something that would hint at secrets he wasn’t ready to tell. He’d have to wait until everyone had gone to sleep to approach. 

In the meantime, he tucked himself into an out-of-the-way place, and waited for night to fall. 

The other heroes had spread out through the clearing, getting ready to rest for the night. Wild and Time were engrossed in conversation with Kaysa, trying to gather information about any unusual occurrences in Wild’s era. Wind was tucked into Sky’s side, watching the older hero carve a small wooden statue. The sailor’s eyes were already drooping, lulled to rest by Sky’s hypnotic repetitive actions. Warriors, who had taken the middle shift last night, was already laying out his bedroll, likely planning to go right to sleep. Legend sat nearby, ignoring everyone and running a whetstone over his blade. Four was nowhere to be seen, though no one seemed worried about it. 

The smith, much like many in their group, had a habit of wandering off for a while, when seeking time alone. He never looked any worse for wear when he returned, actually often looking a great deal happier. Hyrule didn’t know what Four did when he disappeared but it really wasn’t any of his business. He would be a hypocrite if he worried too much about it. He himself wandered all too often, after all.

Besides, Wild had assured them that the Fairy Fountains were some of the safest places in his era. It would be impossible for monsters to get up on this mini plateau without making a great deal of noise, and even if they did, Kaysa would notice and alert them. There would be no need to set a watch tonight, and wherever Four had wandered off to, he would be safe. 

Hyrule sighed lightly. Legend looked up with an expectant eyebrow, thinking he had something to say. Hyrule just shook his head, and the veteran shrugged, turning back to his sword. Likewise, Hyrule turned back to his own contemplation. He stretched out, reclining on a flat rock behind him and closing his eyes. The sun was slowly setting but even as the shadows crept into the clearing the rocks remained pleasantly warm against his skin. 

Slowly, Hyrule centered himself in the present, pushing away his thoughts and worries, and focusing on the physical feelings of being in the clearing. He let the warmth of the rock soak into his muscles. Dusty sand shifted under his fingers when he dragged them against the surface of the rock he lay against. A lazy breeze brushed against his face, carrying the scent of the oil Legend was using to polish his sword to Hyrule’s nose. Underneath that, the smell of the flowers that grew in the clearing permeated the air- a type of thistle, Hyrule thought, although he didn’t recognize the exact variety. 

Further away, Hyrule could hear the comforting tones of the Great Mother’s voice, interspersed with Time’s low rumble and Wild’s questions. He didn’t bother trying to pick out the words spoken, instead letting the sounds wash over him. He could hear the scrape, scrape, scrape of Sky’s knife against the wood, along with deep even breathing from Wind, who must have fallen asleep. 

Once his mind was focused solely on the sensations of his surroundings, he let it all fall away. His attention turned to what he could sense with his magic instead. It was harder to delve into his magical senses while he was in hylian form. In his fairy form, it was natural and automatic to reach out with his magic and sense things around him. As he was now, it took more concentration. 

Carefully, he let his magic unfold. It danced curiously around him, reaching out instinctively to investigate the unfamiliar feeling of this era. The first thing he noticed about the ambient magic of this era was that it was bright. It wasn’t any more powerful than the magic from his own time but it was much more concentrated. In his era, the magic was old. It seeped into the ground, the water, the air, and permeated the entire world with magical energy. 

Here, the magic swirled in the air, concentrating in certain places. Some things were magical, with power pooling inside of them, while others had no magic at all.  Hyrule had thought that his era came before the Champion’s, but it seemed as if the magic here was younger. “Younger” was the best way Hyrule could think of to describe it.

He could feel Kaysa’s magic as well. She was the largest magical presence in the area, almost overwhelming everything else. Her magic sparked on Hyrule’s tongue, sharp pops of lightning dancing along his nerves, followed by the soothing taste of sweet floral tea laying heavy on his tongue. 

Kaysa’s magic was bright, and heavy, and young, just like the magic of her era. Despite her great age in comparison to a hylian’s lifespans, Kaysa was so very young in comparison to the Great Mothers of Hyrule’s time.

Tiny glowing dots of pink and blue flickered about the clearing. Those were the little fairies. Some danced around the flowers in the clearing, while others burrowed into their Mother’s hair. There were several fairies hovering around one of the other heroes. When Hyrule focused on who they were flocking around, he could feel the honey-sweet forest magic that perpetually hung around Time. He couldn't blame the fairies for being attracted to the magic. Time’s magic was intriguing even in Hyrule’s hylian form. When he was in fairy form, he could forget himself and find himself drifting closer to the sweet magic. 

Thankfully, the only time he ever took up his other form around the others was when they were asleep. So if he found himself floating closer to the old man without realizing it, no one was awake to see his glow turn a flustered pink around the edges in embarrassment. 

“Sister! Sister!” The strangely accented, high-pitched voice startled Hyrule out of his meditation. His eyes snapped open, his magic withdrawing into himself in an instant. His mind snapped back into his body, physical sensations flooding back to him. The sensation shocked him for a moment as he adjusted. The clearing had changed since he went under. It was much darker now, and the warmth had nearly completely leached out of the rocks. It was quieter, also.

He sat up with a groan, his muscles protesting. A blanket that hadn’t been there before pooled around his waist. Hyrule recognized it as Four’s. The smith must have returned at some point, and draped a blanket over Hyrule, thinking he was asleep. 

He looked around, finding almost all of the others were asleep. Legend had fallen asleep hugging his sword- sheathed, thankfully- which Hyrule stifled a snicker at. Four had stretched out next to where Sky and Wind had fallen asleep in a pile, and was using Sky’s sailcloth to replace the blanket he’d given Hyrule. Wild had laid out his bedroll next to Warriors, and Wolfie was stretched out over the pair’s feet. 

The only one who was still awake was Time. He sat next to Sky, Wind, and Four’s puppy pile. Hyrule felt a swell of affection to see Time was humoring the fairies that curiously flocked to him, letting them inspect his hair and admire themselves in the reflection of the armor he was polishing.

His attention was abruptly drawn away from Time when he again heard what had awoken him. “Sorry! Sorry!” One of the little fairies chimed, hovering in front of his face. This one was a pastel purple color, which was slightly unusual. Pink and Blue were more common. Her accent was very strange, with a lilt to her words that the fairies in his era didn't have. None of the fairies here seemed to have a problem with speaking loudly, either. Fairies in his era would speak softly in fear of discovery by monsters, but those that lived here didn’t seem to have that problem. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your meditation!” She continued.

Another fairy tugged demandingly on his hair. “Why did you stop?” 

“We want to feel your magic, sister!” 

“Why did you hide it away again?” 

Hyrule grinned at the excitement from his little sisters but made sure to keep his voice low in courtesy to the other heroes who were sleeping. “Sorry. It’s hard to reach out like that in this form.” He held up a hand, and the purple fairy quickly claimed the perch his fingers offered. 

Then came the demand he knew would come. “Then change your form!” 

“Fly with us!” They made it sound like such a simple thing to do. 

“Girls! Let him be.” A much louder voice echoed through the clearing, causing many of the little fairies to lift off him, fluttering away at the order of their Mother. Only the one that perched on his finger stubbornly stayed. Hyrule habitually winced at the familiar reprimanding tone, even though he knew it wasn’t aimed at him.

He would have worried about the volume rousing the heroes who were asleep, but he knew it wouldn’t. The language of the fairies was mostly lost on hylians. Hyrule didn’t know if the sounds were simply too high pitched for hylian ears to even pick up on, or if some type of magic kept it from being understood. Either way, the only thing hylians could usually pick up from the fairy’s language was a pretty chiming sound. Hyrule had always been able to hear it though, even in his hylian form. A perk of his heritage, he supposed. 

The Great Mother’s voice finally drew his attention away from the little fairies towards the center of the clearing, where the Fountain lay. Although most of the other heroes were asleep, Kaysa was still leaning casually on the edge of her fountain. She had eyes only for him, now. When she saw him looking at her, she smiled kindly. 

“Will you come speak to me now?” She called out. Hyrule glanced around. The rest of the heroes remained asleep, and Time remained focused on his armor. The chimes of her voice blended in the background noise of the clearing, and as long as he spoke quietly, no one should notice him talking with the Great Mother. 

He slowly stood, stretching out his stiff leg muscles. He carefully picked his way across the clearing. When he finally stood in front of her, she leaned down, inspecting him closely. “Hello, little cousin! Oh, aren't you special?” Kaysa stretched out a hand, parallel to the ground. Used to this gesture from other Great Mothers he had come across in his time, Hyrule sat in the palm of her hand, letting her lift him to be level with her face. As he was lifted, the purple fairy perched on his hand fluttered off, letting him place his hands down on Kaysa’s palm to steady himself. 

As Kaysa inspected Hyrule with her eyes, Hyrule could feel her magic reach out to encircle him. She had respectfully kept from inspecting him before, but she didn’t hold back now.

The feeling of the Great Mother’s magic enveloping him was impossible to miss, even if he wasn’t usually able to sense magic without meditation in his hylian form. Even those who had no magical abilities, such as Wild or Warriors, would be able to sense it. The feeling of a Great Mother’s attention focused solely on him nearly blinded him for a moment before Kaysa pulled her magic away. “A bit too much when you're in that form, is it?” She said with a guilty smile. 

Hyrule only smiled back at her. He couldn't stretch out his magic in quite the way needed to respond to her greeting while he was in this form, so he gave her a little wave in greeting. That made her coo at him. “So cute, little cousin! I haven’t seen one like you in many, many years.” Hyrule’s ears flushed bright red at the compliment, drawing a giggle from Kaysa. 

“Why do you not take your other form? Is it not polite to greet me with a form in which you can speak my language?” 

Hyrule squeaked. “I meant no offense!” He hurried to assure her, eyes widening at the thought he might have upset one of the Great Mothers, even a young one such as Kaysa. But she only laughed, waving her other hand dismissively. 

“I only jest! But in all seriousness, why do you not shift?” 

Hyrule relaxed at her laughter, but tensed up again at the thought of shifting right now. He couldn't do it now, not with the feeling of a single curious eye burning into his back. ”I can’t right now. They don’t know-” He cut himself off. He wasn’t the only one awake right now, and while Time couldn’t understand Kaysa’s speech, he could understand Hyrule’s. He would have to watch what he said. “They… don’t know.”

Kaysa frowned. Hyrule squirmed unhappily, patting Kaysa’s palm reassuringly. He hated seeing any of the Great Mothers upset. “Why not? Is it not a great gift?” 

Hyrule smiled ruefully at that. “It is. Hylians can react strangely to things like that.” Kaysa’s gaze flickered over to where Twilight was sleeping in wolf form. He’d shifted from where he'd been laid over Wild and Warriors’ feet to nearly smothering Warriors in his sleep. 

Kaysa turned her eyes back to Hyrule. “You are not the only one who holds a transformation ability in this group.” Hyrule shrugged. 

She wasn’t wrong. In the end, no one had seemed to mind that Twilight could turn into a wolf, but it hadn’t always been like that. He remembered Four’s distrust of Twilight’s transformation magic. He remembered how weirdly Wind had acted around Twilight after Wolfie had been revealed, and the fun Warriors made of Twilight's abilities. They didn’t act that way anymore, but the memories of when they did and Hyrule’s own previous experience from his own era made him wary of sharing what he was with the other heroes. 

Kaysa hummed, eyeing him consideringly. Eventually, she smiled gently, lifting her other hand carefully to brush away his curly bangs from his eyes. “Will you come fly with my daughters after the Hero of Time goes to sleep?” Hyrule nodded at her eagerly. It had been so long since he had had the time to fly with other fairies. Kaysa smiled, then gently set him back down. 

The moment Hyrule had settled firmly on the ground again, the fairies flocked back around him. This time, Kaysa allowed them to investigate him as much as they liked.

Hyrule sank to the ground, letting his little sisters climb on him. They chirped at him, vocalizing wordlessly to show their excitement and happiness. The same purple-colored fairy from before fluttered up to his hand, settling down on it once again. Another one of them climbed under the collar of Hyrule’s tunic, and he giggled at the ticklish feeling of her wings fluttering against his shoulder.

“Traveler?” Hyrule was startled at the sound of Hylian speech. He’d forgotten for a moment that he wasn’t the only one awake. Twisting around, he gazed up at Time. The old man had stood from where he had finished his armor upkeep.

Time only smiled gently. “No need to look so startled. I only wanted to let you know I’m going to head to bed. Don’t stay up too late.” Hyrule didn’t like the knowing gleam in the old man’s eye. He was suddenly reminded of the incident weeks ago, when Hyrule had almost been caught by Time in his fairy form. Since then, Hyrule had been very careful around Time when he shifted into his other form, even though he only did that when everyone was asleep.

Time hadn’t acted any differently around Hyrule afterwards. He hadn’t paid any more attention to Hyrule after the incident than he had before. So Hyrule had tentatively let himself hope that Time didn't realize the green fairy he’d seen that night had been Hyrule.

Now though, Time’s gaze was knowing in a way that made Hyrule squirm. 

He stared at Time wondering if the old man was going to say something about it for so long that Time raised an eyebrow at him. Hyrule blinked. “Oh, right! Um, good night, Time.” He turned back around, hunching over the fairies in his hands until he heard Time set up his bedroll and settle down into it. Only then did he relax.

He shuddered. Did Time know? Was he just pretending that he hadn’t seen Hyrule? If so, why? Was Hyrule just overthinking things? Uggh…. This is why Hyrule liked to travel alone. He didn’t understand hylians. Fairies were much more blunt. They spoke their mind, and did so without reserve. Even the Great Mothers were blunt with their speech. They had no patience with minced words and dancing around the point.

Hyrule wished he could do that as well. Things would probably be easier for him if he could unabashedly speak his mind. It was his hylian blood that made him watch his words so carefully. He’d met plenty of shy fairies in the past, but none of them had ever been timid with what they said like he was.

“Sister, sister!” For the second time that night, the purple fairy drew his attention away from his inner thoughts. “The hylian heroes are all asleep now! Come fly with us! Come on, come on!” 

Hyrule looked around, carefully eyeing each of the other heroes. None of them so much as twitched, except for Wild, who only cuddled further into Wolfie’s fur. Time seemed to have fallen asleep quickly with an arm thrown over his eyes to block out the light of the Fountain. 

Hyrule normally left wherever they happened to be camping for the night if he wanted to shift into his other form. If he didn’t, he ran the risk of waking someone up with the light the transformation generated, or someone not actually being asleep and seeing him transform.

Now though, he could see everyone clearly in the light from the fountain, and they all looked sound asleep. That same light would help camouflage his transformation. It would only take a second and then he would just be another fairy in the crowd. He shrugged. Once couldn’t hurt, right?

He relaxed, letting his magic surge up around him and change his shape into his other form. After a few moments, all that was left was a fairy. He’s green, and a little bigger than normal, but unremarkable besides that, hard to pick out in the throng. 

His sisters flocked around him, greeting him eagerly with kisses on the cheek and enthusiastic hugs. Tiny pinpricks of energy danced along his skin as those who couldn’t get close enough to hug reached out with their magic to greet him. A second warning call from Kaysa made them back off, and he had a moment to readjust to the world.

The night air seemed so much more alive than before. When he had been hylian, the night had seemed stagnant, lit up only by the light of the Fountain, and the faint stars above. Now he was fully connected with the magic of the world, in a way hylians could never be. Once again he could sense all the magic he’d sensed when he had been meditating, but now it was without effort or without sacrificing his other senses. It came to him as easily as breathing. 

The night seemed so much more colorful. He could actually see Kaysa’s magic, not just sense it. It danced in the air and snaked towards him as she reached out, once again greeting him. Now, her magic wasn't overwhelming, but warm and welcoming, and it was only natural to reach out with his own to greet her magically, and physically as he fluttered over to her. 

She offered a hand for him to perch on, which he took. He was quickly joined by many of his sisters. They were so much smaller than the Great Mother, all of the fairies in the clearing could have sat on her hand with room to spare. The one who sat nearest to him was once agona the lavender fairy

She grinned at him, bearing the sharp teeth that all fairies had. (Fairies, Hyrule knew from experience, could have a very mean bite.) Now that he wasn’t in his hylian form, it was much easier to see her. He wasn’t blinded by her glow anymore, and could easily make out her form. She had seemed small when he was in a Hylian form, and that hadn’t changed. She was nearly a head and a half shorter than him, but that didn’t deter her from meeting his gaze head on with intense purple eyes. She had short black curls, and wore a short and fluffy off-white gown, a blue ribbon tied around her waist.

“Hello! What are you called?” The chime was missing from her voice now, though she still had that strange lilting accent that seemed to be standard for fairies of this era. 

“Hi!” Hyrule grins back. “I’m called Hyrule. What about you?” 

She shrugged, reaching out and tugging experimentally on his tunic, which was the same as his normal one, but shrunk to fit his current body. “I’m still new. I don’t have one yet!” She seemed unbothered by this fact. “I like your clothes. They’re very strange!” 

Kaysa spoke up then. “I haven't found a name I like for her yet. She’s a special little one, she needs a perfect name, and I haven't found just the right one yet.” Hyrule could sense Kaysa’s obvious favoritism, but didn’t point it out. It didn’t mean they loved the rest of their children any less, but the Great Mothers often have favorites. 

“Oh, Oh!” She exclaimed. “You’ve been traveling around a lot, right? You must know some interesting names then! Can you give me one?” Hyrule blinked. Names held power, and for this fairy to freely ask him to name her… 

He choked up a bit but was finally able to get out, “Only if your Mother allows it.”

Kaysa hummed, obviously amused with the purple fairy’s antics, but humoring her. “You can suggest a name, if you’d like, and I’ll decide if I approve.” 

Hyrule froze, now suddenly pinned under the purple fairy’s expectant stare. His brain froze for a moment, put on the spot as he desperately told himself not to blurt out the first name of that cake to mind. “Um-”

“Take your time,” Kaysa cooed, “Names are very important. Try and pick a good one.” They both seemed content to wait while he thought. The first thought that came to mind was Purple, as he’d been referring to her as ‘the purple fairy’ since he’d first seen her. She was indeed purple, but he couldn’t name her that! Lavender, Lilac, and Amethyst all came to mind as options, but she had specifically requested an exotic name, and he knew both of those flowers and that kind of gem existed in this era. 

As he thought, the glimmer of the unnamed fairy’s wings caught his eye. They were purple, but the veins running through them were a shining gold color. The color combination reminded him of another purple flower from his era that he hadn't seen growing here: the Iris. 

Hyrule knew the names of most of the plants that grew in his era. It was a part of being a survivalist. Normally, though, he didn’t pay much attention to flowers that didn’t have medicinal uses. Irises were one such plant. The only use for it Hyrule had ever heard of was inducing vomiting if you had accidentally injected poison, but other plants could get you the same result easier. It was more of a last-ditch opinion if there was nothing else you could use.

However, Irises were Dawn’s favorite flower. The royal gardens in his era weren’t the most impressive he had seen. The gardens- gardens! more than one!- in Warriors’ era were amazing, so big he could nearly get lost in them. In comparison, his princesses’ small garden seemed rather sparse, but when Irises came into season it turned into a riot of blues, purples, pinks, and golds. He always made a point to try and visit the castle at that time. 

Not only that, but both Princesses favored a type of perfume made from the ground-up petals. The scent of the beautiful plant had become a comfort to him since his adventures had ended. The scent meant safety and friends. Mrs. Malon had a few of the plants blooming in front of her house when they had last visited Lon Lon Ranch, and Hyrule had spent a good amount of time sitting out on the front porch and enjoying them. 

He finally spoke. “How about Iris?”

“What’s that mean?” The purple fairy asked curiously. 

“It’s a kind of flower that grows where I come from. I haven’t seen any since I’ve come here though.”

“What’s it look like?” Hyrule, used to the constant curious barrage of questions from the fairies of his own era, wasn’t the slightest bit fazed by her constant inquiries. 

“They’re normally a deep purple color with white around the middle, but they can come in yellow, blue, and pink as well. They smell amazing, and hylians even grind them up sometimes to put into perfumes.”

The small fairy hummed. “Well, I like it. What about you, Mother?”

“Iris…” The syllables were carefully sounded out as Kaysa closed her eyes, considering the name. Hyrule waited nervously for her judgment. When she opened her eyes, she smiled at him. 

“It’s an excellent name, little cousin.”

The fairy sitting next to him rocked eagerly at her approval. “Can I have it then, Mother? I love it! Please, please, please? She was so kind to give it to me, please can I have it?” Hyrule could tell Kaysa was going to give in before she did, and wasn’t surprised when she nodded indulgently at the little fairy. 

The newly christened Iris squealed. She fluttered up off her Mother’s hand and flew a loop around her head in excitement. When Iris landed on Kaysa’s hand again she was breathless and seemed to glow just that little bit brighter in pride. A pink fairy who’d been sitting on Kaysa’s shoulder and watching the whole affair huffed. “I want a name from her too! It’s not fair that she only gave one to Iris.”

“You already have a name, Sana, and it’s a perfectly fine one.” Kaysa chided. Sana huffed but was quickly distracted from her irritation, and flew off into the flock of fairies dancing in the air.

Iris laughed at Sana, taking off from her Mother's hand and tugging Hyrule to come along with her. “Come on, I want to tell everyone I��ve got a name now!” 

Hyrule thought for a moment. There was no need for him to go check on the other heroes like he usually did. The other fairies had taken care of all scrapes and bumps the other heroes had carried when the group had first entered the clearing, and the ambient magic from the fountain managed to soothe away any bad memories or troubled sleep. All of them were sleeping soundly. 

Happily, he relented, letting Iris grab his hand and pull him into the air.

~~~ 

“Where’d Hyrule go?” The sound of his name slowly drew Hyrule out of his deep, comforting sleep. He stretched, and took a moment to process that he was still in his fairy form. He was resting in the middle of one of the flowers that grew close to the side of the fairy fountain. The flower was bathed in the warm magic that radiated from the Fountain and the Great Mother who inhabited it, making it a perfect spot to nap.

“He can’t have gone far, I’m sure he’ll return soon.” Time’s voice rang out through the clearing, causing Hyrule to sigh lightly and pull himself up to a seated position. As much as he would like to slip back into sweet sleep, he had to leave before he worried the others.  

Iris was curled up next to him, still sleeping soundly. He let her be, leaving her to her rest as he carefully stepped out onto one of the flower petals. He shook out his wings, stretching out their muscles. After a moment, he took off, wings beating lazily.

It would be better to slip out of the clearing unnoticed now, and change back before the other heroes became too worried about where he had gone.

As he fluttered out of the clearing, he didn’t notice the single eye tracking his path out of the clearing, and he missed the small smile that crossed Time’s face.

[myokk]

He is so enamored with her🥹🫶

(a continuation of regency period au💓)

[frodothefair]

Someday I will write a drabble about Sam meeting his baby niece Galadriel Baggins for the first time. Because the idea of the two of the most important people in Sam’s life not only getting together despite their individual hardships but also making a new life is just… ugh, beyond words for him.

[written-in-flowers]

His Goddess: Demon!Yunho x Fem!Reader

Pairing: incubus!yunho x fem!succubus!reader x incubus!hongjoong | side pairings: demonline x reader

Genre: Smut, fluff

Word Count: 10k

Summary: Yunho is a man of strong will and principles. Work comes first. Schedules come first. Yet, when it comes to The Mistress, he is willing to throw it all away to worship and pleasure her.

Tags: demon au, master/slave dynamic, mutual pining, body worship, facesitting, bigdick!yunho, switch!yunho, footjob, voyeurism, exhibitionism, threesome, m/m/f, bisexual sex, lesbian sex, bisexual reader, vaginal fingering, oral sex (m and f. receiving), double penetration, spit fetish, panty fetish, cum swallowing, facial, cream pie, mentions of violence, mentions of human sacrifices, masturbation, mutual masturbation, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, reader is a hoe and so is everyone else.

Previously on Pretty Lady > Next

Pretty Lady Masterlist

***

The key to being a good Head of House is knowing the masters. Yunho knew their daily schedules backwards and forwards. Each of them woke up at the same time, ate at the same time, went to work and came home at the same time. They took tea in the open-air garden on Fridays, went out to dinner on Saturdays, and slept in on Sundays. Yunho never missed a beat. He ran the meal services like clock work, counting down the minutes on his pocket watch. His masters never complained, and everything worked as it should. 

However, it all came to a head when you arrived. At first, you followed the same schedule as your masters. It was easy enough with Yeosang as your chief handler. Yet, one day the masters tell him you’re no longer their plaything. You are Lady YN, Marchioness of the Trees, a Lady of Eden, and Mistress of the Black Keep. This meant another set of likes and dislikes to learn, a schedule to follow, and a person to serve. Yunho expected you to follow a similar regimen as your former masters. 

You didn’t. 

Yunho never knew what you’d do for the day. With no employment, you didn’t need to wake up early. You never knew what you wanted to eat or drink. Wooyoung only made recommendations on your wardrobe, and you did your own hair and makeup. No schedule to maintain, you simply lived off your moods. You might go on a shopping trip, go to the salon to get your nails done, or walk about town with Jongho and Mingi. You may sit in your room all day, dancing or listening to music or read books and fashion magazines. Yunho never knew what to expect, and that annoyed him. 

The only consistent thing he knew was you visited your greenhouse in the mornings, checking on the plants and feeding Octavius. After you saw the masters off to work, you’d go with Jongho to the greenhouse. He’ll admit since you took over, the gardens appeared much more vibrant and lively. Octavius, formerly Dennis, and his offspring wanted for nothing, which kept the damned creature out of his hair. You’d been against feeding Octavius slaves from the city or disobedient servants. Instead, Hongjoong brought you scum from the lower dungeons to give to them. Certainly suffocating to death or being torn apart by vicious sentient plants was a worse fate. 

“You were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar when I met you…”

He heard you from the entrance of the massive greenhouse. Your clear and resonant voice flowed through the branches and vines high above, accompanied by Hongjoong’s radio. Yunho only had to follow the sound down a path of bright flowers to find you near one of the mossy fountains. You danced along the edge of the stone pool, where water lilies and lotus flowers floated in the currents. He swore the lotus flowers glowed a faint pink light. Yeosang mentioned you’d been working on your botanical abilities. You knew how to regrow and speak to them; you could control their growth and patterns as well. But, that was about it for now. Watching you from afar, he understood the masters’ fascination and infatuation with you. 

You’re beautiful. You’re lively and glowing with life. Even in Hell, where misery and despair go hand-in-hand, you didn’t let it touch you. Being around you felt like being in a different time. Yunho grew up around the old-fashioned ways of his ancestors. You brought new music and culture to the Black Keep. He heard the maids saying things like “that’s bitchin’” or “take a chill pill, dude”. One of the younger footmen told him he had an “awesome bod”. Your carefree attitude and free spirit became contagious. Yunho liked it. It made his masters and staff happy, and that made him happy. 

“Don’t-Don’t you want me? You know I can’t believe it when I hear that you won’t see me-”

“-Mistress, your breakfast-”

“Don’t-” you whipped your head to him, dramatic and fierce, “Don’t you want me?”

“Mistress-”

“-You know I don’t believe you when you say that you don’t need me…” you stalked over to him, bobbing your head to the music. He found it quite comical. “It’s much too late to find. You’d think you changed your mind. You better change it back or we will both be sorry! Don’t you want me baby?! Don’t you want me ohhhh oooh-”

“-Mistress,” he laughed as you bounced around him, “I have your breakfast.”

You continued singing to your plants. He noticed the glowing lotuses brightened to the tune of the song, various pinks and whites in the dark water. A new ability, he assumed. He placed the breakfast tray on a table nearby, then turned back to you. You were breathtaking today. Not because of your tight high-waisted shorts or the blouse that flattered your shape. The light in your eyes, the carefree way you sang and danced around made you beautiful to him. He sometimes thought he might be in the presence of a goddess, a being higher than himself who came to bless him with her beauty. 

A beauty he appreciated every night through a peephole. 

“Thanks, Yunho,” you smiled, catching your breath. “Is it Cook’s egg bowl?”

“With potatoes, scallions and bacon bits as requested,” he nodded. “I took the liberty to brew you a dark roast this morning. Jongho mentioned you favored it over the medium we normally brew.”

“Aw, Yunho,” your smile gave him butterflies. Watching you come over to the tray, you fixed your coffee, “You’re so sweet.”

“I’m only doing my job, Mistress. It’s my duty to make sure you’re always comfortable and happy.”

“Or Seonghwa will feed you to Octavius?”

“It is a scary punishment,” he joked back. 

The fact that he’d made you laugh brought out a smile. “Ooop,” you giggled over your steaming cup, “I did it.”

“Did what?”

“Make the Head of House smile.” You hip bumped him, “Don’t be such a statue. You’re cute when you smile.” 

“I can smile,” he excused. He never realized it until he met you that he rarely laughed. Not that he can’t joke around, he could. His job simply took up too much time for that sort of thing. He took a look around to see if he caught Jongho anywhere. “Where is Jongho? He is meant to be here with you.”

“He’s with Yeosang,” you said, walking over to a swing made of branches and flowers. Sipping your coffee, a tangle of vines pushed the cart over to you and you started eating. “They're bringing more lights.”

“More lights?”

“Hongjoong wants to take pictures of me,” you said. “Did you know he does photography?”

“It is one of his hobbies.”

“His least sexual ones,” you noted, scooping up more egg and sausage. “I was looking around for a book in his room and I found his portfolio. He takes really good pictures. I mean, most of them were people in bondage or lingerie, but still tasteful. I asked him about them and he told me he likes to do it from time to time, so he said he wanted to photograph me.”

“You'd make a splendid model, Mistress,” Yunho said, trying not to notice your lips around the spoon. Did everything you do have to look good? “Will you be needing anything else?”

“Not right now, thanks.”

“My pleasure.”

He bowed, and then left. Then, he saw Master Hongjoong come through the greenhouse doors. He noticed the black duffle bag and camera around his neck. 

“Morning, sir,” Yunho stopped to bow. 

“Morning. Is YN here?”

“As always.”

“Good. Make sure nobody disturbs us for now,” he said, adjusting the camera around his neck. “I don't like being interrupted.”

“Of course, sir.”

Hongjoong walked down the garden path, and an idea came to Yunho. Lunch service wasn't for a while. His staff all knew their duties and knew the penalty for falling behind. He could spare a few minutes. 

Waiting until Hongjoong disappeared, he went down the opposite path around the greenhouse. He still heard the radio playing, soon followed by Hongjoong’s voice. Hiding behind a lattice divider of flowers, Yunho saw you and Hongjoong through the holes. It reminded him of the ones back in the keep: small concealed holes he'd cut into walls and paintings to spy on people. He'd originally done it to keep an eye on the staff, but he soon learned it came with other benefits. He'd grown fond of watching the masters with their servants. Watching their hard bodies rut into the soft forms of their partners aroused him to no end. The idea that they had no idea made him harder. Eventually, Master Seonghwa discovered these holes, and began enjoying them as well. Now, it was his favorite thing. H

e stood against the divider and watched you pose for Hongjoong. The photos started off innocently enough: you posing with flowers and on the edge of the fountain in various angles, and slowly removing clothing in each shot. Blood rushed to his core when you knelt naked in the fountain. Flower petals clung to your wet skin in places, and the glowing flowers added an ethereal mood to it. You might be a goddess emerging from the pool, covered in the flowers you loved so much. You could be offering him your body in exchange for his undying faith. 

Hongjoong stopped snapping photos when he could no longer control himself. You sat kneeling in the pool, thighs spread as vines crept up your body. Yunho’s jaw dropped when one of them slid into your mouth. You truly are a sinful sight. How could anyone expect to resist you? He stood there, hot around the collar, and observed. Hongjoong unbuckled his jeans, pushing his hips to your face as the vine slithered down your body. By the stifled moans, your vine had entered you. Yunho let out a soft sigh, unable to look anywhere but at you. 

You should be worshiped. You are an exotic nymph who comes to seduce and ensnare him. He'd gladly step into the water if it meant tasting your lips, regardless of what happened after. He knew he could have you now, if he wanted. No longer a pleasure slave, you could seek out others. He'd let you collar him right away. He groaned softly when Hongjoong tapped his cock on your tongue, sliding it up and down before pushing back into your mouth. Yunho began rubbing the tightness in his trousers when you spread your legs for Hongjoong. He watched the redhead set you on the dirt and slip into your warm cunt. He had a view of where you both met; the mere shadow of his thick cock filling you had Yunho stroking himself soon enough. 

It was when you rode Hongjoong that he came. You arched your back so your round ass stuck out. That way, he saw the hard cock stretching you. You looked so beautiful this way: hair tousled, body shimmering with sweat and your pussy wetting the dick inside you. He couldn’t help imagining you opening your mouth as he jerked himself over you. You'd catch every drop; his offering to his divine goddess. Yunho gripped the wooden divider in front of him as his body contorted to his orgasm. In quiet, restrained moans, he spilled his cum all over the floor. Your own orgasm came shortly afterwards, coming in time with Hongjoong’s upward thrusts. 

“Open your mouth for me, baby,” Hongjoong ordered, moving to stand over you. 

‘Cum in her mouth,’ Yunho thought hungrily. ‘Cum in her slutty mouth.’

He did. What he loved more was you licking Hongjoong clean. Yunho took deep breaths, tucking himself back into his pants when he noticed. Hongjoong's tip in your mouth, you glanced over to his hiding spot. He swore you made direct eye contact with him. You slid your tongue up and over the bulb of Hongjoong, sucking whatever remnants you'd missed the first time. He needed you. He needed to fuck you senselessly; he needed to worship and pleasure you. 

“Can we keep going, Master?” you asked innocently, stroking Hongjoong. “I haven't been fucked in such a long time. I can't stop now.”

“Give me those pretty lips and we can definitely go again.”

Yunho ended up watching each hot, sweaty, dirty round. He'd never cum so much before. You truly must be something divine. 

A goddess. 

*****

You realized you enjoyed teasing Yunho. Not only did the butler give adorable flustered looks, but his squirming contrasted his stern, professional appearance. It reminded you of Yeosang, who kept his composure even in the face of your naked body. You'd been sure that when he spied on you in the greenhouse, he'd come and taste you himself. But instead, he stayed hidden the entire time. So, you decided to signal him in other ways.

You spent a whole week eating creamy cakes and tarts to make white messes around your mouth. Yunho swallowed thickly when you locked eyes with him. He'd watch you lick the cream from your fingers or wipe it from your mouth with fascination. You thought for sure he'd give in then. Everyone else did. Instead, he’d offer his handkerchief, a white cloth embroidered with gold thread. 

You then tried a more direct approach. Yunho often came by your room for status reports from Jongho and Yeosang. Since discovering this, you often entangled yourself in the pair right before he showed up. He stayed to watch only once. You saw him drool over your bouncing breasts, and bend a little to catch them both inside you. You begged him to join, but he stayed silent. Couldn't he tell how badly you wanted him? When this didn't work, you started simply walking about the keep naked, especially in the servant areas. While you let other servants have their look, it was Yunho you focused on. He liked your tits, you knew that much. He'd bit his inner cheek when you allowed cream to drop from your chin to your breasts. 

He. Did. Nothing. 

Yet, his resistance only made you want him more. With his long limbs and broad body, Yunho stood out from the rest of the servants. You knew many female servants found him attractive, and you agreed. His curved horns came from the sides of his head, and in the right light you saw the silver bands gleaming around them. His tail, skinny and long, had another band right underneath the arrow-shaped end. Seonghwa explained to you that children of Mammon, Prince of Greed, often adorned themselves with silver or gold. He told you off-duty Yunho wore silver earrings and piercings. You doubted you'd ever see “off-duty Yunho” since Yunho worked more than anyone else in the Black Keep. 

Which is where your teasing came in. Out of all the servants, Yunho shows the least interest in sleeping with you. Aside from your first time with San, where he'd watched, the house manager kept his distance. He only really served the lords, since Jongho and Yeosang are your personal servants. But, as time went on in the keep, you began wondering if the incubus avoided being alone with you. Maybe he didn't enjoy sex the same as the others; he might be more spectator than performer. That did leave a smudge of disappointment, since you found Yunho’s puppy-dog eyes and large hands attractive. Now that you can sleep with whoever you like, you want a slice of every pie and cake in the place. He had plenty of opportunities to indulge in your pie, but did not. 

You wondered what made the butler tick. Yes, trying to coax him into your bed might be a bit messed up, but you knew he wanted it. You could tell whenever he saw you naked; whenever you showed him your tight sex being filled by someone or bounced your tits on purpose, his eyes lingered there until he remembered his place. Trying to get him only made you ache for him more. 

“Linette?” 

Linette, a succubus of 180 years, was one of the younger maids in the house. Tight brown curls hung around a heart shaped face, with pouty lips made for kissing. Her golden brown skin glowed from her beauty and her kind’s natural radiance; almond eyes batted long lashes that gave off an innocent appearance. In her black and white uniform, you understood the males’ fascination with her. She'd finished ironing one of Seonghwa’s shirts as you approached her. She stopped at once, and stood up straight. Thankfully, only you two occupied the scullery. 

“Yes, Mistress?” she asked in her soft voice. 

“I had a question, and I don't want anyone else to know,” you began.

“I swear anything you say in confidence will stay with me,” she said quite proudly. 

You moved closer to her, “Where are the peepholes?”

“The peepholes? I-I don't know what you-”

“-I know you know,” you said. “All the servants do. You must have looked through one before. I know they are in the secret passages around here, but which rooms? What parts of them?”

She fiddled with the end of her apron, clearly torn between honesty and lying. “They're mainly in the bedrooms,” she finally admitted, “But there are some looking into the study, the music room, the main library, the lounge and a few other places.”

You snorted amusedly, “You know where all of them are, huh?”

She turned away shyly. “All of us do, Mistress. It's a sort of recreational activity around here.” She stepped to you, “I can show you where they are, should you wish to enjoy them too?” 

“That’d be awesome. Where’s the first one?”

Linette escorted you around the keep. The first peepholes hid inside paintings around Hongjoong’s apartment: one looking into his bedroom and another in his dungeon. She then took you to the one in between books in the library, the two peeking into the lounge, one looking through a mirror in San’s personal gym, several in all the bathrooms, one inside a low painting in Seonghwa’s music room, and one peering inside the kitchen. She then took you through the dimly lit passages to a room you knew very well.

Your bedroom.

Linette explained yours is the newest, most popular one. You suspected this much whenever you caught a footman or a maid looking at you. Seonghwa mentioned it a few times to you, but you didn’t think too much about it. The possibility someone might be watching you intrigued you. You never minded in the brothel. Most of your work happened in the main room regardless, so you’d shed a lot of your shame since then. As she guided you away from your bedroom peephole, a sudden noise caught your attention. The last hole happened to peek into your dressing room. No doubt many servants watched you undress in here, seeing your body in a casual setting. Curiosity got the better of you, and you stopped to remove the painted corn plug.

“Fuck…”

A rush of warmth went over you when you saw him. Leaning against one of the dressers was Yunho. Head tilted back, you saw his pants pooled around his ankles and his shirt lifted up from his narrow hips. The softly defined abdomen tensed each time his cock twitched. Your mouth watered at the sight of him. It salivated more when you saw what he jerked himself with: a pair of red silk panties. Lightly, he rubbed your panties over his throbbing length. He lowered his head to watch your panties snag on the head. With his free hand, he stroked the clothed tip until the silk became sticky with precum.

“Wow….” you breathed softly, seeing him whimper at this new maneuver. “He’s bigger than I’d first thought.” You remembered the last time you’d seen that dick. It looked delicious even then.

“Hm?” Linette walked back to see what you’d found, and she giggled softly. “Oh yes. Yunho is pretty big.”

“I think I’d have to do size training with that,” you smirked at her.

“He really likes that.”

“And how do you know?” you crossed your arms and grinned.

“We’ve…We’ve done it a few times.”

“Really?” you gasped, intrigued. “What was it like?”

“Amazing!” she said, happy to see your positive reaction. “He’s so considerate and comforting. He’s more gentle than Master Hongjoong or Mingi, for sure. When I do it with him, it’s like the first time every time. He does have a fascination with panties, which I’m sure you can tell already. He likes to make me cum inside mine so he can keep them.”

“How often have you done it?”

“Not too often. We’re both really busy, but sometimes, you know, those pent up feelings come out.”

“Does he do it with only you or others?”

“Just Mingi and myself. They’re very close, and he knows I won’t tell the other servants.”

“Are you guys, like, a thing?”

“Not really. Yunho’s not the dating type, and neither am I. We like to keep it casual with no strings attached.”

“Huh, no labels. I get that. I wasn't the dating type either. I never found anyone worth dating in the first place.” You looked back into the peephole. Yunho’s hips began moving forward, his hand jerking him faster as he grew closer to his release. “He must taste so good.”

“He does,” she confirmed. She then giggled, “I mentioned it to him once, and now he cums down my throat whenever we do it. He says he likes seeing my mouth full of cum.”

“Dirty girl,” you looked back over to tease. You started liking Linette more and more. Not only was she as beautiful as you, but clearly didn’t mind speaking frankly about obscene subjects. “If only he'd let me get a lick. He wouldn't regret it.”

“Yunho has pretty strong willpower. He won't be as easy as the others.”

“Psh, tell me about it,” you rolled your eyes. “I've been sending very obvious signals, and he just stands there and jerks off. Sometimes he straight up runs away from me. I don't get what I'm doing wrong.”

“Nothing, I'm sure. Yunho isn't really like other demons. Sex takes a backseat to everything else.”

“Clearly.”

Your sex throbbing between your thighs, you watched Yunho’s body tremble as he came. His hand gripped the dresser behind him until the knuckles turned white. He fucked his hand as if it were a real hole, squirting into your underwear while he imagined your cunt instead. Or, did he fantasize about your mouth? Your ass, perhaps? You were dying to know. A distinct wetness pooled in your panties as Linette led you out of the passageway into a room you’d never seen before.

A room made of gray marble, steps in the floor lead into a pool of crystal clear water. Circular, the mosaic piece at the bottom resembles a lotus flower in white and gold. Not exactly big, it could fit a good number of people should there be a party.

“We have a pool?” you asked Linette in surprise.

“We do. You’ve never been here?”

“No, I wasn’t aware we had one. It looks great.”

Your body flushed with heat from your arousal, you untucked your polo shirt from your shorts and flung it off. Linette stood by as you undressed yourself, picking up the pieces on the floor. Once you were naked, you looked over to her. 

“Linette? Care to join?”

The question caught the maid off guard. “Oh, me, Mistress?”

“It’s cool if you don’t want to,” you told her. “I know not everybody’s into girls and boys. I’m sure if you went and asked someone else, they’d be up for it.”

She shyly stepped over to you, “I’d like to do it with you very much, Mistress. The men aren’t the only ones who peek into your room sometimes. Your beauty truly is unique around here, and you’re…a goddess.”

The thought that even the female servants desired you pumped up your ego a bit. Moving over to her, you held her by the hips as you brought her in for a soft peck. Lips plush like petals, their warmth and taste drew you in further. Kissing down her long neck, you untied her apron and tossed it aside. Heavy breathing flowed between you as you stripped her down, gasping when you saw her supple tits inside a white lace bra. Pert and supple, you took her dark nipple in your mouth to hear her softly gasp. 

A part of you knew your kisses fueled Linette’s arousal, the woman eager for more of you. Yet, you couldn't help yourself. Sex became such a big part of your life in Hell, that you can't go without it. All the oppressed feelings in your natural life came loose in your afterlife. You wanted to sample everything like a kid in a candy store. 

Linette let out a soft moan once you cupped her round ass, whimpering when you spread them. This. How did anyone expect you not to hunger for this? Especially with so many fine specimens around? Her desire became clear when she grabbed your ass in return, squeezing until you moved into her. No doubt the low water surface teased her smooth sex like it did to yours. She moved her hands to palm and sucked your tits while you groped her ass. The drug coming from your lips fueled the flames already burning between Linette’s thighs. The scent of mixed spices clung to your nose, and you hungered for more of her. 

You’d laid her against the steps, kissing down her stomach when the door opened. 

“Linette, there you are. I have been looking…for…you.”

Yunho stood in the doorway, dazed by the sight by the pool. It took him a minute to realize what he’d walked into, and you thought he’d walk right back out. Yet, he remained frozen a few feet from you. His eyes cast down your wet bodies, and he gulped. Keeping your eyes on him, you sucked on one of Linette’s breasts. The light brushes of her hands down your sides created goosebumps. Yunho stayed stock still as you both kissed and caressed one another. His attentive stare burned fires that you couldn’t douse out. His presence made each of you want to do more and more. You expected him to eventually give into his desires and at least stick his hand in his pants, but he never did. As you and Linette took things up a level, Yunho only spectated. When Linette turned you to face him, your back to her chest, he didn’t move a muscle. Seeing her begin rubbing your pussy, you thought surely he’d cave. Maybe he preferred his women to be clothed? He did absolutely nothing when you pressed Linette to the top steps and fingered and licked her. He might as well be watching a TV show by how much he reacted. 

Yunho stood by as you sisscored, your sensitive cores sliding up and down each other. Both of you realized you’d get nothing from the only man in the room, so you came together in front of him. Seeing you both breathing deep, collapsing on the smooth floors, Yunho only nodded. 

“Well done,” he said. “I quite enjoyed that.”

“You did?” you asked in disbelief. “You’re not even hard.”

“I can control myself, Mistress. Someone in my position can't indulge whenever we please,” he replied simply. He said this, but you knew he wanted it. “I assume Linette won’t be joining the dinner service?”

“She’ll be indisposed, I’m afraid,” you answered, crawling over and kissing her softly. 

His eyes lingered on your nude, wet body. You angled yourself to let him have a full view, knowing he’ll save it for later with another pair of panties. When his eyes wandered to Linette, and his attraction to her became clear. Linette, who must be a kindred spirit, did the same as you. Yunho, unlike any other incubus in the house, coughed and bowed his head to you. He left the room, but you knew the image stuck with him as he walked out. 

You and Linette laughed softly at his reaction. The two of you stayed in the pool for a while, talking and occasionally kissing. You learned Linette is the youngest maid out of the entire staff, which makes her the most sought after by the masters and others. She’d been born into a poor family, distant relations to Prince Beelzebub, Prince of Gluttony, and she started cleaning houses at a young age. Not everyone, she told you, became pleasure or house slaves. A good chunk of low-ranking demons worked in the houses of the elite as maids or butlers. 

“Like Yunho,” she said, drying herself off. “He’s a great-great-great-great-great grandson of Prince Mammon. He had a bit of money, and his father had a title but he’d squandered most of it in the gambling dens. Yunho became a butler to pay off family debts at first, but then he joined The Black Keep when he befriended Master Seonghwa.” 

“You know a lot about him, hm?”

She smiled shyly, “We do talk socially and after sex in his room. He’s so intelligent and wise. I’ve learned a lot from him since I’ve been here.” 

“Aw, you have a crush.”

“No, I don’t,” she shook her head, laughing. 

“That smile’s telling me different,” you teased in a sing-song voice. “Is he your type?”

“Tall, smart, with big eyes and a huge dick? He’d be anybody’s type.”

You and her laughed. You liked Linette, you decided. After this, she became part of your own “staff”: Yeosang managed everything (despite pretending it annoys him), Jongho tended to you personally, Mingi guarded you, and sweet, pretty Linette handled the cleaning and serving. It felt good, you realized, to have a group to call yours. Sure, they served you but not out of obligation. You didn’t have many friends in Hell. 

They felt like home. 

****

“Don’t leave me,” you murmured into his ear, slowly drawing out of your grogginess. “Stay here.”

Hongjoong’s soft giggle cut the silence, “I wish I could, Pet. I really do.”

You wrapped your arms around him from behind, and nuzzled his neck. You’d spent the night in Hongjoong’s bed, cuddling and talking as you both drifted to sleep. His job in the lower dungeons exhausted him, and he’d wanted comfort rather than sex. Turning over, he pecked the side of your mouth to avoid another sex-inducing kiss. 

“Just pretend it’s still night time,” you said, recalling a scene in your favorite Shakespearian play. “Everyone else is asleep, and the moon is still in the sky. You don’t leave for a few more hours,” you kissed his cheek and snuggled to his side. “Stay here.”

“It’s morning, babe,” he picked up on your playful banter. “Yunho’s going to come in here soon and draw back the curtains. You can’t sleep with the sun shining on you. It sucks.”

“No, it’s nighttime,” you said. “He’s too busy banging Linette to come in here.”

The comment pulled Hongjoong out of the conversation. “What? With Linette?”

“Don’t tell anyone,” as chatty as Hongjoong is, he can keep secrets. “But, they apparently hook up sometimes.”

“Ooh, where?”

“I guess wherever they’re both at?” you said, pushing red strands from his face. “She was showing me all the peepholes, and we caught him jerking off in my dressing room. That's when she told me.”

“With your panties, I’m assuming?”

“How’d you know?”

“I’ve dry humped him while wearing women’s underwear before.” You should have expected a lewd story. “I swore he came twice from it,” he chuckled, bringing you closer under the warm blankets. “I was trying on some stuff I’d bought from Wooyoung during my cross-dressing phase-”

“-You had a cross-dressing phase?-

“-Obviously, yes. Everyone has one,” he said quickly, “And he caught me. I asked him if he preferred the black lace or the violet satin, and he said he couldn’t choose between them. With a bit of flirting, I wore each one to see which made him cum harder. He likes satin or silk. He says they get wet easily, and he can feel it.”

“You never wear panties for me,” you flicked his shoulder.

“I didn’t know you liked that,” he said.

“I’d like to try it sometime.”

“Do you want a dress too?”

“Let’s start off with panties and see where it goes, yeah?” you both laughed, and you clung to him. “So yeah, Linette and him fuck on occasion. We fucked in that secret pool you have that nobody told me about, and Yunho walked in. Can you believe he wasn't even hard?”

“Yeah, I can. Dude's an enigma,” he said. “He can get hard and soft on cue. I have no clue where he'd learned it from, but it can be useful in certain situations. I don't think even your charms would work on him.”

“They didn't.”

“And you're disappointed,” he cooed, “Aw, the little slut didn't get the dick she wanted.”

“I haven't done it in a while.”

“You told me you did it with Linette.”

“That doesn't count.” 

He paused, “Would you, you know, do that again? With another woman?”

“I might. It'd be somewhere way more comfortable though,” you kissed his shoulder. “Yes, you can watch through a peephole or something.” 

“Psh,” he said, “The peepholes are for the servants. We get the two-way mirrors.”

“Hold on,” you said, shocked, “Two-way mirrors?”

“Yeah. The servants don’t know because they’re pretty well hidden in the walls,” he elaborated. “They’re not in every room, but most of them. Haven’t you noticed there’s mirrors in rooms where it'd be kind of odd to have them?”

“No, obviously.” Then, the thought came to you, “You have them in my rooms, don’t you?”

“Naturally,” he said. “I really enjoyed watching you and Jongho the other day. I didn’t think you’d be the dominant type.”

“I’m typically not, but I don’t know,” you idly traced his collarbone, “He’s so cute and submissive already. I couldn’t help it.” You then asked, “How would I know you’re there?”

He gave his wicked smile, “You don’t. That’s what makes it hot.” He skimmed down your side, reaching around to grab your ass, “One of us could be watching and you’d never know.” He reached down to kiss your breast, “So, feel free to touch yourself in front of one. You never know who's watching.”

“How spine tingling.”

A light knock at the door pulled you both from your heated world, and Hongjoong called for them to enter. Yunho walked into the room with the familiar sherry glass of cold serum. All the heat that built up fizzled away when you saw it. He must have guessed you’d try luring Hongjoong into sleeping with you. Either him or Seonghwa, you’re never sure. Hongjoong rolled onto his back and you rested on his chest. You both wore pajamas to bed, so you only felt him through the shirt and shorts he’d worn. A part of you longed to drag your clothed sex over the bare limb until you came all over yourself, but you knew better.

“Morning, Yunho,” he said in a hoarse voice, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Morning Master, Mistress,” he bowed his head. “Cold serum, sir. Master Seonghwa thought you might need it.”

“Of course he did,” he huffed. “He just wants her to himself,” he wrapped you tightly in his arms and kissed your forehead.

Since losing your slave status, you didn’t have to adhere to quality time days with your lovers. You mostly did to avoid them fighting over you, but if you preferred San over his brothers one night, they couldn't argue. They thought you never noticed the sneaky tactics they’d use to get you into their beds instead. Their small spats amused you; it made you feel desirable and important, two things you hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“I suppose I will,” he grumbled, leaving the bed and taking the small glass. He downed it in one gulp, hissing from the cold syrup in his mouth. “I hate that crap,” he said. “I’m already going to the coldest place in Hell. Now I gotta walk around with this stuff in me.”

“Master,” you whined, reaching to his back to trace his spine, “I can warm you up.”

He laughed, “Yunho should have brought you one, naughty girl.”

He turned to kiss your cheek, narrowing avoiding your attempt at kissing his lips. “It won’t work anyways,” he said, catching on to it. “Cold serum’s pretty strong.”

“Even for my kisses?” you lifted your shirt up your stomach to the bottom curves of your tits.

“Especially those,” he said, reaching underneath to roll a nipple between his fingers. He smirked at your clenched thighs, “I have toys, baby. You can use those.” He smiled when he kissed beneath your breast, “My needy baby. You’ll get to have it later, I promise.” He raised your shirt over them, and took one in his mouth. The gradual whirls around the middle added to your growing arousal. “Go to your greenhouse if you’re so horny,” he pulled away. “Your little plants don’t say no to their mistress.”

“But I want you,” you pouted, sucking on his thumb. “I’ve gone too long without you in me.” 

“I know, baby,” he said, forcing himself to leave your side. You normally spotted a bulge by now, but not this time. Cold serum really did its job. “And you can have it later, like I said. Stop being a whore and get up.”

The insult only aroused you more. Hongjoong sensed this and laughed, “You like it when I degrade you. And people say I’m a slut. Here’s what you’re going to do then,” you gasped when he grabbed your pussy, mushing it with his fingers, “I'm going to go shower. While I'm gone, I want you playing with this lovely pussy of yours. By the time I'm done, I want you ready to cum for me. If you aren't ready before then, I’ll have to punish you. You do remember what I did during your last punishment, don’t you?”

“I do.”

He’d taken you close to orgasm multiple times before simply stopping. You remembered the frustration of him pressing a toy to your pussy only to deny you an orgasm. He’d gotten you dripping over his sheets before he left for “a snack”. The longest thirty minutes of your life with Yeosang instructed to keep you edged until he returned. Your household manager’s degrading remarks only took you closer, as well as the slaps to your cunt.

“And we don’t want that to happen again, do we?”

“No, sir.”

“Then what are we going to do?”

“Keep playing with myself until you come back.”

“Good girl.”

Hongjoong kissed your cheek then left for his bathroom. With a soft click, you knew he’d locked it to avoid you going after him. You couldn’t fight off the irritation in you. Glancing over to Yunho, you wanted to see if he’d cave this time. Two women might be too much for him. Sliding your shorts off, you kicked them in his direction.

“Mistress?”

“You like watching, don’t you?” 

“Um, well, I suppose. Master Hongjoong said he didn’t want you doing…that until later.”

“He said to hold it until he came back,” you lifted your knees and spread them, putting yourself on display. In just your panties, Yunho could only see the outline. Yet, he did fixate on the spot of wetness blotting the white cotton. Wetting your fingers, you started rolling your clit in small circles. “I can’t help it sometimes,” you whined, the tight sensation pulsing in your walls, “I get so turned on. I’m sure you know how that feels?”

“I do, actually.”

“Even when you watch me?” you giggled at his stunned expression, “I know you do. You like watching me,” you wet your fingers again to rub your clit softly, “You like watching my pussy get stretched out by a big dick. Is that your favorite thing to watch me do?”

“Mistress, I don’t think this is very appropriate,” he said, gulping as he still looked at you. “But, if you must know, I enjoy watching you on top.”

“I knew it,” you gasped as you lightly brushed your hand over your clit. “It’s because you get to see them inside me, huh?”

“Yes,” he answered as if you’d asked a normal question. “Your moans also change.”

“Do they?”

“They do. You’re fully on top of it, so their cock is directly pushing on that sensitive spot inside you,” he said. “I quite enjoy hearing the long string of moans you give when you’re first on top. Sometimes, I see you get into a particularly heated moment and bounce on it right away.” He stepped forward until he reached the bed. Even having him right beside you pushed your arousal forward. He chuckled, “Or your partner holding you to them as they fuck into you hard and fast; your ass rippling and slapping against them each time just gives me a certain feeling.” His vulgar fantasies stirred more pressure, but you pulled away. Yunho let out a long breath when you pulled both sides of your underwear to the middle, isolating your clit and wetting the fabric more. “Mistress…” he breathed, his hand resting on your knee, “Oh, Mistress…”

“Yes?” you breathed out, using your finger to tease the hard nub. The long fingers trailed down your inner thighs back and forth, while he admired your wet underwear. 

“May I watch you?” he asked.

“Only watch? You don't want to touch me too?”

He let his fingers draw further down your thigh. “You're offering me the privilege to touch you?

“I am,” you said. You recalled what Linette said. She'd called you a ‘goddess’. “I only give that to so few people.”

“Then I truly am lucky,” he said. He lifted one leg and sat on the edge. Facing you, he stayed between your ankles to keep touching you softly. “I could watch you do this all day if you asked it of me.”

“You really like watching, huh?” you giggled, finding his kink humorous at this point. 

“It's like watching porn in real life,” he said. “I get to see your body move and bend to the passion burning inside you up close. I can see your cunt,” he said, taking a deep breath, “And how wet it gets. You are…..Divine, Mistress. I never miss an opportunity to look at you in your most intimate moments. It's like coming across a rare bird. You take in as much as you can because you might not see it again.”

“Except you see me way more.”

“Not nearly enough, in my opinion.” He massaged the backs of your calves, and said, “Keep touching yourself, Mistress. Let me look.”

“With my panties on?”

“If I may keep them afterwards.”

“I have plenty,” you settled yourself against the pillows, rubbing your foot on his crotch, “So yes.”

Yunho then sat on the edge and watched you tease yourself. He let out a deep groan when your foot started sliding up and down his crotch. His eyes, however, stayed on your hand. The slight pressure hardened against the curve of your foot, and you knew he enjoyed it too much for you to stop. You should consider wearing stockings next time. When you pulled your panties aside to show him, he undid his trousers and pulled himself out for you. Heavy breaths joined soft whimpers as you teased his cock and yourself for him. Your toes rolling over the tip, applying a mild bit of pleasure made Yunho hitch a breath. As you did this, Yunho ran his hand from your toes to your thighs each time. The gentle touch tickled slightly, but you sunk too far in pleasure to take it in. You giggled slightly when he took hold of your ankle to guide your foot on his length. His cock grew harder against the sole. You guessed he really could separate himself from his desires. 

Until now. 

Eventually, he withdrew his bare length for you to continue teasing. You turned your foot inward and stroked him on one side. Yunho gripped the edge of the bed, whimpering at the light touches. He gave a particularly breathy moan once you found his balls inside his pants. You found his grinding into your foot too erotic to ignore. Your clit pulsed against your fingers as Yunho surrendered. He propped himself up on his elbows and let you have more access to him. When he looked over to your center, you spread your other leg to give him a better view. You caught a trickle of drool in the corner of his mouth, which he licked up right away. 

He suddenly pulled you over to him, your lower half between his legs. Anticipation bubbled at the closeness between you. Putting your soaked underwear back over yourself, Yunho angled his cock to slide under it. His thick tip pressed to your swollen clitoris, passing over your entrance each time. The smooth cotton of your panties became see through with your juices, which made it stick to Yunho’s shaft. The both of you whimpered and moaned at the teasing. He sometimes popped out of them to tap and rub from the outside. The light slapping became wet the longer he rolled himself around, and you started wishing he'd stick it in already. Each touch sparked sensitivity that made you wriggle between his thighs. Locked by them, you could only grip his black pants as he teased you. 

Yunho’s mouth dropped when his cock accidentally slipped inside. You whimpered feeling the head pull in and out slowly. Suddenly, your entire body felt on fire, buzzing with electricity at the same time. The desperation for more couldn't be satisfied. Withdrawing, you saw his dick glistening in the morning light. His lips parted in each moan and eyes full of longing, he made such a beautiful, erotic sight. Pictures of him pounding you into the bed formed a hard knot in your groin. His tip didn't feel enough anymore. The torture made you rut against Yunho, angling to slide further down. 

“Shall I go deeper, Mistress?” he asked, pulling out and spreading your juices around. “I only aim to please you.”

“Yes,” you sighed, “Yes, go deeper.”

Yunho lifted your legs up and maneuvered himself to be on top of you. You held onto his shoulders as he slowly entered you. Having him buried in your cunt sent new waves up your body. Legs shaking, toes curling, you clawed at his shirt sleeves as he rocked back and forth. The feeling of his girth stretching you became an instant obsession. His heavy, larger form towering over yours, you could only lay there under him. Gradually picking up the pace, your mind started spinning. The orgasm you’d been ordered to hold might arrive early after all.

“Oh, Mistress,” Yunho breathed in your ear, hands on your breasts and lips on your neck, “You feel heavenly.”

His lips and hands went down your body as much as the position allowed. Yunho memorized each part of you. You could feel him pressing his thumbs into the plumper parts, and kissing every patch of skin he reached. He sought to learn every pleasure point, every little tick and moan that escaped you. You brushed your nipples into front of his vest, enjoying the smooth satin against the hard centers. He squeezed and sucked them for you, then held them to let you enjoy the sensation. Yunho truly did wish to please you. 

“Go faster, Yunho,” you said, a plea in your voice. Your hands going through his soft black hair, he obeyed your command right away. Soon, his hips slapped against yours, the position forcing your hips a bit higher. “Yes,” you breathed, head digging into the mattress, “Just like that. Please, keep going like that. It feels so good!”

“Anything for you, Mistress,” he inhaled. “Anything.”

You brought him to your lips, pecking the pale skin there before whispering, “Then cum in my mouth. I want you to cum in it the way you do for Linette.”

“Of course,” he panted, pushing harder, “I’d cum nowhere else. Consider it an offering.” He pinned you by the wrists and went deeper, “An offer-offering to my goddess.”

“A generous one,” you gave a breathy laugh, wrapping your legs around his waist to lock him in place.

Lips parting in every moan, his eyes closing, you knew he’d cum soon. You could almost feel him twitching against your bumpy walls; he’d finish any minute if he kept going. Your own orgasm bubbled in a pot deep down, your juices trickling out in every thrust. When he began his steady pace, his head pressed right to your sensitive core again. The both of you filled the room with your groans and moans, nearly crying and screams the longer it took. You did not even notice the other person in the room.

“Is my little pet close?” Hongjoong appeared beside you in his towel. “Hm?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” you cried in time with Yunho’s hips. “So fucking close. Please, let me cum, Master. Let me cum all over it.”

“Hm, I’m not sure,” he pondered. He sat next to you, and Yunho knelt upwards to give his hand room. Fingers rapidly moved over your clit side to side, you clung to his wrist as you wriggled around. “You look so pretty like this. Your pussy all drenched, panties doused in your pussy juice and precum,” he hummed, “Looks delicious. I don’t think Yunho wants to stop any time soon either, do you?”

“I’ll go as long as my mistress wishes,” Yunho said, holding your knees as he bottomed up. “But, no, sir,” he said, watching himself go in and out, “I don’t want to stop. She feels incredible.”

“She does,” Hongjoong agreed with his mischievous smile. You loved and dreaded that smile. “Keep fucking her,” he settled beside you, removing his towel to reveal a semi-hard cock, “I want to watch up close.”

Yunho did as ordered and continued at the same pace. Occasionally, Hongjoong spat where you met to wet you further or hold your panties aside for Yunho to go deeper. When you felt yourself about to burst, Hongjoong made Yunho stop and pull out.

“It’s so wet,” Hongjoong said, holding Yunho in his hand. He used your combined fluids to stroke Yunho slowly, keeping the butler on edge. “Come here.”

Hongjoong knelt up to Yunho and kissed him deeply. You laid there, shuddering from your denied orgasm as the two men kissed. “How come you’re not naked?” Hongjoong asked, unbuttoning Yunho’s vest and sliding it off him. “YN should see the hot bod you have. It’s to die for.”

“She wanted me to keep them on,” Yunho gasped. He let Hongjoong undo his shirt and remove it to reveal his slim torso and hard nipples. He bucked into Hongjoong’s hand as the latter sucked on them.

“And I want you to take them off.”

Yunho laid back on the bed to let Hongjoong undress the rest of him. Completely naked, Yunho’s body was no longer restricted by his clothes. Hongjoong continued stroking him and kissing his nipples until you crawled to the foot of the bed. Both of you on either side of him, Yunho lost himself in a blissful whirl. Two hands toying with his throbbing cock, two pairs of lips kissing and sucking up and down his chest, and two cores rutting into his strong thighs made him wild.

Then, you did the thing you probably shouldn’t have: you kissed each of them. Since he’d drunk cold serum, you didn’t think your amatory would counteract the potion’s strength. Hongjoong remained mostly soft the entire time, his arousal maintaining mainly a mood rather than a physical need. Yet, as you slid your tongue over his, the soft muscle gradually turned stiff. He let out a low, hungry growl that shifted the tone. His dry humping became more frenzied and his kisses became sloppy and deep. Yunho’s already horny manner inflamed your kisses.

“Suck my cock,” Yunho begged you. “I want to feel your mouth around it. Both of you.”

Neither you nor Hongjoong spoke, but instead went down his body to the aching cock. Hongjoong’s hand keeping it straight by the base, the two of you licked up and down each side. His dick, fully erect, twitched whenever a tongue flicked the head. You kissed it between your mouths, tongues sliding around to touch one another. Droplets of clear liquid were caught by either of you each time Hongjoong squeezed them out. You moaned once you saw Hongjoong sink the tip into his mouth. Little by little, Yunho filled his mouth until Hongjoong hit the bottom. The sight of Hongjoong’s mouth sucking the thick muscle made you gulp. He drooled over the head, then used his spit to coat it completely. When it was your turn, Hongjoong licked around the balls underneath, sucking softly while you worked Yunho’s dick. Yunho held onto every ounce of strength in him to not stick himself deep in your throat, but you knew he wanted to. 

It went higher when Hongjoong kissed down your back to your ass, which he smacked out of pure habit. Lifting your hips, he buried his face into your dripping cunt and immediately attacked your clit head on. Yunho grabbed your hair to start sliding up into your face. Saliva and more precum gathered around your lips, turning white as Yunho used your mouth. You couldn’t focus on anything else except them. All you wanted was to fuck both of them forever, enjoying them however you could.

They grew more excited when you moved to straddle Yunho. Hongjoong held him straight to help you slide the thickness back in your tight cunt. A constant flow of moans came once you were full. Hongjoong locked Yunho’s thighs with his own, wrapping his arms around you to help you ride Yunho, who’d lost all sense by now. Unable to move, Yunho surrendered to the pleasure.

“I don’t think Yunho will be able to resist his goddess after today,” Hongjoong taunted, pinching and rolling your nipples. His surprising strength had you bouncing from top to bottom smoothly, “Show him what he’s been missing, love.”

Hongjoong released you and you lost all control. Whirling your hips, Yunho moved around inside you. You rode Yunho until you both shuddered and quaked together. But, you didn’t want him to stop. You couldn’t let him stop now. Forcing yourself to climb off him, you rested on your side and Yunho took the signal. His larger body encompassed yours, pushing your leg up high as he fucked back into you. The desperate hunger became clearer. One hand gripping your tits, the other worked your clit. Hongjoong sat next to you, watching intently as he stroked himself. Right as your pussy started clutching his cock, Yunho withdrew and replaced his cock with his fingers and tongue. 

Head locked in your thighs, Yunho’s fingers abused your g-spot until you screamed his name. Cum shot out of your pussy into his mouth, each spurt making you more and more sensitive. Even when you finished, he aimed for another orgasm. Pulling you onto his face in a single roll, you clawed at the head board as you rode his tongue. You twitched each time it hit your clit, enjoying the spark it brought and feeling it fuel your desires. Yunho, controlled by his lust, had no trouble tossing you onto your back once again.

“Yunho,” you breathed his name, squeaking when he grabbed your ankles and pinned your knees to your chest. “God, keep going. Keep fucking me. Please.”

Yunho’s long fingers went in and out quickly, your wetness creating a slick slapping sound. He hungrily sucked and licked at your clit every so often to bring you to another orgasm. At the second one, you jerked and bucked as it hit you hard. The underwear he’d refused to remove felt sticky and moist. He readjusted them to the side before replacing his fingers with his cock. Your lips turned the reserved Yunho into a feral animal. You loved it. Pulling his hair, you brought his face to your breasts to force your nipple into his mouth. His moans tickled the supple flesh, his tongue swirling around it while he fucked you. You kept his face there as he brought you to a third orgasm. 

Yunho gave a few final thrusts as you came down, then straddled your chest. His tip inches from your mouth, you opened wide to let the stringy streams grow thicker and shoot onto your tongue and lips. His low groans came from deep in his chest, pushing through gritted teeth in each growl. His body constricted, muscles and veins in his hands showing. It finished in subtle shudders, the last bits dripping directly into your throat. You let him see the pool of cum in your mouth before you swallowed; the sight made him stick his tip between your lips to milk the rest. 

You moved your hands to the front to stroke him. He rocked through them and to your mouth. Once you had his dick in your hands, you couldn’t get enough. You wanted him to get hard again. You needed him to. You went too long without it. Right when you took him in your throat, something long slipped into your sore pussy.

“I can’t help it,” Hongjoong said. “Just keep sucking him, and I’ll dump it in you.”

You adjusted yourself for more room, arms wrapped around Yunho’s thighs. Having both mouth and sex plugged up, you gave them free usage of your holes. Nothing felt better. Hongjoong’s high, cracked moans became haggard and whiny as he came. The hot sensation you loved more than anything filled your sex. Hongjoong always fucked it back into you, hardly letting any of it come out onto the bed.

Your saliva wore off soon enough. You could tell in the way their muscles relaxed, and they grew steadily quiet. Each of them fell onto the bed, resembling puddles of jelly rather than men. While they recover, you let yourself sink into exhaustion. You became aware of the fluids on you, and you used the covers to wipe what you could with limp arms. As you wiped your chin, a long-fingered hand reached out to you with a handkerchief. It smelled of butterscotch, sweet and faint on the cloth. Yunho. You saw him inches from you, grinning sleepily as he wiped you down. You stayed still to let him continue. Another hand reached your thighs, cinnamon wafting from where Hongjoong laid. He kissed your thighs, sliding his hand tenderly over your gushing pussy. 

None of you said anything. You did not need to. Yunho pecked your cheeks, your nose and neck while his fingers danced along your side. Hongjoong laid passed out near your feet, dead as far as the world was concerned. 

“You really think I’m a goddess?” you asked curiously, not sure whether it was sweet words said under heated passion. 

“I do,” he said. “You must be one to be Lilith’s blood for certain. Whenever I see you, I find it hard to look away from you. It’s been that way since I first saw you. When I saw you standing in the sitting room, the fire behind you, wearing that ridiculous succubus costume, you enchanted me. I kept my distance because you belonged to my masters, but now…I don’t believe I can stay away.”

“I wouldn’t want you to. Who else will worship me then?” you teased, which made him laugh. 

“Plenty of people around here already do. Though, I won’t lie and say I wouldn’t be the first in line.”

The two of you giggled, and you finally gave into your exhaustion. 

*****

“You’re telling me you drank a serum, and when YN kissed you, you got hard again?”

“Yup.” 

Hongjoong knocked back his afternoon drink in one shot. He poured himself another from the small wicker table. Tea time on Fridays gave them a chance to talk outside of the house. Hongjoong didn’t particularly care for it, but it’s part of the regular weekend routines.  

“I don’t know if that means the serum was weak or her potency is that strong. It was,” he huffed, “Insane. I just wanted to keep going like a damn rabbit. The shit’s addictive. I mean, you should’ve seen Yunho. He got harder than me. I didn’t think he could do that.”

Hongjoong watched his brother rub his chin. His “thinking face”, San calls it. “We’d need to test it further.”

“Hey, she’s not a test subject,” San, sitting in the middle, cut him off. “She’s YN. She might’ve been our slave at one point, but she’s not now. She’s my Darling and I won’t let you poke at her like some kind of lab rat.” 

“If she isn’t interested, then I won’t do anything, but she must be curious. I know I am. I know you two are too.” He straightened up in his chair, no longer interested in the spread beside him. “Maybe I can call that slaver from the Scarlet Silk. He can bring something for us to work with.”

“If YN wants to, that is,” he said. 

“Yes, of course. Do you know if she’s awake ye-”

“-I think we’re alone now. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around,” your singing voice came from behind a nearby hedge. “I think we’re alone now. The beating of our hearts is the only sound-”

“-You have a lovely voice, Mistress,” Yunho’s voice came after. “Where’d you learn to sing like that?”

“I started singing with my mom, then I guess working with Yeosang helped too. Don’t tell him I said that, though,” you told him quickly. “We used to sing together in the garden all the time. Oh, hey,” you came from around an entryway with a smile, “Here you guys are.”

“Afternoon, Darling,” San grinned. “You look beautiful today.”

You wore the yellow wrap-around dress today. Wooyoung’s collection of 80’s fashion impressed you greatly, and Hongjoong liked the change. All of your changes delighted him. The keep felt so dead and cold. You’d brought life back into the house, and he couldn’t help admiring that. 

Maybe you are some kind of goddess after all. 

***

A/N: talk about smut from end to end lol we're finding out more about Lady every day. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, feel free to give it a reblog and a like <3

[neoplatinum]

in sickness and in health - the finale | minatozaki sana

summary: it's time to face the two demons that lurk in the shadows

pairing: heiress!sana x reader

themes: blood, murder, gore, knives, kidnapping, assassins, katanas, arranged marriage au, fluff, angst, tension, lots of elitism, conglomerate power-hungry side characters, implied sex, misamo!

wc: 7.2k

(series masterlist)

index finger tracing along the scarred name, you stare into the open garden. the sound of a bamboo fountain trickling water, light sounds of wind passing by, hitting the wind chimes in the distance. 

the warm air making your forehead sweat, there’s an unsettling feeling in your chest. a feeling you haven’t been able to put at ease for months. waking up from dreams of the abe brother’s killing your family. 

after the abe ball, you took it upon yourself to do intensive research on their family clan. the history and intertwining of the two families like twin snakes. every generation there’s been an increasing tension between the minatozakis and the abes.

sana’s mother was married into the minatozaki family, much like you. a woman with a strong vision for the family, taking the power in stride. increasing the stretch of the power across industries, a move in which made the abes unhappy. there’s always been territory boundaries, unmoving and untouched for decades, no one crosses it.

sana’s mother crossed it. 

taking over minor territories of the abe clan in japan: a means of expansion. one that the abe’s didn’t take lightly too. the abes took it upon themselves to kill momo and mina’s father. 

a clear sign of distaste for the minatozakis, nearly sparking war between the two conglomerate powers.

which was why sana was set to marry kaito abe. a negotiation of peace and a possible united front against the smaller clans who were itching to take over whichever was killed off. 

sometimes you stare at her, eyes just capturing her, wondering about the woman that you now devoted your every breath to. 

there’s a shift, ever since the ball, she’s gone out less. more need to be around haruto and hanako. even spending days with you in office. she delivered an armchair into your office, to be placed near you while you work.

“it’s getting windy, let’s head back inside.” sana taps you, you take one final look over the garden before picking up a giggling hanako. grabbing at your ears and pulling at it. 

haruto runs ahead, feet taking off ever since he found his own speed. running down bridges of the minatozaki estate.

his little feet lead him in front of sana’s mother. her eyes warm and inviting as she crouches down to pick him up. his grabby hands picking at the flower tucked in her breast pocket. 

she looks so different like this. a woman who can kill as easily as she breathes. 

but she’s so gentle with haruto and hanako, a real grandmother at times. the way she often visits, dropping everything to babysit them. 

but she also comes to talk to you. sometimes you feel like she’s been watching you, the way you now try to take in her footsteps. to take over the family name, one that you didn’t want to bear in the first place. 

that’s all this was supposed to be, a convenient enough marriage that was backed by the minatozaki power. you get to expand your business and lead your father’s, but now you stand, as a pawn. 

likely the next leader of the clan.

hushed conversations in your office, her plans for the clan, molding you into another her. a vision she has long wanted, one that she didn’t want to force upon sana. but seeing your ambitious streak with your business, she knows you have the strength.

you just wonder if you can live up to the expectations.

--

“what do you make of the abe clan?”

“kaito and kenji. vicious, brutal, psychotic, narcissistic.” “right, what else?” she continues to take light sips of her sencha. you bought her favorite kind. 

“birds, sana told me about killer birds.” and she nods. the abe’s are like crows, hiding amongst the shadows, swarming together for the kill. it’s so obvious why they chose killer crows. 

those glossy beady black eyes, always monitoring. 

like a 24/7 surveillance system.

“what about their vulnerabilities?”

you sit and think about the brothers, both so obsessed with murder and blood. hands probably holding the blood of ten of thousands of cronies. 

you learnt of the aftermath of the watanabe, being dissolved like they never existed. their territories and power being absorbed by smaller groups clans. the whole family house being burnt to the ground. 

it was a horrifying sight on the news, covered up under the guise of an electrical fire. 

“i’m not sure.” sana’s mother stares at you, an eyebrow raised.

“who’s at the top?” she asks. setting down the cup of tea.

there’s no one at the top, that seat has been vacant for years. following the sudden death of their father, both brothers have been leading the clan.

some underground bosses have speculated that the brothers killed their own father. sent him to early retirement for the top seat. 

you can’t tell if it’s true, or worse, who did it.

“it’s just the two brothers.” you comment.

“two leaders, as brothers. a clan of that size and prestige is unheard of, i think they’ll kill each other before this year ends.” she sits backwards, leaning against the cushion.

“likely, they’re both too greedy.” you also sit back, thinking about the two brothers. the horrors that happened that night, their eyes filled with pleasure at the killings. 

delight flowing through them at the attention.

that night you returned from the abe ball, you had to hold sana, her just sobbing into your chest. making you bring haruto and hanako into the bedroom. 

her hands shaking as she held haruto and hanako. giving them little kisses as she hugged them close.

you hope to never see her so distraught again.

“do you know why you were chosen, to marry sana?” sana’s mother stands up, grabbing a folder from her drawing. unraveling the string, and taking out the contents.

“no, i don't.”

“you and sana grew up around each other. i had always known your father, he used to be an associate of the minatozakis. he was too greedy and unstable, and i always assumed that he would never amount to much. but you, you were different.” 

she starts showing you photos of you by your father’s side. small and young, without a clue in the world, just anger. 

anger for something that was truly yours, one that wasn’t from your father.

“attended the same law school as sana, but you took your work seriously. devoting years to your business, i always kept tabs on you.” 

she says, showing pictures of you during law school, in the background of sana’s photos. always there in the frame, just barely noticeable. 

“all the heirs were power hungry, but they didn’t have a driving force. nothing to prove, all handed luxuries on a golden spoon.”

“you worked for your place in the world, and that i can admire. you remind me of my young self. when i married sana’s father, i acted much like you did. dismissive towards the minatozakis, until i had sana. she was the most precious thing to me, someone i had to protect.” 

she says, handing you photos of a young sana, in her pretty dress and fake tiara. you smile at the sight, you remember often seeing her dressed up as a princess.

“i knew when i chose you, that you’d be loyal to sana, you have honor and duty in you, you can’t learn that. but this family and the clan, all of that you can learn.” 

she says pointing around the room, and you think of how much you’ve changed. taking the leading stance on propelling the power of the clan.

“i understand.” you say, taking a look at all the photos laid out, you at different points of your life. a whole different you that wanted nothing to do with the minatozakis or any clan for the matter.

“when kazuki abe murdered mamoru, we assumed that they were going to kill off the rest of the minatozakis. but then we negotiated that sana would marry kaito.” she says pointing to a marriage contract. you stare at it, the wild lines of kaito’s signature.

“but then kazuki died suddenly, of a heart attack, they said. kaito was scrambling for the marriage. wanted to marry sana immediately, move up the marriage.” 

“i told them that sana was set to marry someone else, this was a chance to change her fate.” she says, thinking back to when you were delivered a marriage contract.

“they lost their minds, swearing up and down that they were going to kill us for breaking the negotiations. but they had no leader, their father was dead, and they didn’t know how to wield the abe power. foolish little boys in dressed up suits.” 

you nod.

“but now, i see kazuki in them both, ruthless and killer minded. that’s all they care about, killing those that stand in their way. i don’t even think kaito cared about marrying sana, was more concerned that she defied the negotiation.” 

of course that’s where their priorities lied.

“do you understand now?”

“yes, mrs. minatozaki.”

“none of that, call me mom, you’re as much of my child as sana is.” she says, standing up, grabbing her cup of tea with her. you stand up as well.

“oh also, sana chose you because she thought you were captivating. her words, not mine.” and then she leaves with a grin.

-- 

“go go go!” little haruto points at the kite in your hand, the wind blowing your hair back. he jumps and claps as you run around the field, letting the koinobori kite fly into the sky. 

the orange and red fish flying in the sky. 

his laughs filling the air as the fish continues to weave through the sky. moving across the field as more string unravels from your kite.

“you having fun?” sana shouts as she walks up to you, hanako in her arms as she reaches out towards you. pulling your daughter into your arms.

“mhm, haruto is really happy.” he continues to run across the field, chasing the kite closely.

“she’s getting bigger.” you comment, bouncing hanako on your hip. handing the kite to sana. the fish flying up high. she stares at the fish in amazement, whining to reach out for it, trying to get out of your arms.

“isn't she? she might have my eyes.” sana comments, moving the kite to the other side, haruto cheering as he runs towards the other end of the field. you think they look like sana's too. ones that you used to look at as kids.

“what did you and my mom talk about.”

“talking about the abes. i learned why she chose me to marry you.” you say, trying your best to keep hanako in your arms. “didn’t know you had the hots for me even then.” you smirk.

“oh you wish!” she says, a light pink dusting on her cheeks.

“i think you said i was ‘captivating’ or am i wrong?” you laugh as sana refuses to look at you. too busy trying to wipe the smile off her face.

“you’ve gotten so cheeky lately.” you just smile at her, giving her a kiss. and you’re back to watching haruto running across the field.

--

you continue to sink into the water, letting the water move you around a bit. taking deep breaths as you dump more water across your arms. the large stones forming a barrier from the outside. lately you’ve been finding yourself more lost in your thoughts, thinking about how to best move forward.

what is your purpose now as a minatozaki?

without a doubt, you want to raise haruto and hanako properly, not letting them see the dark side of this family. they deserved a healthy childhood, one in which you and sana will foster their future. no matter what they decide.

but what about the other threats, smaller clans all itching to get a piece of the empire. you think about sana’s mother, how strong willed that woman is. wielding the entire empire in her hands, and expanding it to what it is now. 

“what are you thinking about?” sana walks across the wooden boards, just to the edge of the spring. holding out her hand, you hold yours up as she takes a dip, her feet hitting the water and sitting next to you. you give her hand a kiss, before sitting closer to her.

“how lucky i am to marry you.” you say earnestly. days of the past before sana were filled with work and sleep. you rarely enjoyed yourself then. head down in paperwork after paperwork. now you get to experience life with the most beautiful woman in your life, along with two lovely kids.

“i feel the same.” she says, grabbing your hand again, tracing along the knuckles. she stills for a second before continuing, “you know how i was supposed to marry kaito?”

you nod, feeling a sharp distaste just at the name. 

“i never loved him, and i knew i couldn’t be his wife. he would have killed me at some point, i think after mother dies.” his willingness to usurp the minatozakis is obvious, he would’ve killed the entire family if it meant being able to absorb the power that the minatozakis had.

“so i’m glad that you agreed to marry me.” she says, leaving feather-light touches across your palm. you kiss her forehead. letting her lean across your shoulder.

“me too darling.” 

she gets up, pulling her hair off to the side. exposing her back. a long winding gorgeous blue and gold dragon across it. the tail winding down her spine and the tail ending near her tailbone. a full back piece, coloring her back in vibrancy. red clouds surrounding the dragon, wrapping in the curve of her back.

you trail your finger down the body of the dragon, feeling her shudder at the sensation. it’s a beautiful piece, adorning her back. with her gorgeous figure, you can’t help but admire her. everything that sana is and will be, you love every aspect.

“you’ve always liked this piece so much.” she comments, as you lift your finger. she turns around, pulling herself onto your lap. legs laid against yours. 

“because you are gorgeous sana.” grabbing her lightly by the neck and pulling her in for a kiss. naturally, she lays her arms on your shoulder. “my gorgeous gorgeous girl.”

“yours.”

- -

“repeat that for me.” you stand up, watching sana’s mother continue to sit at her desk. pacing a bit as she continues to read down from the reports.

“the abe’s are trying to stage a coup.” she comments, reading the written report. “sent assassins to kill momo and mina, ‘finishing what they started’ they said.” you begin to bite your nail, they’re making moves now. “sent over a hundred of their foot soldiers to their sleeping quarters. momo and mina tore them all apart, but they’re recovering now, heavy injuries.”

you look at the pictures, bruised ribs, cuts along their arms and torsos. momo looks more bandaged from the sight of the photos. both of them sleeping in the minatozaki private hospital.

“you think they’ll come for us next?” you take a step away from the desk, thinking about sana. this is the last thing she needs, bad dreams of the abe brothers plaguing both your minds. now this threat is far more present, they intend to finish off killing off momo and mina, after the abe’s killed their father: mamoru minatozaki.

“yes.” she says, continuing to examine the report, reading down the lines. attacks made dead in the night, but momo and mina’s alert senses pulled them out of their sleep early enough for them to grab weapons to defend themselves. “likely soon.”

you let out a sigh, it seems the darkness is looming closer. some days when you’re outside you spot crows along tree branches, those same beady eyes from the abe manor. all ready to dive and kill at a moments notice. perhaps the abe’s have been monitoring your behavior as well.

“be prepared, the next line of minatozakis all depends on you.” sana’s mother stands up, eyes a little harder than usual as she exits her office. you look back at the photos of momo’s injuries. the bruises, the black eye, the gash along her forehead. mina got off a little easier, she’s more evasive than momo, but she looks pretty beat up too, leg in a cast.

--

“you look like shit momo.” you stare at her body, the bruising has faded a bit, leaving a yellow-ish green color along her ribs. the low sound of the machines running in the background. mina gave you a weak wave as she continues to read her book.

“i still look better than you, dipshit.” you grin, momo having enough energy to still insult you means she’s still herself. and for that you are grateful. you place the fruit basket onto her bedside table. 

“you still doing the exercises i taught you?” she says, pushing herself up with some difficulty. you pull the pillow up to support her back as she leans against the wall. 

you nod, that’s all you’ve been doing lately. training for hours, that you completely lose track of time. sometimes sana scolds you for not picking up her calls, walking into the weight room herself to take off your headphones. training for what, you aren’t even sure. maybe the looming threat of the abe’s has made you paranoid.

“momo, i came to ask you about the abe’s.” mina puts her book down gently, tabbing it before closing it. and momo crosses her arms. both of them staring at you.

“what do you want to know?”

“what happened that night? i want to know from the source.” you explain.

momo lets out a sigh while mina stares outside the window.

“they sent assassins, it was an open-contract just for that night, whoever takes blood gets the pool of money. meaning any assassin could take on the job, they wanted us both dead. didn’t matter how. so roughly 100 assassins or so, all swarming our house, they all came.” she explains.

“many of these assassin we both know personally, i think the abe’s weren’t serious about wanting us dead. i think this was just a warning to sana’s mother. that they’re coming for her.” momo says, and mina nods lightly. 

“the abe’s are killers, they would never send assassins as proxies if they actually wanted us dead.” mina explains. the abe brothers are known for keeping a public record of every person they have killed, a competition to see which brother has a higher kill count.

“doesn’t mean that this was any easier though.” momo says as she tries to rotate her shoulders. you nod, the abe’s are psychotic killers and calculating while at it.

“the abe’s only kill with their knives, it’s like an extension for their bodies. it’s how they were trained, one blade for the rest of their lives. all the abe’s have to use that same knife to take their own life, or else their death is considered shameful. they won’t get an abe burial if they let anything else kill them.” mina says with finality.

--

sana has been pacing like crazy the past few days, her uneasiness continuing to spread through to you. she’s been so anxious since momo and mina nearly got killed. 

some days she’ll stay in the nursery for hours, just spending time with haruto and hanako. or if they’re asleep, she’ll visit momo and mina in the private hospital. you can see how she’s losing sleep over this, eyes wide as she explains how scared she is that everyone will die in front of her eyes. much like what happened to the watanabes.

you don’t even know how to console her at times, just letting her tears continue to stain your clothes as she cries. often coming back from the hospital with hollow eyes.

you’ve stepped up security, placing more security measures around the manor, cameras, guards, even sensors. anything that’ll give you the upperhand against these vicious brothers.

but there’s been radio-silence, nothing to report.

and that makes you antsy, you feel like they’re plotting their next attack against your family but like a lost detective, there’s no conclusive evidence. forced to feel like this threat is a phantom, that it doesn’t actually exist at all.

sana’s mother has taken it upon herself to visit often for her grandkids, a second set of eyes that’ll be ready to jump at the scene. there’s still this trained calmness in her, one that won’t act rashly when provoked. she’s been through hell and back for this clan, and she won’t let these brothers provoke her.

--

“so they stopped sending you sunflowers?” sana asks as you stare at yesterday’s flowers. it’s a bit strange, for the past month, the flowers always arrive exactly at noon, no earlier, and no later. 

it’s also a strange flower to gift. 

“yeah, just today.” there’s never a post card or anything, but with how work has been booming you’re sure it’s just a pleased shareholder expressing their happiness. sana continues to examine the flowers, eyeing them closely, checking the vase for anything special.

“do you even like sunflowers?” she asks.

“no, not really, which is why i’m confused.” you explain, also examining the flower. the yellow petals bloomed around the disk florets. you’ve been asking shoko to figure out who the sender is, but the flower delivery is always anonymous.

sana nods, as she sits down near you, pulling out a magazine. you continue to thumb through the financial report you’ve been sent. great projections for the third quarter.

then shoko runs into the room.

“emi just called, they took haruto and hanako.” shoko shoves the phone forward, you take it out of your hand, putting it against your ear.

“emi, emi, can you hear me?” you shout into the phone, your blood pressure rising.

“they took them!” emi’s anxious voice squeaks through the speakers, her frantic voice as you hear footsteps all in the back. sana’s by your side, staring at the phone as her eyes go dark.

“who’s they?” you ask, grabbing your stuff, as shoko keeps the door open. you and sana take off, running down the hallway towards the elevator. background noise continuing to playthrough the speakerphone. you and sana keep sharing looks of panic, you can feel her shaking. 

“the abe’s, the abe’s took them. both the brothers are here.” emi continues to speak, her voice getting quieter and quieter. you grab sana’s hand as you both race down the stairwell. rushing into the parking lot, handing sana the phone as you both take off. 

“emi, do you know where they took them?” sana’s voice is on the verge of sobbing, tears flowing down her face. she continues to shake in the passenger seat, you offer your hand, as you speed out of the garage, and take the shortest road towards the manor.

“i-i don’t know miss sana.” emi’s voice cuts off and then you hear a scream, nearly stopping the car. your ears listening to the scream of emi, and then it goes silent. sana’s gripping on your hand the tightest she ever has.

then there’s a crackle before a voice comes through.

“hello darling, missed me?” the voice of kaito abe, directly reverberating around the car. sana squeezes your hand. you focus on driving as fast as you can, weaving through cars and traffic, all aimed at reaching towards your kids.

“kaito, you took my kids!” she shouts into the phone.

“oh don’t be like that darling, you know i would never actually kill them. such precious little things.” his laughter ringing out, him placing the phone directly at your kids’ mouths. their wails and cries coming through the phone.

“now, let’s get to the fun part!” his laughter coming back, you’re nearing the house. “come to us! we’ll be waiting.”

sana’s crying, her tears rolling off the phone screen, and you stop hearing anything, the ringing sound in your ears. your blood running through you like a waterfall. the thumping of your chest clambering out of your body, a desperate need to calm down. 

the adrenaline that rushes through you, you press the gas pedal harder, the thought of losing your kids killing any other thought that dares to sprout within your mind.

“before i forget! i left little gifts for you! sunflowers, very fitting, since hanako means flower child and haruto means sun. i thought you would figure it out!” his voice comes back, the ringing continuing to play with his voice.

that fucker is getting what’s coming to him.

then the line hangs up. 

you speed into the manor. outside in the lawns are lifeless bodies, all their blood staining the grass red. a massacre of minatozaki mercenaries taken out by the hands of the abes. tire marks against the ground. 

you hastily put the car in park, throwing the door open as you race to the door, it’s all ransacked. the house, nearly flipped over. deep gashes on the family portrait hung on the wall. both your and sana’s face cut from the painting. sana chases after you, her body still shaking as she examines the room around her. running straight for the nursery. 

you stop when you get inside, it’s not flipped over like the rest of the house, but both children are missing. where haruto usually sits to draw, his chair is flipped over. and hanako who likes to stand in her crib is nowhere to be seen. sana hasn’t noticed, but emi’s been murdered. her blood staining the carpet. you cover her eyes, as you lead her outside.

the absolute anger and venom coursing through your body, you reach the door. 

you get a ring from your phone. 

his voice through your ears, “if you’d like your kids back, come to the abe house alone, let’s talk.” it’s oddly normal, not his usual humored voice. almost like a friend calling. you shudder at how quick he can change himself.

“deal.”

you speed away from the manor.

--

you roll your car into the abe mansion, seeing the same red walls and dark red crest across the main entrance. a sigh leaving your lips. you weren’t really thinking when he called, and now you’re here, at the doorsteps of the abes. they could kill you right here and that would be it for you.

but your conviction to save your kids is stronger, the need to kill kaito and kenji for messing with your kids. 

parking your car in the garage, there’s no guards around. it’s too quiet, almost like something’s wrong here. you can even hear the garden running in the background.

you step into the same tunnel where you once walked through with sana. there’s no line of birds up top, also strange. like a chill up your spine, and soon you arrive inside the main hall. the same hall that was the death place of the watanabes. it’s completely empty, the decorations are still around. but without the guests, it’s just a giant room filled with war artifacts/

you keep walking through the hallways, until you reach a smaller room, much smaller. with it’s door open. and inside you can hear some light music playing. the sight of kaito and kenji abe sitting in two chairs, no guards around either. 

just them two and behind them your kids. little haruto and hanako hugging each other in the corner. haruto’s fearful eyes as he sees you, running towards you with tears in his eyes.

you rush to pick him up, while the two brothers eye you. unmoving as you grab hanako as well. placing them behind you. staring at them two. their hands spinning their twin tantos in their hands. you don’t say anything, rubbing hanako’s hair lightly as you set her down behind you. 

“take a seat.” you sit down across from the brothers. both of them adorning their family crest, kaito’s lips are curled into a smile, while kenji has a bored look on his face.

“why did you take my kids?” you ask, continuing to keep hanako in your arms. rocking her slightly, while haruto peers from behind the chair. still scared out of his mind.

“just for fun!” kaito says as he offers a lollipop to hanako, you push it away. watching the way he laughs out in amusement.

“you minatozakis are always so stuck up.” he says, placing the lollipop down on his desk. kenji continues to flip the tanto in his hand. you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. it’s still too quiet, where is everyone.

“i wanted to meet my replacement in person.” kaito explains. “needed to see sana’s plaything in person.”

kenji rolls his eyes. you continue to let your eyes drift to and from the two brothers, attune to each subtle movement. “well i’m here now, what do you want from me?”

“i want you to beg, beg for your life.” he says, knife pointed at your head. you look around you, any sign of escape. the door’s still open for some reason. you stare at him, body unmoving in the chair. hands cupped around hanako’s ears. she sinks her head into your chest, completely unmoving.

“beg?” you ask.

“yes, beg for your life! you minatozakis always just take what you want. took away from my father’s empire, that silly old lady. so my father killed one of yours.” he says, pointing to a plaque. 

engraved towards the middle is ‘mamoru minatozaki’, a list on names stretching down the plaque. all of them kills by the abes, when and who.

it’s sickening to see.

“so beg, beg for forgiveness, beg for salvation, beg for escape. because you just walked into the abe mansion like a fool.” kaito stands up, his knife back towards you, you place hanako into haruto’s arms. 

his eyes filled with tears as he begs for you to hold him. you give them both forehead kisses as he cries with his sister in his arms. 

you beg that they don’t see what you do.

you stand back up, slipping the tanto from your waistband. unsheathing it and rolling it in your hands. taking off the blazer you had on, and rolling your sleeves up.

“oh a branded one too!” kaito laughs out pointing at your forearm, you pay him no mind as he continues to laugh. “you’ve got some fight in you?”

you just nod, getting into a defensive stance, keeping your left fist leveled. as he advances forward. kenji’s still sat playing with the knife in his hand. marveling the sharp edge, while kaito’s got bloodlust painted all over his face.

he advances forward, faking a stab at your left side, the feint doesn’t bother you one bit, using the leverage to stab at his left side as well. letting your power move with your body, nearly cutting into his jacket. to which he claps at the sight, a strange man he is.

“keep going, keep going!” he exclaims, clearly getting excitement from the taunts that you are exhibiting. you begin circling him, clearly he’s excited, letting the stabs continue. you continue to flip the dagger in your hand, he lands a slash against your cheek and against your shoulder. 

kenji hasn’t even moved an inch, his finger still grazing along the edge. you feel your blood pump faster, clenching your jaw as you grip the blade harder. letting a charged attack aiming for his neck, and at the last second letting the blade slice down his body.

he cheers unexpectedly, clapping with his hands. you continue to let your eyes move from him and his brother. confused with the lack of action from kenji.

“you know how to fight! i like when my prey fight back, it’s more fun that way.” he says, changing his smile from amusement to pleasure-filled. his stance getting lower, you feel yourself getting nervous. you don’t know what he’s trained in before.

he nearly lunges at you, an unexpected speed, you dodge the attack with your arms, his knife digging into your skin. and then he pulls it back out. eyes ablaze as he continues to try and aim for your head. you narrowly dodge each attack, and with each attack, he gets faster and faster. 

you let him stab his knife into your shoulder, as you stab the knife deep into his stomach. staring at him centimeters away. the way his eyes roll at the pain, he’s a masochist. entertained by his own pain, and others. you let the knife continue to sink into him being pulling it back out. 

the blood pooling from his shirt, dripping onto the ground. his knife stuck into your shoulder. he grabs a longer blade off a shelf, you stumble backwards a bit. the pain of the shoulder making you hold onto his blade. better to keep it in, than to let it bleed out. 

his eyes gleaming with joy as he wields a katana now in hand, you stare at it, watching the way he moves his grip, adjusting it. all the while kenji steps near him, eyes squinted as he watches his brother wield a katana.

you heave a bit, your left shoulder feeling weak from the knife lodged within. you back up a bit as they both share a look, both their eyes wild, but for different reason.

you put your right arm up, readying yourself for an attack from them both, 

but then it turns into a bloodfest.

kenji, in a quick rotating turn, grabs the katana straight from kaito’s hands and stabs the long katana into his brother. cutting through him in the chest. his brother’s eyes go wide. 

“you, you, you!” kaito’s hands fly towards the katana trying to pull it out, kenji only stabs it into his body further.

“any last words brother?” kenji lets out a little smile, as kaito falls backward his hand outreached towards kenji, blood gurgling in his mouth. his body going limp on the floor.

kenji then he turns to you. 

“thank you for that, let’s let the real fun begin.” he says, pulling the katana out of his brother’s now lifeless body. all the while you’re trying to make sure that none of your kids are seeing this brutal scene, you can hear their small cries.

he crosses the room in a few steps, trying with all his force to slam the katana over your head, you hold with everything in you against it, fighting it with ever muscle fibers in your body. being brought abruptly with the downwards force of his slash. 

knees nearly buckling under the force. he continues to drive the katana deeper, you barely hold on, begging for something to hold.

letting the sweat continue to bead across your forehead, calves and thighs straining in pressure, and at last he lets go. a short knife sent straight at his heart. his eyes nearly bulging out as he grasps onto his shirt, his heart bleeding out. and you collapse onto the ground. 

the adrenaline pumping through your body, and all the pain of the fight coming back to feeling. you stare at the ceiling as people start piling in. you roll your head over, the sight of the minatozaki crest upon the back of the people. 

one in particular sticks out, sana’s mother. taking the knife from his heart and stabbing into it once more. “i pity you abe boys, killing one of your own.” she says before taking the knife out once more.

“take the kids away.” you put your hand up, and immediately the guards back up. you roll your head the other way, beckoning the kids forward. haruto wailing as he falls atop your body, and little hanako staring straight at you, before joining her brother.

you smile at them both, caressing their faces, giving them kisses as tears fall down your face. they’re okay, they’re safe.

you can feel the exhaustion finally seeping in, continuing to brush their hair out their face. as your eyes roll back, and then you’re out.

--

your eyes open to the bright light of the hospital room, one that you previously were in for momo and mina. the windows are open, a slight wind blowing against the curtains. a bunch of fruit baskets laying at the table near your feet. clearly you’ve had some visitors.

mouth drier than a desert as you try and grab a glass of water nearby. your whole body hurts, every part of it hurts. you grunt a bit reaching the full glass, getting some needed hydration.

and this searing headache that you can feel isn’t making it any better. you try your best to look around, vision still a bit blurry. then they refocus on a figure in the chair near you.

sana’s here.

you blink a few more times, eyes getting sharper, until you can see her features clearly. it’s a gorgeous sight after nearly being killed. although she looks mad at you, her eyes in fury. the same fury you saw when she found out you had her tailed.

she stares at you, getting up when she notices you’re awake, towering over you.

“you idiot!” she shouts at you. tears in her eyes already, you try your best to move but everything hurts so much.

“sana. please.” you raise your hand, outreached towards her. she storms out of the room, the door slamming open as she rushes outside. 

then sana’s mother enters the room. a limping momo trailing behind her. both women rounding the side of the bed that sana was in seconds ago. sana’s mother doesn’t display much emotion, but momo seems rather amused.

“sana’s furious, swore she would kill you if you died to the brothers.” she explains, her hands folded behind her as she stares at your patient monitor, a small smile on her hand. “you did well kid.”

“doesn’t seem like it.” you say, feeling the pain of your left shoulder still burning. a searing pain even as you try and relax. she shakes her head no, momo’s staring at your bandaged body. your injuries much like hers, minus the bruised ribs. to which you have to be thankful for. you think back to the room, how dark it was in their study. the sight of your kids cowering in fear deep in the back corner of the room, their small eyes staring at you in relief when they saw you enter.

you hope they never remember this event, and most of all that they didn’t see anything.

you know that you’ll forever live with this memory, the scars, the bloodshed, the pain. all of it will live through you and hopefully only you. a reason that you went straight for the abe brothers, without giving sana a chance to even follow. you don’t want her to deal with the repercussions of the deaths that were bound to happen. to put ease into her mind, you would shoulder the world for her.

a true testimony of your devotion to sana.

“you did it for sana, didn’t you?” 

momo’s words bring you out of your thoughts, and you nod, because it’s true. sana is everything and more, someone that you find yourself leaning on when things get rough. you want her to never experience the sights of the killings. those night terrors were enough to snap you awake, you feel protective of her. wanting her peace to remain for however long she lives.

“she called me and mina up, begging us with her snotty voice to save you.” momo says, a little too serious for your taste. “she begged, sana is not one to beg. she loves you as much as you love her.” 

“i know.” 

momo rolls her eyes.

“what i’m trying to say is, despite how mad she may be at you, she loves you, even this part of you that wants to shoulder all her burdens.” momo explains. and you listen intently. 

“when she told me that you were going to marry her, i always wondered why. but now i know, you mean every word you say. there’s no games with you. in this world, all there is are games, everyone has their motives, their greed, their lust. but you speak from the heart, and that’s all sana wants, someone genuine. their love as obvious as their words.”

you nearly choke up at the words, it’s a feeling that you’ve been thinking about lately. ever since sana’s mother explained why she chose you (sana as well). 

“thank you momo.” and with a small nod she leaves the hospital room.

you feel like you haven’t deserved the love that sana gives you, as much as you want to. just not understanding why, but it’s clear, even in this dark and cruel world that you’ve been married into.

you sob openly, just letting the tears of everything that’s been building up in you fall like flowing feelings. all the pain and suffering of being married into this family, the strange stares from outsiders. enduring the rigorous training from momo and mina all in order to become someone strong enough for this family, all those nights you had to hold a crying sana.

--

“you are an absolute idiot.” you get wheeled outside, sitting in your hospital gown as you get placed next to sana’s bench. there’s tears still in her eyes, and she refuses to look at you.

“i know, i’m sorry.” you respond.

“what if you died? what if they killed you and the kids? what am i supposed to do then?” she exclaims, tears gushing from her eyes. tissues in her hands as she stares at them.

“i, i don’t know. i didn’t think that far. i just knew i had to save them.” you explain, trying your best to not pick at the IV needle. 

“i should kill you myself, sending yourself on a suicide mission.” she bites out, an anger you haven’t heard in months. you just nod letting her continue to talk. “i stayed outside, momo holding me back. and then i saw haruto running towards me, tears in his eyes.”

you nod, feeling a deep shame running through your body, hoping that he didn’t see anything.

“he just kept saying you saved him and hanako, i thought you died in there. but you didn’t. you didn’t die in there, and you saved them too.”

“i did what i needed to do.” sana continues to speak over you.

“and i’m frustrated, because it should’ve been us saving them together, but you shouldered all my burdens once again. you took on this marriage which saved me from marrying kaito, and you continue to shoulder my burdens even now.”

“because i love you sana.” you declare. “it isn’t a burden to me because i love you. and i always will sana, until death do us part, i promised to love you forevermore, and i choose you as my partner.” you pull yourself in front of her. 

“i want everything with you, even in sickness and in health, all these vows i said during our wedding, i didn’t know it then, but i know it now. i mean every single word!” you cry out.

you stare at her, and her eyes lift up at yours, you wipe the tears off her face. a small smile on her face as she kisses you, even with salty tears rolling down.

--

a/n: the series is finished! hehehee, i left an easter egg!! message me if u figure it out :P, also thank you to the lovely @d3viant0n3 for helping me move this series forward, forever thankful <3 as well as my moots for listening to my troubles w this fic (forgot to mention!! dragon back tattoo is @cry4mina's idea) LOL and as always, stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

[nahoney22]

In the Shadows*** 🌊

🫧 Pairings: Crosshair X AU Princess F!Reader

word count: 8.8k words

prompts:

• “When can I see you again?” / “Do you want to?”

• “I’ll be everything you ever wanted. I’ll do anything you’ve ever desired.”

Having Clone Force 99 protect you felt like an honour; falling for one of them was a curse.

warnings: NSFW, 18+ only, Smut, Royalty/Princess Trope, AU, First time, virgin reader, Flirty/Explicit Massages, Second Guessing, Cunnilingus, Blowjob, Soft and Rough Sex, P in V Sex, Doggy style, missionary, cowgirl positions Explicit Sexual Content & Language, aftercare, nipple play, Forbidden Love/Relationship, light angst.

Being royalty definitely had its perks. Yet, the things you most wanted in life were often just out of reach. Freedom was one of them. With guards always monitoring you, you were rarely alone. You were surprised that nobody was stationed in your bed chamber when you slept but you were grateful for the latter.

Oh, and there was also the constant threat to your life. A downside that came with the crown.

So that means that every week, your family contacted the Grand Army of the Republic to hire a battalion of soldiers to test their skills. A group would stay and, as you put it, ‘babysit’ you. This week was no different.

You sat outside in the expansive gardens, a sanctuary of serenity and the only time you felt a small sense of freedom. Vibrant flowers of every hue bloomed in meticulous arrangements by the hired garden hands. Tall hedges formed intricate mazes which had been around since you were young, and a grand fountain with crystal-clear water added a soothing soundtrack to the peace.

As you basked outside alone in your thoughts, you noticed four tall, armoured soldiers approaching. You squinted against the sun, using your hand to shield your eyes. “I thought they said they were clones…” you murmured to yourself.

And they were. Just different.

There was Hunter, the leader. He spoke directly but had a kindness in his eyes that set you at ease. Wrecker was tall and intimidating at first glance, but his loud voice was tempered by his kind heart and Tech intrigued you with his constant stream of information.

Then there was Crosshair.

He was different.

Every time you looked his way (to which you had even caught yourself watching and almost being enamoured by him on several occasions), you noticed several things. One of them being that he moved with a lethal grace. His eyes are always scanning, calculating; never certain what is on his mind. His presence was both unsettling and somehow captivating even if his company was less than comforting at times.

However every time Crosshair’s eyes had met yours for a brief moment, his gaze was intense. As if he could see through the layers of your royal facade. It was a look that made you feel exposed and protected all at once. A paradox you couldn’t quite understand. Did he know you were lonely? Was he lonely?

Throughout the week, each clone took a shift to watch over you. You were surprised to see that most of them enjoyed striking up conversations, which made the constant supervision more tolerable.

All except for Crosshair.

Despite his silence, Crosshair was the one you always looked forward to being alone with. His shift came in the evenings, just after Wrecker’s. Most evenings, you spent your time in the library, surrounded by towering bookshelves filled with ancient tomes about your family’s history. The room was a haven of knowledge, illuminated by the soft, golden glow of ornate lamps. The scent of old flimsi and polished wood filled the air, a comforting presence in your otherwise restrictive life. It was definitely your favourite room within your home.

As you sat on a deep emerald couch, nestled in the corner by the large window that overlooked the gardens, you often stole glances at Crosshair. He stood in the shadows, his posture rigid, eyes constantly scanning the room like a suited knight in armour. And each time you looked at him, his piercing gaze met yours, unwavering and intense as usual.

“You’re quiet today, Crosshair,” you said one evening, possibly the second night, setting down your book and reclining on the plush golden cushions.

He turned his head slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. “I am always quiet.”

You rolled your eyes, noting that he hadn’t caught your sarcastic tone, but you smiled nonetheless. “Too quiet. Won’t you sit with me?”

He stiffened, a slight tension visible in his stance. “I am on duty.”

“It’s 2100 hours. I doubt anyone will interrupt us.” Your voice carried a hint of unintended flirtation, and you noticed his brow raise slightly, his fingers drumming along the stock of his rifle.

“I doubt it too, but regardless, I am on duty, Princess.”

The way he said ‘princess’ was different from anyone else. There was a playful edge to his tone that made your stomach flutter, and you felt a warm prickle spread across your skin.

You pursed your lips, pondering. “Why do you not talk as much as the others?”

He blinked, his expression remaining stoic, before shrugging slightly. “I usually don’t have much worthwhile to say.”

“No stories? No grand explanation on why you shouldn’t do x, y, and z with some shuttles compared to others?” you teased, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

He chuckled and for some reason you gathered that it was a rare sound. It sent a shiver down your spine and even made your cheeks warm. The sight of his smirk was also unexpectedly captivating. “You have been talking too much to Tech.”

“I think it’s Tech talking too much to me,” you replied with a grin.

Crosshair’s eyes softened slightly, and for a moment, the stoic mask he wore seemed to crack. Each night on duty, you seemed to chip away at that mask, revealing glimpses of the man beneath the soldier.

It was on the sixth evening that a significant shift occurred between you and Crosshair. As usual, you were in the library when he entered. Instead of positioning himself in his usual corner, you were present surprised as he stood closer, practically next to the couch you were cosied up on.

You smiled up at him. “Want to sit?” you asked, patting the spot beside you.

“I don’t think that would be appropriate,” he stated, though it didn’t sound like a flat refusal.

You licked your teeth thoughtfully, your eyes tracing his tall, lean form. Tilting your head to the side, you continued, “But you want to be near me.”

“I am always near you.”

“But tonight you’re closer than before,” you countered, noting the coy smile that played on his lips.

He shifted slightly. “I thought you’d appreciate talking to me as I stand next to you rather than across the room.”

You moved closer to the edge of the couch, turning your body towards him. Your dress rode up a little, exposing more of your leg, and you batted your eyelashes at him. “And now you are too tall and hurting my neck. Please?” you asked, patting the spot beside you once more.

You saw him close his eyes briefly, a soft sigh escaping his lips before he leaned his rifle against the wall and sat beside you. He leaned forward, hands clasped together, and for the first time, he appeared nervous.

“So, how was your day?” you asked cheerfully. Crosshair wanted to roll his eyes but held back, mindful of the respect due to your royal status.

To Crosshair, it felt strange—almost surreal—that someone of your stature would ask about his day. He had always been told that himself and his brothers, even the regs, were bred for war. Viewed nothing more expendable tools of the Republic. He had always been surrounded by Jedi, Generals and Commanders who saw him as just another operative, valued for his skills but not for his individuality. That’s it.

He glanced at you, your eager eyes waiting for his response. “Routine,” he said after a moment. “Same as usual. And yours?”

Your eyes sparkled with interest. “Busy, as always. Meetings, formal dinners, and endless discussions about diplomacy.” You paused, your eyes softening. “It’s refreshing to talk about something different for a change.”

Crosshair studied you, noting the way your shoulders relaxed and the genuine smile on your lips. He found himself rather intrigued by your openness. “I suppose our routines are different,” he grunts.

You nodded. “They are, but I imagine both come with their own set of challenges.”

He allowed himself a small smile. “You could say that.”

There was a comfortable silence as you both sat there, the warmth of the fire casting a gentle glow over the room. Crosshair found himself unexpectedly at ease.

“So,” you began, breaking the silence after a few minutes, “tell me something about yourself that I wouldn’t know.”

Crosshair raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “There isn’t much to tell. I’m a soldier. That’s all I’ve ever been.”

You leaned closer, your curiosity evident. “Surely there’s more to you than that. What about before the war? Any hobbies? Interests?”

He hesitated, then said, “I used to enjoy marksmanship drills. It was... calming. A way to focus.”

You smiled. “I can see that. It suits you.”

As the conversation continued, Crosshair began to open up more, the initial awkwardness fading. For the first time, he felt seen—not as a clone, but as an individual. It was only small but there was a significant shift.

Perhaps a deeper feeling was emerging after all these late night talks.

After a while, you shifted slightly, your dress slipping higher up your leg. You didn’t notice at first but when you turn to look back at Crosshair, his gaze was lingering there. You say nothing at first, feeling a heat grow in your stomach as you watch how his eyes darken - just for a moment - before he quickly looked away.

A playful idea crossed your mind, and you decided to test the waters.

“Crosshair,” you said softly, leaning in a little closer, “would you give me a massage? My legs are terribly sore from all the formal events.”

His eyes widened slightly, and you saw the conflict in his expression. He clearly wanted to, but his sense of duty held him back. “I... I can’t,” he said, his voice strained. “It wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“Please?” you asked once more, your voice a soft purr as you looked up at him through your lashes.

He swallowed hard, his resolve visibly weakening. “Princess, I am on duty,” he said, though his voice was huskier now, betraying his inner struggle. “And it would be dishonorable. I... I can’t.”

You pouted playfully, but inside, you admired his steadfastness, even if it meant denying something you both wanted. “Ever the soldier,” you murmured, leaning back and giving him a small, understanding smile.

Crosshair’s eyes lingered on you a moment longer, briefly scanning your plump and soft lips that he found himself foolishly wanting to kiss before he tore his gaze away, his hands clenched together as if to keep them from reaching out to you. The tension in the room was palpable, a mix of unspoken desire and restrained propriety. It was a delicate balance, one that both thrilled and really frustrated you.

You were awakening a side of him he kept buried, and in return, he was stirring emotions within you that you had long suppressed. After all, how often was it you were with another man who wasn’t a guard unchaperoned? You definitely never had feelings towards any of them but to you? He was beautiful. With Crosshair, you felt normal, something you had always yearned for in the rigid constraints of being royalty. But he ignited another, more primal desire within you—lust.

The way his eyes lingered on you, dark and intense that you found yourself burning up under his gaze. It was clear he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

Yet, the cruel reality was that tomorrow would be the last night. Would you ever even see him again?

It seemed as though he could read your mind. Clearing his throat, he turned his body towards you, the intensity of his eyes making your pulse quicken. “Do you still require a massage?” he asked, watching you closely. Your fingers had been absentmindedly playing with the ends of your hair for the last few minutes, a normal habit that seemed to make his heart rate pound.

“Please don’t feel obliged to do that for me just because I asked,” you reassured him, your voice soft. “I only asked because...” you trailed off, your thoughts a chaotic mix of emotions you couldn’t entirely decipher.

“Because you like me,” he said boldly, a spark of confidence in his eyes. You watched in silent awe as he deftly pulled something from a pouch in his armor—a toothpick. He placed it between his lips with a casual and almsot suave ease.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing. “I value you, yes,” you managed to say, your voice betraying your nerves. But then you met his gaze once more, and a surge of courage flared within you. “And I think you would like to give me a massage,” you continued, a smirk curling at the corners of your lips.

Crosshair’s eyes darkened, the toothpick shifting slightly as he bit down on it. “Is that so?” he murmured.

“Yes,” you replied, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “I think you want to touch me.”

He inhaled sharply, the tension between you palpable. “You’re playing with fire, Princess,” he warned, but his words lacked conviction, his eyes betraying his desire.

“Maybe,” you teased, leaning closer, your leg now brushing against his. “But it’s a risk I’m willing to take. Are you?”

For a moment, he hesitated, the internal struggle evident in his eyes. Then, with a resigned sigh, he placed his hand gently on your calf, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. “I suppose one massage wouldn’t hurt,” he murmured, his voice husky.

You smiled, your pulse quickening as his fingers began to knead the tension from your muscles. “Good,” you whispered, your voice laced with anticipation as you leaned back, relaxing.

Crosshair’s eyes followed the path of his hands as they moved up your calf, his breath hitching as you let out a soft moan of pleasure. His fingers were firm and skillful, each touch sending ripples of sensation through your body. You didn't hold back, your moans growing louder, each one making his arousal more evident. His pants felt increasingly tight, the bulge in them unmistakable.

“You’re making it hard to concentrate, Princess,” he murmured, his voice strained with desire.

“I can only apologise,” you replied, your voice breathy as you reveled in the feel of his hands on you. “I’m just showing you what you do to me.”

His hands moved higher, massaging your knee before traveling up your thigh. Your dress rode up further, and he paused, his eyes locked on the exposed skin. He bit down on his toothpick, his restraint hanging by a thread.

You open your eyes only to find yourself biting your lip as you watch as he slips his hands free from his gloves, laying them over the arm of the couch before his fingers start to knead at your calf. His touch is firm yet careful, his fingers working the tension from your muscles with practiced ease. You let out a soft sigh, sinking deeper into the couch, your eyes fluttering closed.

“This is a dangerous game we’re playing, Princess,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. “You know this is breaking every rule.”

“And yet here you are,” you reply, a playful lilt in your voice. “Breaking them with me.”

He smirks, his hands moving up to your knee, massaging in slow, deliberate circles. “It seems I can’t help myself,” he admits, his eyes blown. “You’re... quite persuasive.”

You arch an eyebrow, feeling a thrill of power at his words. “Am I now? I merely asked you the once” you tease, shifting slightly to allow his hands better access.

He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, his hands continue their upward journey, fingers brushing along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You feel a rush of heat as he inches closer to the apex of your legs, his touch sending sparks of electricity through your body.

“You know exactly what you’re doing,” he whispers softly, his hands moving higher, and you hold your gasp as you realise how dangerously close he was to your… intimate area. Every nerve ending in your body is awakened by his touch.

"And you're enjoying it," you whisper back, your voice husky with need.

Stars, what kind of hold did he have on you? You were royalty, trained all your life to be reserved and appropriate, yet here you were, parting your legs to give him silent permission to continue. The boldness of your action sends a thrill through you, a heady mix of fear and excitement that makes your heart race.

His hands pause for a moment, his gaze flicking to meet yours. It is obvious you are exposed to him now as his eyes drop between your legs, his hand moving your dress just enough to touch. He lets out a soft moan, the sound making you inevitably clench. Your silk panties, enticing and damp with arousal, has him stopping in his tracks.

It's his turn to bite his lip, almost snapping the toothpick in his mouth as his fingers flex, eager to reach out and brush against you. The sight of his struggle, the raw want in his eyes, sends a fresh wave of heat through you. But then, he closes his eyes, a pained expression crossing his face. "Tell me to stop."

His resolve is being rebuilt, a fortress against the growing storm of his desire. Despite the desperation coursing through your veins, you do as he pleads. "You can stop."

Despite your words, it takes him a moment or two to retract his hand, pulling your dress back down slowly to restore your dignity. "I'm sorry, Princess."

There's guilt on his face, and your heart sinks. You pull your legs back away from him and sit forward, gently taking his hand. "You have no reason to apologise. I... I should have realised this was foolish." You scold yourself, closing your eyes tightly. "I do not want to compromise your position."

"My position?" he snaps at you, causing you to flinch slightly. The regret in his gaze is immediate. "What about you? You're the Princess. If I got caught with you you'd be ruined." His tone softens as he continues, the anger melting into concern.

The air between you is thick with unspoken desires, the weight of what could have been pressing down on both of you. Crosshair's hand remains in yours, his grip firm yet gentle, as if he's holding on to the last shred of his self-control. His eyes, filled with a mix of longing and frustration, meet yours.

"Princess," he murmurs, his voice low and rough, "this is going to be forward but I've never wanted anything more in my life. But I can't... I can't risk you."

You nod, your throat tightening. "I understand. But just for tonight, can we forget who we are? Just be two people, enjoying each other's company?"

His eyes search yours, and after a moment, he nods slowly. "Just for tonight."

Saying goodbye to Crosshair was inevitable, but it was the last thing you wanted to do. You had already said your farewells to the others, and now it was just Crosshair’s turn.

The two of you didn’t speak of what had happened the night before, yet the tension between you lingered in the air, thick and palpable. As usual, after your time spent in the library, he escorted you back to your bedchambers. This time, though, the walk was slower, each step a heavy reminder of what was about to end.

Neither of you said anything as your door came into view. You stopped, and Crosshair halted just a few steps beside you, the silence stretching painfully.

“When can I see you again?” you whispered, not daring to look in his direction. You heard him take a small step closer, his gaze boring into the back of your head, his presence a comforting shadow.

“Do you want to?”

“Of course I do,” you said, exasperated, finally finding the strength to look at him. “I don’t even want to say goodbye.”

Crosshair bit the inside of his cheek, his eyes narrowing. “You will have a new set of clones sent next week… you may form a bond with one of them too.”

Ouch. “W-Why are you saying that?”

He sighed and took your arm gently, guiding you into a shadowed corner away from any prying eyes or ears. His touch was firm yet tender, sending shivers down your spine. “I think you’re lonely, Princess… and I was just a distraction.”

Your eyes welled up, tears threatening to spill. Crosshair had never hated a sight more. “No, Crosshair, you weren’t just a distraction for me. I…”

“What?” he probed swiftly, his body almost pressed against yours as your back met the wall, the heat radiating from him almost too much to bear.

You searched his eyes, your lips parting as you subtly inhaled his scent, memorizing his gaze, for possibly the last time. “I think you already know.”

Crosshair was silent, not a rarity, but you could see the emotions flashing across his face. He took your hand and brought your knuckles to his lips, his breath warm and tantalizing. “I know.”

The moment hung heavy between you, charged with unspoken words and suppressed desires. His lips lingered on your skin, the gentle pressure sending a thrill through you. Your heart pounded in your chest as his hand slid up your arm, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His other hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Crying over me, Princess?”

You leaned into his touch, a soft but sad smile granted at his words. “Just a little.”

Closing your eyes briefly, you savoured the feeling of his touch. When you opened them again, his face was inches from yours, his breath dancing with your own.

Your lips parted slightly, an invitation that he hesitated to accept. His eyes darted to your mouth, his resolve crumbling as he leaned in, the pull between you undeniable. Just as his lips were about to claim yours, you felt the weight of reality crashing down.

“I can’t,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “This is too much.”

You pulled back, the pain of the separation cutting deep. Crosshair's hand dropped to his side, his expression a mix of longing and resignation.

“Goodbye, Crosshair,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, stepping back to give you space. “Goodbye, Princess.”

With a heavy heart, you turned and entered your bedchamber without another word. Honestly, you had never hated being a Princess more than ever before.

“Is there something wrong, my lady?”

You stood staring at yourself in the mirror for, well, you weren’t sure how long but it was long enough to raise concerns. Your handmaiden had just assisted you with getting dressed in your nightwear—a beautiful soft nightdress of the finest silk, the fabric a delicate shade of ivory. It flowed gracefully over your form, hugging your curves subtly, with intricate lace detailing along the neckline and hem and stopped just above your knees.

Your hands played with the fabric and you can’t help but wonder what it’d feel like to have his hands on you. It’d be inappropriate for anyone to see you in a state of undress but you got the warm feeling in your gut that he would undress you even further.

You sigh softly to yourself, Crosshair replaying in your mind on a constant loop. His touch from the massage, his words, the intensity of the almost-kiss—it all haunted you, refusing to let you rest. You barely noticed your handmaiden’s presence until she laid a gentle hand on your shoulder, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Would you like me to get someone for you?” she asked softly, her concern evident in her eyes.

You turned to her, the turmoil of your emotions barely concealed. “No, thank you. I’m just… distracted, I suppose.”

“Is there anything I can do to help, my lady?”

You remain tight lipped, glancing back at your reflection. The nightdress, so elegant and pure, seemed almost a mockery of the confusion and desire within you. “No, it’s something I need to work through on my own.”

She nodded, stepping back respectfully. “Of course, my lady. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call.”

“Thank you,” you said, offering her a small, grateful smile. “That will be all for tonight.”

With a curtsy, she left you alone in your chambers, the silence and stillness pressing in around you. You moved to your bed, the cool sheets an almost embarrassing contrast to the heat of your thoughts.

For an hour, you tossed and turned, staring at the canopy above your head. Frustration clawed at you, and at one point, you grabbed your pillow, pressing it over your face and screaming into it to release the pent-up emotions.

Just as exhaustion began to tug at you, a faint tap at the door leading to the balcony broke through the haze of near-sleep. You squinted into the darkness, unsure if you were hearing things, but the tap came again, as if a pebble was being thrown at it.

Instinctively, you would have called out for a guard, alerting them to a possible threat. But something in your gut told you not to. Trusting that intuition, you crawled out of bed, grabbing a gown and draping it over your nightdress.

As you opened the door to your balcony, you hesitated for a moment but you threw caution to the wind and wanted to see for yourself. You stepped out onto the balcony, the cool stone beneath your bare feet grounding you. At first you saw nothing but then, you spotted him.

Below, emerging from the shadows, stood Crosshair. “Crosshair? W-What’re you doing here?” you whisper-shouted down to him, checking the coast was clear.

“Honestly? I don’t know. Hunter is going to kill me and possibly your family, but I had to see you,” he replied, his eyes scanning the area too for any signs of danger.

Your heart swelled, and your eyes twinkled with raw emotion. “Am I really worth that risk?”

“For you?” He chuckled softly, his voice carrying a warmth that made your heart flutter. “Anything.”

Without another thought, you motioned for him to come up. Crosshair scaled the trellis with practiced ease, and within moments, he stood before you on the balcony, his tall form casting a shadow in the moonlight.

The tension from earlier, the unspoken words and desires, hung thick in the air. You stepped closer to him, your hand reaching out to touch his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. “You came back.”

He nodded. You can tell he wasn’t used to showing such affection as his hand, shaking, lays over the top of yours that was against his chest, holding it closer to his heart. “I couldn’t stay away it seems.l

The intensity in his eyes made your knees weak. “What if we’re caught?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t care,” he said, his tone fierce yet tender. “I’d rather face the consequences than spend another night without you.”

Without saying another word, your lips met in a frenzy of raw passion and need.

He guided you back into the room, not once parting his lips from yours, and shut the door to the balcony behind him.

His hands took refuge on your hips, pulling you closer as he met your gaze briefly, as if to reassure himself that you were real, before he kissed you again with renewed hunger.

You groaned into his embrace, your body flush against his as the moonlight danced through the cracks in your curtains, casting a silvery glow over your entwined forms. With a soft sigh, you let your tongue run against his bottom lip, and his knees almost buckled at the sensation.

He allowed you access, and your tongues swirled and danced together. Your hands roamed up and down his body, only now realising he wore no armour, just his long black one-piece that most clones wore underneath. This allowed you to feel his slender, toned figure beneath your fingers, the warmth of his skin radiating through the fabric.

“Like what you feel?” he rasped against your mouth as you moaned at the mere touch of him.

“Very much so,” you smiled, both of you pulling away for a much-needed breath.

His eyes roamed your figure, a smirk on his lips and in his eyes. “It feels wrong of me to see you dressed this way,” he muttered, pinching the fabric of your nightdress between his fingers softly. “You look so innocent.”

“Are you saying I didn’t look that way before?” you hummed, a teasing lilt to your voice.

“I suppose you did,” he started before he leans in, his lips trailing down to your neck, leaving a burning path in their wake, “but your mind isn’t so pure.”

A shiver ran down your spine as his mouth worked its way along your neck, planting hot, open-mouthed kisses that sent jolts of pleasure coursing through you. He nipped at your skin, sucking and leaving marks that would remind you of this night. Then, his hand slipped under your nightdress, the cool touch of his fingers against your heated skin making you gasp.

“You like that?” he murmured against your ear, his voice low and gravelly. “You like feeling my hands on you, knowing you’re mine right now, Princess?”

“Yes,” you breathed, your hands gripping his shoulders as his fingers squeezed your arse, pulling you even closer. You could feel his erection straining against his pants, the hard length pressing into you.

You could feel yourself dampen, your pussy throbbing with a desperate need to be met. “Take me to my bed.”

“As you command.” He wasted no time in lifting you up, carrying you across the threshold before laying you down in the middle of the bed. He leaned over, grabbed a pillow to tuck under your head, then crawled over the top of you, claiming your lips once more.

You moaned his name into his mouth, your leg hooking around his waist and bringing him flush to you. You couldn’t help the way your hips ground against his thigh, the friction making you gasp against his lips. “Tell me what you want, beautiful.” He cupped your jaw, his tongue hot and trailing over your lips with teasing flicks. “I’ll be everything you’ve ever wanted. I’ll do anything you’ve ever desired.”

You closed your eyes and let out a breathless sigh. “Do what you wanted to do to me in the library.”

He pulled back, tilting his head down at you. “Tell me first, Princess,” his tone soft, “have you done this before?”

You swallowed and nervously shook your head. “No. But I want to.” You replied, reaching your hand up and touching his cheek, tracing your thumb across the bottom of his tattoo. “With you.”

A cocky and satisfied smile spread across his lips, his fingers slipping under the hem of your nightdress and moving up your thighs.

You trembled beneath his touch as he bunched the fabric around your hips, revealing your bare pussy to him. “Stars, you’re beautiful,” he groaned, his eyes darkening with lust as he spread your legs wider, settling himself between them. His mind flashed back to the moment in the library, when he saw your silk panties and how desperately he craved to taste you. And now, that time has finally come.

He pressed soft, teasing kisses along your inner thighs, making you squirm with anticipation. “Patience, Princess,” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and tantalising. “I want to savour this.”

You whimpered, your fingers tangling in the sheets as he finally reached your core, his tongue flicking out to taste you. The sensation made you cry out, your back arching off the bed. “Crosshair,” you moaned, your voice desperate and needy.

His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he licked and sucked at your clit, intense and with precision. “You taste so sweet,” he mewls against you, the vibrations sending shivers through you. “I could stay here all night.”

You were lost in a haze of pleasure for an incredible few minutes, your body writhing beneath him as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. “Please,” you gasped, your hands clutching at his head. “I need more.”

He looked up at you through your legs, his eyes burning into you. “As you wish, beautiful.” He brought his hands up, tugging the top of your nightdress down to expose your breasts. You gasp at the sudden chill but then moan as his fingers begin to play with your nipples, rolling and pinching them as he continues to devour you.

You cried out at the dual sensations, your hips bucking against his mouth. “Oh, fuck,” you slipped, the curse word escaping before you could stop it.

Crosshair’s eyes flashed with something primal at your slip of the tongue, and he responded with a feral groan. “Such a dirty mouth for a Princess,” he taunted, his fingers slipping inside you, curling and thrusting in time with his tongue’s ministrations.

Your legs turned to jelly, your body trembling uncontrollably as he finger-fucked you with relentless rigour. “Crosshair!” you screamed, your voice hoarse with pleasure. “Oh, fuck, don’t stop!”

He didn’t, his mouth and fingers working in perfect harmony to push you over the edge. Your climax hit you like a tidal wave, your entire body shaking with the force of it as you cried out his name again and again, thighs threatening to close between over his head as cum all over his mouth.

He held you through it, his movements slowing as you came down from your high, your body limp and sedated beneath him. He pressed a soft kiss to your inner thigh before pulling back. “I could get used to hearing you scream my name,” he murmured, his fingers trailing lightly over your sensitive skin.

“Me too,” you gasped, sitting up on your elbows as he moved to lay beside you. “That was… I can't even explain.”

“Did you enjoy it?” he asked softly, laying his hand over the top of yours.

“Loved it.” You grinned, but there was something you now wanted to try. Your eyes drifted down to the obvious bulge in his blacks, your breath hitching with anticipation. You bit your lip, your fingers tracing the outline of his arousal through the fabric. “I think it’s time I return the favor.”

Crosshair's eyes haze over with lust as he watched you. “Princess, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” you interrupted, your voice filled with a mix of determination and nervous excitement. You both sit up, Crosshair watching you in awe as you help him slip out of his glove, your fingers brushing against his skin as you expose his toned chest. Your hands moved lower, tugging down his lower half and freeing him from the confines. His erection sprang free, and you couldn’t help but marvel at his size and the throbbing need you saw in his eyes.

“You’re so hard,” you whispered, your voice laced with hunger. “I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel.”

He groaned, his hands clenching the sheets as you wrapped your fingers around his length, giving him a tentative stroke. “Princess…”

You leaned in, your breath warm against his skin as you began to place soft kisses along his shaft. “Do you like this?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” he hissed, his hips bucking slightly as you took him into your mouth. He lays back down as you start slow, your tongue swirling around the tip, tasting his salty essence. You glanced up at him, his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

Encouraged, you took him deeper, your lips stretching around his girth. You hollowed your cheeks, creating a delicious suction that made him groan loudly. “Oh fuck,” he muttered, his hands tangling in your hair as he struggled to keep control.

You began to bob your head, your hand pumping the base of his cock in rhythm with your mouth. The sounds you made were wet and obscene, if someone were to press their ear against the door they’d definitely hear what was going on but it only spurred you on. You could feel his body tensing, his muscles straining as he fought to hold back.

Wanting to drive him wild, you let your other hand gently cup his balls, rolling them in your palm. You felt his entire body shudder, his grip on your hair tightening. “Oh baby, that feels good,” he groaned, his voice a deep rasp.

Feeling a surge of confidence, you pulled back slightly, letting your tongue trail down to his balls. You kissed and sucked on them, your hand still working his shaft. The combination of your antics had him thrashing, his moans growing louder and louder. Your lips, covered in spit, move back to his cock as you then take him deeper, your throat relaxing as you push yourself to take more of him. His cock hit the back of your throat, and you gagged slightly, but the sound only seemed to excite him more. “Princess, you’re g-going, shit, to make me cum,” he warned, his voice strained.

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with determination. “That’s exactly what I want,” you whispered, before taking him back into your mouth with renewed vigour. You used your hand to stroke the length you couldn’t fit, your fingers squeezing and twisting in a way that made him gasp.

Then, in a moment of boldness, you shifted your attention lower, letting your tongue trail down to his balls once more. You took one into your mouth, sucking gently while your hand continued to pump his shaft. The sound that ripped from his throat was almost primal, his body trembling as his orgasm was closing in.

“Fuck, Princess,” he groaned, his hips jerking involuntarily as you lavished attention on his sensitive skin. “That feels so fucking good.”

You could feel his balls tightening in your hand, his entire body tensing as he reached his peak. With one final, desperate thrust, he came, spilling himself into your mouth. You swallowed as much as you could, the taste of him filling your senses.

When he finally stilled, you pulled back, licking your lips and meeting his gaze. His cocky demeanor was shattered, replaced by a look of bewilderment and satisfaction. “Baby,” he breathed, “You’re incredible.”

You smiled, crawling up to lay beside him, your head resting on his chest. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you whispered, feeling a sense of pride. Truthfully, you never thought you’d be able to do this. Especially having brought him so much pleasure.

“Do you want to take it a step further?” Crosshair asks, his eyes searching yours as you nestle into his chest, “Do you want me to fuck you?”

Your heart races at his words, a mix of excitement and nervousness flooding your senses. “Yes,” you whisper, your voice tight with anticipation.

He cups your cheek gently, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Are you sure my sweet? This is your first time.”

“I’m sure,” you reply, your voice growing more confident. “I want you, Crosshair.”

A smile spreads across his lips as he moves to hover above you. He kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hand slides down your body to your pussy once again. You part your legs, his fingers finding your wetness. “Mmm, you’re so ready for me,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice a low growl.

His fingers tease your slit, rubbing gently before slipping inside you to prepare you for his length. You gasp and grin at the sensation, your body tensing slightly. It felt amazing but perhaps your nerves were getting the better of you.

“Relax,” he whispers, his lips moving to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses. “I’ll take care of you.”

“I trust you.”

He continues to caress you, his fingers working you open as his thumb circles your clit. The pleasure builds, making you moan softly. When he feels you’re ready, he positions himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock teasing your opening.

“This might hurt a little,” he warns, his eyes locking with yours. “But I promise it’ll feel good soon.”

You nod, bracing yourself. He pushes into you slowly, stretching you inch by inch. You whimper at the slight sting, your nails digging into his shoulders. He kisses you gently, murmuring soothing words against your lips. “You’re doing so well, Princess. Just breathe.”

As he pushes deeper, you feel an intense fullness, his cock stretching you in ways you’ve never felt before. The sensation is overwhelming, a mixture of pleasure and pain that leaves you breathless. “W-wow.” You look between both your bodies, watching his cock slowly disappear inside you.

The sight blew your mind. You knew this was breaking royal protocol and that if anyone found out, there would be dire consequences. But the thrill of the forbidden romance only spurs you on, making you crave him even more.

When he hits the wall inside you, his cock rests in the warmth of your cunt, letting you adjust to his size. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you whisper, your body relaxing as the initial pain fades and as you lay your head back down to look up at him. “Please, continue.”

He begins to move, his strokes slow and deep, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you. He watches your face, gauging your reactions, and when he sees you start to enjoy it, his pace quickens.

“Please, be more dominant with me,” you moan, your voice breathy with need. “I want you to take control.”

His eyes gleam with power at your words, a cocky smile spreading across his face. “Are you sure you want that?”

You bite your lip, “Are you questioning the Princess?” You counter with a flash of mischief. “Claim. Me.”

He groans at your words, his hands gripping your hips tighter, his thrusts becoming harder and more powerful as you demanded. The bed creaks under the force, your moans growing louder with each movement. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans, his voice rough. “such a tight royal pussy.”

“More, Crosshair! I need your cock so much.” You cry, your body being pummelled into your mattress. You could feel the stretch of your pussy, his veiny length creating a beautiful friction inside you that had your toes curling.

His eyes burn with lust as he increases his pace, each thrust harder and faster. After a while, he shifts positions, flipping you onto your stomach. “Get on your knees,” he commands.

You obey, your body trembling with anticipation. He positions himself behind you, his hands gripping the roush of your nightdress as he drives into you from behind in a quick motion. You lay your face into the pillow, hips raised to allow him to go deeper, hitting spots inside you that make you cry out in pleasure. “F-F-Fuck.” You gasp, your hands tight in the sheets as he brings your body back and forth onto his dick.

Your moans are muffled by the pillow as he pounds into you, the bed continuing to creak rhythmically beneath you. You reach down, fondling your own breasts, pinching your nipples as waves of pleasure build. "D-Dont stop, you’re so good.”

The room fills with the sounds of your bodies moving together—his grunts and praises, your moans, the slap of skin against skin. His pace is relentless, each thrust more intense than the last. Your bodies glisten with sweat, droplets sliding down your back and mingling with his, the heat of your coupling intensifying.

You feel his hands tighten on your hips, guiding you into a perfect rhythm. Each movement sends jolts of ecstasy through you, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

You arch your back, pushing against him, matching his fervent thrusts. He grins cockily from behind you, reaching across and grabbing a fistful of your hair.

“Dirty little girl,” he groans, watching his cock slip in and out of you. The friction, the pressure, the overwhelming pleasure was making you see stars.

"Crosshair," you gasp again, your voice strained with impending climax. "I’m so close."

He pulls out suddenly making you whine as you miss the heat before he flips you onto your back again. “Not yet,” he growls, and you watch in wide-eyed awe as he moves to straddle your chest. “Suck me first.”

Without a question you take him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his cock as he thrusts shallowly. He watches you with a dazed, hungry expression, his hands guiding your movements as he locks his fingers round the back of your head, keeping your face in place as his cock slips all over your tongue and down your throat. “You look so good with my cock in your mouth,” he murmurs, his voice rough as you slurp and gasp on his cock. “Such a filthy Princess.”

When he’s had his fill, he pulls out making you gasp for a breath as he begins positioning himself between your legs again. “Ready for more?”

“Yes,” you pant, your body aching for release.

He drives into you again, this time harder and faster. Your moans fill the room as he fucks you relentlessly, each thrust sending you closer to the edge. “Touch yourself,” he mutters, his voice rough. “I want to see you come.”

Your fingers instantly move between your legs, fingers thrashing over your clit as he ruts into you. The combination of his cock and your own touch pushes you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. “FUCK! C-Crosshair! I’m cumming.” Your body convulses, your screams of pleasure filling the room as you feel yourself release over his cock.

“Fuck, Princess,” he groans, pulling out at the last moment. He straddles you, stroking himself to completion. “Where do you want it?”

“On my breasts,” you gasp, arching your back to him.

He moans deeply, his release hitting your breasts and nightdress in hot, sticky spurts. He collapses beside you, both of you breathing heavily, your bodies slick with sweat.

But you aren’t done. If this was the last time you were to see him, you were going to make it last.

With a smirk, you push him onto his back, straddling him with this newfound confidence. “I think it’s my turn to return the favour again,” you murmur, guiding his hardening cock back inside you. You begin to ride him, your movements becoming more skilled and precise despite your inexperience.

Stars, what would anyone think of you now?

“That’s it… you’re beautiful,” he groans, his hands moving to your breasts, squeezing and pinching your nipples as you move, not caring if his hands get a little messy from his previous release. His mouth follows, sucking and kissing your tits, making you moan with every touch.

You grind against him, your hips rolling as you ride him faster. You start by gently rocking your hips, feeling him deep inside you. Gradually, you lift your body, almost letting him slip out before slamming back down, taking him fully each time.

Your rhythm is mesmerising, your back arching as you move, your breasts bouncing with each thrust.

His eyes are locked onto you, completely enamoured, unable to keep his hands off you. His fingers trace the curves of your body, his hands holding your hips, guiding your movements. “Fuck yes,” he groans, his eyes filled with desire. “Keep going.”

Your pace increases, each upward lift and downward slam more intense than the last. The sound of your bodies colliding fills the room, mingling with your increasingly loud moans. Your body trembles with the intensity of your second orgasm building inside you.

“Crosshair,” you cry, your voice thick with pleasure, “I’m going to come again.”

He looks up at you with adoration and hunger, his hands caressing your thighs and waist. “That’s it, Princess,” he murmurs, his voice low and encouraging. “Let go for me. You’re doing so well.”

You feel his fingers start to brush against your clit, adding to the overwhelming sensation. Your hips move frantically, chasing that peak of pleasure. He can’t stop praising you, his voice a constant murmur of soft words and pleads. “So beautiful,” he breathes, his eyes never leaving yours. “Keep going, just like that. Cum for me.”

Your body spas, your orgasm shooting through your body. Your cries of pleasure fill the room and he holds you through it, his hands and voice grounding you as you ride out the waves of your release,.

As you collapse onto his chest, both of you panting and spent, he wraps his arms around you, holding you close. “You were perfect,” he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “Absolutely perfect.”

You definitely couldn’t go on after that, your legs like jelly as you flop onto your side next to him, the feeling of him exiting you lewd and sinful but you didn’t care.

The two of you lay in silence, nothing but heavy pants and the soft shines of moonlight seen and heard in the room. You’re suddenly drowsy but you knew you should get up and make yourself tidy. But Crosshair beat you to it.

“Stay here,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take care of you.”

He slipped out of bed, his movements graceful and quiet as he made his way to the adjoining bathroom. You heard the sound of running water, the faint clink of glass bottles as he prepared a bath for you. A few moments later, he returned to your side, lifting you gently in his arms.

“Come on, Princess,” he whispered, carrying you to the bathroom. He set you down by the edge of the tub, the warm steam rising up to meet you. “Let me help you.”

He eased you into the bath, the hot water enveloping you like a comforting embrace. You sighed, sinking back against the tub as the tension melted from your muscles. Crosshair knelt beside you, his touch tender as he washed your back and hair. His fingers worked through your knots with care, his eyes focused and attentive.

“This is nice,” you murmured, your voice drowsy. “Thank you.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he teased, making you playfully splash him with the bath water as his hand glides through your hair. “I’m only messing. You deserve to be pampered.”

After a while, he helped you out of the bath, wrapping you in a plush towel. He dried you off gently, his touch soothing and careful. When you were dry, he led you back to the bed, tucking you under the covers before slipping in beside you. You nestled against his chest, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

“What happens next?” you asked quietly, your fingers tracing patterns on his skin.

Crosshair sighed, his hold on you tightening slightly. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I wish I did. Maybe my squad could be assigned to protect you, but it would complicate things. Our feelings… they aren’t supposed to happen.”

You nodded, understanding the weight of his words. “I know. But I can’t help how I feel. Maybe one day, things will be different.”

“Maybe,” he agreed, his voice soft. “One day.”

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. “We could run away,” you joked lightly, a small smile tugging at your lips yet a part of you wanted it to not be a joke. At all. “I could live a life of adventure and freedom instead of staying in these walls.”

He chuckled, a sound that rumbled deep in his chest. “As tempting as that sounds, Princess, we both know it’s not possible. Your duty is here. And mine… well, mine is wherever the Republic needs me.”

A sad reality settled over you, the weight of your responsibilities pressing down. But with Crosshair holding you close, you allowed yourself to dream.

“We’ll figure it out,” you said softly, your voice filled with determination. “Somehow.”

He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering. He doesn’t reply with his thoughts, not wanting to fill you with false promises. Apart from this real one: “Whatever happens, I will never forget you.”

And he said your name. Not your title. Your real name.

You closed your eyes, letting the warmth of his embrace lull you into a peaceful sleep. You didn’t want to admit it, but you know that when you wake he will no longer be beside you.

The future was uncertain, but for now, you had this moment. And it was enough.

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[vitaminkyeom]

[07:17]

PAIRING || Seungcheol x Female Reader

GENRES || Fluff, Angst (if you squint), Royalty AU, Best Friends To Lovers AU

WARNINGS || nothing

WORD COUNT || 1.1k

A/N || sorry i'm just having no motivation to write nowadays so this is just a little exercise me and my bestie got into :'D i hope you all like it once i start feeling better about my writing i promise i'll release more full length fics!

TAGLIST || ​@romeosbreastmilk @y00nzin0 @cecedrake2217  @candidupped @ashkuuuu @aaniag @hanicore @alyssng @chocolate-cookies @weebotakuboy @angelfeverdream @sea-moon-star @jjeongddol @k-drama-adict @thepoopdokyeomtouched [if you want to be added to my taglist, fill in this form!]

“he’s not serious about this at all.” you mumbled, staring at the water of the fountain on which you were sitting. you heard the garden gate open as someone entered, causing you to let out another sigh of discontent. 

“are you talking about prince seungcheol?” your handmaid asked quietly, eyeing the young gentleman who was now making his way towards the two of you.

you nodded, dipping your hand into the cool water of the fountain. “yes, him. he’s not taking this marriage proposal seriously at all. he’s not thinking straight and this is not the cheol i know.”

“oh, i’m sure he’s taking it really seriously.” your maid commented, just as seungcheol yelled at you, “good morning, love! i made you the biggest bouquet of flowers i could. in fact, mother might have a heart attack when she sees how empty our garden looks right now!”

you rolled your eyes at his statement and just as he came and stood in front of you, you splashed some of the water onto him, causing him to shriek and stumble back in horror.

“y/n!” he sputtered, shaking his head aggressively to shake off the water from his hair making him look like his adorable puppy that he owned (and made your heart skip a beat but that was something you would gladly keep to yourself). “why would you do that?”

“do what?” you asked innocently, standing up to finally greet your best friend properly. you batted your eyelashes at him, waiting for him to pout and whine and throw a tantrum of how you had ruined his silk coat like he always did. but instead he just cocked his head to a side, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“is that how you want to play, princess?” he asked with a raise of his eyebrow, causing your stomach to drop. 

damn his eyebrow, damn his cocky smile, damn choi seungcheol and damn your feelings for your best friend.

“there’s nothing to play here, cheol.” you said as quickly as you could, turning away from him so that he wouldn't be able to see your facial expression. “if anything, it looks like this is all games for you.” 

you turned back one more and nodded at your handmaid to leave the two of you, and you began walking away from the fountain, with seungcheol right behind you.

“what do you mean?” he asked, running up to catch up with you so that he was walking right beside you. seungcheol placed an arm around your waist and pulled you in closer, nearly causing you to trip on your gown. “what do you mean this is all games to me? do you not want to get married to me?”

“you tell me seungcheol.” you said, stopping abruptly to face him. he looked at you amusedly but his smile dropped the second he saw your now teary eyes. slowly, he reached out for your hand but you yanked it out of his reach. “do you want to get married to me? we aren’t supposed to get married. we should get married to someone we love. someone we will love. and someone we will continue to love for eternity.”

he frowned at you, looking at you worriedly. “i don’t understand, y/n. you’re my best friend. i’m your best friend. so if we are best friends, it shouldn't be that hard loving each other right? i mean, we already do but…if there’s someone else you like-”

“see? that’s exactly the problem!” you snapped, the tears now flowing freely down your cheeks. seungcheol stared at you in shock, raising his hand to wipe away your tears like he had done countless times before but you just stepped back, away from him. “that’s exactly your problem! you love me just because i’m your best friend. your love for me is just what you have for me as your childhood friend and i’ll never be more than that! i want to marry you because i love you! i want you to marry me because you love me! and not in the way you claim but in the way i see you! but for you- but for you this is just a simple ideal arrangement made by the kings of two neighbouring lands of marrying someone you already know and you’ll never love me like i love you-”

the rest of your words died in your throat as seungcheol suddenly covered the distance between the two of you in half a stride, smashing his lips against yours as he completely stole your breath away. your eyes fluttered close as he gently cupped your face, which was a stark contrast to how fervently his mouth explored yours. 

his soft, warm lips roamed over yours, licking and sucking at your bottom lip making you feel like your heart was going to explode if you didn’t do something about it. in response to his sudden kiss, you wrapped an arm around his shoulder to pull him in even more closer while the other clutched his soft hair at his nape. 

you could feel so many different emotions running through your heart and yet, your mind became completely blank when the two of you finally broke apart, gasping for breath.

for some reason, you couldn’t look up to meet seungcheol’s eyes because you were sure you looked as flushed as you felt so instead you chose to stare at his lips (which was a terrible decision because you immediately got this mental urge to kiss them again). 

seungcheol rested his forehead against yours, finally causing you to meet his eyes. he looked at you so softly, so sincerely and with so, so much love that you were sure your knees would have given away if he hadn’t been holding you by your waist.

“i love you.” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “i’ve always loved you. i just didn’t- i just didn’t know how to approach you and this marriage proposal worsened the situation because i was worried you would think i love you just for diplomatic purposes-”

“idiot.” you whispered back, screwing your eyes shut to prevent the tears from forming due to the amount of overwhelming emotions you were feeling right now. “you made me cry so much-”

“i-m so sorry. i’m so, so sorry. i never ever wanted to make you cry. i hate it when you cry because of me. i’m so sorry y/n. i love you so much and i promise you, i’ll never hurt you like this.”

you let out a small chuckle and opened your eyes, giving the man you loved the most in this world a soft smile. he smiled back at you, displaying his dimples (which of course made your heart flutter because how could someone look so handsome and cute at the same time?) before leaning in to press another soft kiss.

“so,” he said, “will you marry me?”

A/N: Please do tell me what you think about this story!! I worked really hard on it and I would love to know everyone’s thoughts on it~ Comments and reblogs are appreciated!  

© 𝐆𝐘𝐔-𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 

[shuaraes]

i should’ve never let you go | x.mh

- To him, love can only mean you

oneshot | 2.5k | exes! au | angst | comfort

after laying out his raw heart for you on voicemail, one part of xu minghao never expects to hear from you again. this is until you text him back asking him to meet you for the first time in over a year. with your text, minghao knows he can’t let you slip away the way he did before.

sequel to we shouldn’t have ended like this

~ pairing . xu minghao x gn!reader

~ content . exes to lovers au!, non idol au!, minghao’s a lover boy, quite cheesy at the end, can be read as a standalone fic but some minor references won’t be picked up on

~ tw/cw . suggestive, mentions of alcohol, minghao’s a bit of a dick to everyone but his s/o

~ song rec . blue jeans - lana del rey

~ author’s note . here it is, the much requested pt.2 !! thank you all for loving pt.1 so much ~~

(taglist at the end)

THE PARK BENCH IS ICE AGAINST MINGHAO’S BLUE JEANS.

His hands are tightly clasped around a medium-sized bouquet, a pink bow ribbon tying everything together. Minghao doesn’t know the first thing about flowers, just knows that carnations are your favourites. Even though there’s a slight chill in the air, Minghao is dressed nicely; short-sleeved polo rolled up to show his arms. He thought he might as well make a decent effort: after all, he’s seeing you for the first time in a year.

Soulmates used to be a concept foreign to Minghao, so foreign when his friend Jun often blabbed on about finding his ‘one true love’ - he could only scoff. Then he thought about what love meant to him. Watching all his friends fall in and out of it faster than he could blink, love didn’t mean much. Yes, he had been ‘in love’ but it had never consumed him, never broken him apart to the point he questioned his purpose of living.

Until you whispered those three words into his ear (it was early morning and you were tangled in his sheets, the linen covering your bare upper body, your eyes were barely opened but your smile was so bright, your fingertips and kisses painted his neck like a canvas. He had never seen such an angelic sight) and it all finally clicked. If this was what love felt like, then he had loved you since he first saw you.

Being in love meant loving you. To him, now love can only mean you.

Honestly, Minghao wasn’t expecting a response from you. It was three am when he sent the voicemail and after so long with no contact, you had probably moved on and found someone else. Living your life without thinking about him, is a privilege Minghao could only wish for. You were in his dreams, in his walls, staring at him in his bathroom mirror.

Although he did miss you terribly, a part of him sent a message because he wanted closure. He wanted to know you didn’t want him anymore. Maybe with your deafening silence, he could move on - live a life with you (an empty promise to himself, like a single coin in a fountain). But you didn’t.

A week after that night, Minghao received a text from your number.

It was early afternoon and Minghao was only half occupied with the tasks of the day, his head everywhere but the present. After sending that voicemail, he couldn’t seem to focus. A string of ‘what ifs’ kept constantly replaying in his head like a strip of film. At a point, he even contemplated throwing away your slippers. But as he saw them by the heater neatly lined next up to his - something deep from within him forced his whole body to stop. He couldn’t, he just couldn’t. Throwing away your slippers would mean giving up on you. Quitting had not got Minghao very far in life.

A notification popped up when he was scrolling mindlessly that day - he was about to swipe up. But when he saw your contact name (it’s ‘sweetheart’, he hasn’t changed it since the day he told you he loved you, the contact name even outliving your relationship), his phone almost dropped out of his hand and onto his face.

Sweetheart: How much did you drink?

Minghao’s breath hitched in his throat. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you were a drunken mistake. That he wouldn’t have said what he said without the removed inhibitions from several bottles of wine. He meant every single word he said

Minghao: I’ve never been more sober in my life.

His fingers paused at his keyboard, wanting to say so much more. He wanted to tell you once again how he couldn’t live without you, how you were even more important to him than the oxygen that fills his lungs. But he settled with simple formalities instead.

Minghao: How are you?

Sweetheart: Stop pretending that you care.

Minghao could feel his entire heart shatter in his chest, had you not listened to the voicemail or even worse did you not believe him? Did you not believe his love for you? Again, you were slipping away from him right in front of his eyes, he couldn’t let you go.

Minghao: Everything I said in that voicemail was true. I care about you more than I care for myself.

Sweetheart: Meet me in the park at 2pm and prove it then.

That’s how Minghao finds himself in his local park. Coincidentally, where you both had your first date (now several years ago, he placed a pink carnation behind your ear and when he looked into your eyes, he knew you were going to be different from the others). His heart is threatening to fall out of his chest with the way it’s beating so fast. What is he supposed to say to you? What apology on earth can he give you to make up for his past actions?

The past is in the past but Minghao needs you in his future.

As if you were the grand prize in this game we call life, Minghao is a debtor using up his final pennies. He can’t afford to lose you. The universe doesn’t grant second chances easily and Minghao wasn’t a fool to let you go again.

Your relationship was the furthest thing from perfect, but your flaws matched each other in a way Minghao could never fully grasp. End pieces in a jigsaw, rose quartz and serenity in an evening sky, the rays of the sun and the glow of the moon. You were far from perfect but you were more than close enough for Minghao. He was obsessed with you and still is.

He hears the light patter of feet against the cobbled pavement. The sound gets louder and louder until it stops. Minghao looks up from his fiddling fingers, expecting it to be some dog walker whose pet doesn’t understand the concept of personal space. But then he feels a familiar tap on his shoulder, there’s only one person in this world whose touch is as light as a feather.

When he sees you, his whole world ceases to exist. It is only you that remains. For a year he wanted, craved for this moment. You were his messiah, all he wanted to do was worship you until his throat was hoarse and lips parched. He was thirsty, oh so thirsty. Only you could save him, only you could fix him. He quickly stands up to look at you. He thinks if you touch him his legs would give in and he would fall to the floor. Your presence is overwhelming, you’re taking over his sensing and clouding his thoughts.

All of his words are caught in the base of his throat, there is so much he wants to tell you - but as he tries to speak only silence escapes from his parted pink lips.

You look slightly different, something Minghao couldn’t quite put his finger on. In front of him, you are a paradigm of blues, yellows and reds: the centrepiece in an art gallery, Micheal Angelo’s greatest creation.

“These are for me?” You ask cautiously, breaking the seemingly infinite silence.

You were so surprised to hear from him after you had assumed he had fallen out of love with you months ago. You want to make sure, that you haven’t gone mad, that the love of your life is really standing in front of you.

“Of course they are,” He hands you the flowers and watches your face light up when you realise that he remembered.

“You remembered…” You say smiling, looking down and twirling the pink stain ribbon between your fingers. ‘Of course’ Minghao thinks - of course, he’d never forget. He wants to reply but he’s too captivated with your beauty to think straight.

Still lost in thought, you continue, “Where did all the time go… Back then we were so young, so naive, so… So…” You struggle to find the right words to say.

“So stupid.” Minghao’s words are breathless as you meet his ever-so-loving gaze. For the whole of your relationship, Minghao had never been the one to open up to faults - you as well. The feeling of being so naked and vulnerable is foreign to him. But he relishes in the freedom of the truth, his pride no longer holding him down in chains.

He thinks he loves you more than anyone in human history has loved before.

“I meant everything, I said in that voicemail. You were right ‘We shouldn’t have ended like this’, yet I let it happen. I made you doubt my love but to protect my pride, I just stood there, saying nothing. I thought you grew fed up with our relationship, that I wasn't what you wanted. But then I realised you were pushing me away to protect yourself, just like I did.” Minghao pauses getting slightly emotional.

“Nothing I say or do will ever be enough, I can’t turn back time I know that.

But I never stopped loving you.”

And before he can comprehend, you’re in his arms, head against his chest - your home (his heart). You drop the flowers in your right hand and Minghao circles himself around you, engulfing you in his embrace. You don’t say anything, yet a thousand words fall from your parted lips as you stare into his pools of brown (the same pools you could spread hours, days drowning in, as if fresh air didn’t exist). You smell exactly like he remembered, a mix of woods and flora. You feel like a cup of warm tea after a tiresome day, the silver lining he always looks towards. Minghao thinks there’s nothing in the world as beautiful as you.

“I should’ve never let you go…” The words tumbling out of his lips are a waterfall of emotion. Waves of relief rush over him as he feels himself around you. This is where he is supposed to be. Suddenly, everything in his life is going to be okay.

“I should have never tried to push you away in the first place ” Your hands reach up to stroke the back of his hair and he melts into your touch like butter.

This is where he belongs.

Minghao places a small kiss on the mole you have on your collarbone and it’s almost like the past year didn’t happen (you’re on a date in the city, you’re wearing his favourite dress which shows your shoulders and no matter how hard he tries, Minghao can’t keep his hands off you, pecking and nibbling at the soft skin, even if he didn’t say it much, he was enamoured with you). Minghao doesn’t notice the lingering eyes of passers-by, he even fails to realise the passage of time.

Sadly the world can’t stop for him, no matter how much it feels like it does.

With a loud honk from a car speeding down the other side of the road resonating through his eardrums, Minghao is brought back to reality. Suddenly the light weight in the back of his jeans pocket feels all too heavy and he starts to panic, pushing you away gently. You pout, feeling like you have the wrong idea and Minghao’s expression is immediately sympathetic.

“No baby, don’t worry you did nothing wrong.” He coos in a tone that had almost become foreign to him.

Never, has he used this tone with any of his hookups, even when they begged to be called sweet names, he couldn’t (looking back on this Minghao feels guilty, but those people weren’t you, they couldn’t ever be you). He’s surprised at how easily those words drift off his tongue after so long. He guesses everything just comes easier with you.

“Remember how I said, we’ll listen to your favourite jazz album while drunk on wine.” He scratches his neck bashfully as you look up to him with wide eyes.

“I may or may not have booked us two tickets to their live show in the area, I just wanted to do something again to show that I care. I know it wouldn’t make up for-"

You silence him with a kiss, and Minghao forgets where he is, what he had just said, the colour of the sky and the feeling of the ground below his feet. hell if you didn't whisper ‘It’s okay Minghao' against his lips, he would have forgotten his own name.

For Minghao, it’s you. It has always been you and it will continue to be you. Maybe until the day he dies, he thinks. But knowing himself, he would probably find a way to love you in the afterlife as well.

You drag Minghao by his arm into his dimly lit flat, lips still perfectly intertwined together like a lock and key. If your kisses are knife wounds, Minghao wouldn’t mind bleeding to death. He can taste the tart fermented grapes on your tongue. The feeling of his bare skin against yours is more intoxicating than the bottle of wine you shared. You mewl pitifully into his mouth, clutching his clothes like a beggar desperate for cash. The sight of you begging for him was probably on par with the sex itself.

The night wasn’t supposed to end like this. Minghao had planned it out perfectly: you were supposed to visit a jazz show featuring your favourite ensemble, then you’d have dinner at a place he’d been meaning to take you for months, then maybe after a glass of red (or two) a taxi would drop you off at your complex where he would kiss you on the check and tell you to sleep well.

You both barely made it to step two.

Minghao pulls you flush against his chest breaking the kiss for air - you don’t seem to care as you turn your attention to his neck. In the morning, Minghao expects to see dots of red-purple bruises lined across the pale skin of his neck like patches of watercolour. The night wasn’t supposed to end like this, but Minghao doesn’t have the strength in him to tell you to stop.

“I wanted to be a gentleman.” He manages to whisper out, his eyes squeezing shut as you move your hands and kisses downwards, “I don’t want you just for your body, you know.”

“I know. I just missed you so much it was driving me crazy.” You say and drag him by the collar. You’re not looking where you’re going, but Minghao trusts you know his place better than you know your own.

Before he can respond, he feels you jerk slightly, almost tripping over your feet. He looks down to watch what caused it and he feels his face light up like a pink neon sign downtown.

“You still have my slippers here.” You say, not like you’re inquiring, but more like a statement. The smile on your face is miles wide when you look up at him. Minghao knows exactly what you’re thinking and because of it, he’s the happiest man who has ever lived.

“I didn’t have the heart to get rid of them, I never wanted to let you go in the first place."

taglist - @minhui896 @luvhuihui @porridgesblog @bangantokchy @haocovr @icyminghao

[misty-dreemurr]

Warnnings: death, implied murdere, blood, nondescript childbirth, religious themes, the creator and the reader are two different characters, mother is used to describe the creator but there are gender neutral, they/them pronouns used.

THE imposter is dead, golden blood drips from blades of grass, soaking into the ground. Bright blue four-petal flowers with golden stems blooms from the pools of blood. Cradle to the bosom of the imposter's chest was a weeping child— an infant only a few weeks old.

That explained too much. Everything made sense now, Why the imposter— no the creator would cover their stomach when under attack. Why they kept to themselves and not engage, not fight.

The true creator was dead, and the real imposter sits on the throne.

The true creator was dead, but there child lives on.

This imposter AU where the creator was killed a few weeks after giving birth has been haunting me for days, below the cut is just more ideas.

Depending on where the creator was killed I have a few characters that would find the creator and raid the 'heir'

For Mondstadt, Diluc would raise the reader, keeping the truth of them a secret to all but Kaeya and Jean.

For Liyue, Zhongli would care the the reader. He of course takes care of the creator's body, burying them and leaving the grave unmarked. He believes that by raising the creator's child he is repenting.

Inazuma, Yae Miko would raise the reader, she would keep the child hidden as she secretly plans the downfall of the fake on the throne.

In Sumeru Alhaitham and Kaveh would take in the reader. Why? For no other reasons than I think it's funny.

For Fontain Neuvillette takes in the child. When he had found the body of the creator and their child it rained for months. ( since I don't know much about Fountain and the characters I didn't have much to add at the moment)

Snezhnaya the reader is found and raised by Columbina(and the other harbingers, but mostly Columbina) the reader is kept hidden from the outside. They plan to take down the imposter with the reader leading the battle when their older.

Every one plans to take down the imposter once the reader is older however some would rather have the reader their child live like a normal kid and not worshiped.

The truth about the reader is kept hidden from the public (with exceptions) no matter who is raising them.

Yae miko, Zhongli, and Columbina would tell the reader the truth about their 'mother' once there about the age of six-7 the rest would wait until the reader is 11-15 to tell them the truth

The reader's personality differs based on who raised them. With Diluc the reader is surprisingly cheerful, they often sneak out, and go on little adventures but always return home. (Although there were a few times when Jean and Kaeya had to bring them home )

The reader raised by Zhongli is quiet and reserved, they also have a kind and gentle disposition, and they are a soft-spoken individual.

The reader raised by Yae Miko is very studious, they are sarcastic and snarky. They are known for their silver-tough and quick wit. However they do like being alone often than not.

The reader raised by Alhaitham and Kaveh is creative. They are a bookworm with a penchant for creating things( mini clay sculpture, clothing, dances) this reader is always active and always willing to learn

The reader is raised by Neuvillette as too kind for their own good. This reader is a little naive, a little soft, and just a little bit ill-equipped for the life they got handed. They don't like loud noise, they don't like big crowds, but they do like magic and a good story. This reader for all of their faults has a strong sense of justice and wants every thing to be as fair as can be.

A reader raised by Columbina ( and the harbingers) is a dreamy doe-eyed child, they at first comes off as helpless, however, they are not. This reader is a playful flirt. Like the reader raised by yae miko this reader also has a sliver-tough. The are good at lowering people guards and getting information from them.

I'm going to expand on this at a later date but for now this is all that I can think of. I tried to keep the reader gender neutral but if there is a few female prouned used please tell me so I can fix it

My ask box is opened

[minty-mumbles]

Red Verbena

Summary: Whumptober Day 1: Adverse Affects - Fairy Hyrule eats something he's not supposed to.

TW: Allergic reactions

A/N: Yeah, I know it's two days late. Wonderful way to start the month 😅 I won't be doing every prompt this year like I did last time, but I'm still doing some of them! Big thank you to @transzeldas for beta reading for me :)

This is part of my Flowers and Fountains AU | Read fic on AO3 Here

~~~

The day kept getting worse and worse for Hyrule. He’d woken up with a sore throat the morning before, but it had disappeared by lunch, and he’d hoped that it hadn’t meant anything. Despite Hyrule’s wishes, the soreness was back the next morning with a vengeance, accompanied by a cough and a bone-deep weariness. 

The other heroes had been eyeing him all day but didn’t bring up how he obviously wasn’t well. A cold was concerning, and something to keep an eye on, but no reason to stop traveling for a day. Some of them might not like that fact and would have preferred to let their sick companion rest for a day, but no one protested when Time ordered them to pack up that morning.

Throughout the day the group kept a slow pace for his benefit. Despite that, he’d had a harder and harder time keeping up as the day wore on. He was sure his heavy breathing was painful to listen to. If they stopped to camp for the night before the sun even brushed the tops of the trees, no one mentioned it, and no one protested when Hyrule wasn’t given any chores to do that night. 

Hyrule himself would have protested if he hadn’t known he wouldn’t have been able to collect firewood, fill water skins, or patrol even if he’d been asked to. He was dead on his feet and felt too weak to stand back up once he’d collapsed on the makeshift benches around the fire. So instead, he spent the evening sitting fireside by Wild as the cook prepared dinner. 

He didn’t offer to help the cook, which was unusual. The others claimed that Hyrule ruined meals if he even so much touched the food, but if he saw Wild needed help, Hyrule never hesitated to offer to help. Hyrule couldn’t cook very well, even he knew that. When he was by himself, he usually ate food raw. (Fairies never bothered to cook their food, and neither did he before he joined the group, which meant he was quite bad at it.) But cutting vegetables or stirring the pot was simple enough, and something he took pleasure in doing. 

Tonight, however, he voluntarily regulated himself to simply keeping the cook company, and Wild didn’t offer him any tasks. Touching the food they were all going to eat, even just to cut it, wasn't wise if he was sick. And he was sick, even if no one was saying it out loud. 

Hyrule inwardly cursed the fact that fairy healing magic was more specialized for injuries and wounds, and he couldn’t just magic away his sickness. 

After dinner, he was the first to set up his bedroll, and no one complained when he took one of the prime spots near the fire. Wind was quick to join him, and Hyrule was grateful for both the sailor’s company and the story he masterfully wove for his sick companion. It gave little call for Hyrule to speak, letting him rest his sore throat, and it provided the traveler a distraction from how horrible he felt.

As he listened to Wind’s tale, Hyrule saw Wild once again approach the cooking pot. At first, Hyrule thought the cook was going to make something for dessert or warm some milk up for the group to drink to ward off the night chill, as he often did. Instead, after a few minutes of Wild hovering over the cooking pot, the smell that started to permeate the clear was somewhat sour, and Hyrule was certain he saw a lizard tail tossed into the pot. He figured Wild was making some sort of potion or elixir for him and decided it would be in his best interest to not pay attention to what Wild was adding to the pot.  

He didn’t want to know what disgusting things the cook expected him to drink. Don’t get him wrong- he was grateful there was someone in their party who knew how to brew potions, but it meant that Hyrule was learning things he never wanted to learn about what sort of ingredients went into the concoction.

The potion would be a relief, whatever was in it, so he would drink it, and just try hard not to think about lizard tails.

He was more than relieved when he saw Wild pull out a bottle, (Why did he always seem to have plenty of bottles? Hyrule always had trouble finding them.) and fill it with the purpley-red liquid simmering in the pot.

“Here, you go, freshly brewed! It’s a hearty elixir I’ve modified to be more helpful for sickness instead of injuries.” Wild explained cheerfully, handing the bottle over before returning to the fire to bottle up the leftover elixir. Hyrule wasted no time in pulling out the cork and gulping down the potion. 

He grimaced at the taste. Once, when he’d been indulging in a rare luxurious bath in his Princesses’ castle, he’d accidentally gotten soap suds in his mouth. The soap had smelled amazing, like warm cinnamon and honey, but the suds he’d gotten in his mouth had tasted horrendous. That was what this elixir reminded him of. He grimaced slightly, forcing himself to swallow it all. He could vaguely feel the magic of the elixir start to sink into his body. 

Better to have a bad taste in his mouth than to be stuck like this for the next few days. 

Wild, seeing the face he made, approached again, this time handing him a small bowl that contained a strange red mush. Hyrule took the bowl, noting it was cold to the touch. “What’s this?” He asked curiously as he poked at the concoction with the spoon Wild handed to him. 

“It’s a mix of wildberries, blueberries, milk, and honey, mashed up together and chilled. It’s refreshing in hot weather or if you have a sore throat, and you look like you need it. Also for the taste. The elixir I use for sickness doesn’t taste as bad as the stuff for physical wounds, but it’s still not good.” Hyrule nodded thankfully at Wild, ignoring the cook’s mention of Hyrule’s appearance. Wild almost never filtered his words to be more polite. Hyrule liked that about him. Most fairies didn’t have a filter either.

It was probably the truth anyways. If he looked as bad as he felt, he wasn’t a pretty sight. But Wild’s cooking always made him feel better. The champion was just too good at his craft for his food to do anything but comfort. And with the horrible taste still in his mouth, Hyrule could definitely use a palette cleanser. Wild had claimed that this potion tasted better than the usual ones, but Hyrule wondered if Wild had ever actually tasted it because it was truly foul. He could barely keep from gagging even after he’d swallowed all of it.

From what Wild had said, this dish couldn’t be better suited for him. A fairy’s diet was primarily fruits and plants, so the wildberries and blueberries sounded perfect. Milk and honey, on the other hand, weren’t part of a fairy’s regular diet. Honey, or really anything that sweet, was hard to come by in his era, thus highly prized, and milk was a rarity reserved only for those fairies who were brave enough to venture into Hylian towns. 

(Hyrule, when he’d seen the plates of milk and sugar cubes Malon and Time laid out around the farm, had been stunned by their generosity. If he snuck out later that night to join his sisters in feasting on the fresh sweet milk, no one but himself had to know. He’d considered granting the couple a boon for their generosity, but any little thing he could think of was already done by his sisters. The couple’s roof would never leak, the new calf on the way would be delivered smoothly, the cat that hung around in their barn catching mice was always in a good mood, and the nearby lake that Time liked to fish in always had a thriving population of the couple's favorite fish to eat. Hyrule had left the farm a little disappointed he couldn’t offer a bit of good luck, but satisfied that they would be well looked after.)

Regardless, this frozen treat Wild had given him looked delicious, and he was proven right when he tried a scoop. It was perfectly sweet and creamy, and definitely seemed to help cool him off. As he swallowed it, though, he frowned. His throat itched, and he coughed slightly.

He thought Wild’s potion was supposed to help him feel better, but his throat didn’t feel better. Actually, it felt worse. 

He coughed again, taking another spoonful of the cold fruit mixture, hoping it would soothe the burn. It didn’t. In fact, the sticky sweetness of the honey caught in the back of his throat, making him break out into a coughing fit. When he finished he sat heaving for breath, and everyone was staring at him. 

Wind reached out, feeling his forehead. He frowned. “His fever’s gone,” Hyrule wanted to argue that he never had a fever in the first place, but knew that denying the obvious wouldn’t get him anywhere. That, and he was still catching his breath and wheezing. “So I guess the potion’s working. Why is he still coughing, then?”

Sky frowned. “If it’s something contagious, we don’t all want to catch it. A kind of sickness that can’t be treated with potions would be dangerous, as far as we are from a town and medical help.” Hyrule cleared his throat, but that didn’t help. The uncomfortable tingling was slowly melting into a burn in the very back of his throat. 

Warriors nodded. “He’s right. Sickness can spread easily in confined quarters. We should stay away until we know what he’s got that’s resisting one of Wild’s potions.” At that, Wind stood, obviously planning to move away from Hyrule. Hyrule bit his lip to stop the protest from escaping him, knowing it was for the best, but Wind ended up being halted anyway. 

“No, Wind, stay there.” Warriors ordered firmly. 

Wind immediately protested. “What? But I don’t want to get sick!”

“You’ve been in close contact with him for the past several hours. If it's contagious, you might already have it.” That caused Wind to shuffle uncomfortably. Hyrule couldn’t blame him. The thought of being affected like Hyrule was right now- as he doubled over in another coughing fit- was not a pleasant one, he could admit. 

Although, strangely, something about this felt slightly familiar. Once Hyrule straightened back up. Wind handed Hyrule his water flask, which he accepted easily in exchange for the bowl of now-half-melted fruit mush. The water felt soothing on his throat, but only for a moment. Once he swallowed, the burning came back just as much. 

Wind crouched back down next to him, frowning. “Hyrule, say AHHHH.” He demanded, sticking out his own tongue to demonstrate. Hyrule complied, too exhausted to question him.

When Wind was satisfied with his quick look at Hyrule’s mouth, he turned to the others. “His mouth didn’t look like that before. It’s really red, and the back of his mouth is all swollen. It looks like what my sister looks like when she eats mangos. Allergic reaction. It makes sense because his fever’s gone, so it’s probably not whatever he was sick with.” 

Ah. So that's why the sensation was familiar. Hyrule was allergic to strawberries. He hadn’t thought about that, but now it made sense that the sensation was familiar.  Hyrule didn't accidentally eat strawberries often, but it did happen occasionally. Sometimes the castle cooks forgot he couldn’t eat them, or sometimes he didn’t check what kind of fruit was in a pastry he bought from a town. 

Hyrule heard Legend snap angrily at Wild, but didn’t look at them, too busy massaging his throat. “You fed him strawberries?” 

“What? No!”

“He said that was the only thing he’s allergic to, though. Are we sure it’s an allergic reaction?”

“Could you have forgotten what you put in that fruit mix you gave him?”

Wild protested, and he sounded so distressed Hyrule gave up on rubbing his throat and looked up at him. “No! I threw out everything I had that had strawberries in it when he told me he was allergic to them! Just like I did with peppers for Four!”

Time interrupted them, sounding calm despite the high tensions. “Wild, why don’t you walk us through what you put into the food you’ve given him this evening?”

Wild ran a hand through his hair, still looking stressed and flustered but pulled himself together. “The soup I made for dinner just had some vegetables- carrots, peas, celery, onions, stuff like that- some chicken stock, chicken, and noodles. The fruit mix I gave him just now only had wildberries, blueberries, milk, and honey.” Hyrule had sat and watched Wild make the soup so he knew it was nothing in there, and he hadn’t tasted anything off about the fruit mix he’d been given.

Wild continued, listing off ingredients on his fingers. “The potion had hearty lizard tails, ground up bokoblin teeth-”

“Teeth?” Someone interrupted him, sounding disgusted. Hyrule himself winced and tried not to focus on the fact that he’d drank that.

Wild sighed shakily, apparently annoyed by this reaction, but still unnerved by what was happening. “Yes, teeth, and some red verbena and hyrule herb to try and cut the nasty flavor, and-”

“That’s it,” Time says. He looked like he just had a realization that didn’t really have anything to do with the verbena. “Hyrule’s allergic to verbena.” Hyrule didn’t have time to process how Time could have possibly known that before Warriors cut in.

The captain sputtered, aghast. “What- verbena? He’s allergic to verbena? I’ve never heard of anyone-” That’s the point Hyrule decides to check out of the conversation. He already knows exactly how it’s going to go, with Warriors pointing out he’s never heard of a Hylian that’s allergic to verbena, and how strange that he just so happens to be allergic to the completely innocuous plant.

Except it wasn’t innocuous, and he knew why he was having this reaction to it, and it wasn’t because he was allergic. He’d been truthful when Wild had asked the group if they were allergic to anything, and he’d answered that he was allergic to only strawberries.

Fairies ate plants. They also ate fruit and the occasional bug, but they were known folivores. They ate plants. And, naturally, some plants came up with defenses against their predators.

Red verbena was an uncommon herb that had evolved over time to have a substance on its leaves and stems that tasted very unpleasant to fairies. Although he’d never tried it before himself, he recalled one of his sisters telling him that it tasted “Icky, like soap!” sticking her tongue out in exaggerated disgust. Hylians didn’t seem to have the same problem. Apparently, the herb had a faint but lemony taste to it.

The bad taste wasn’t the only effect. If fairies ate enough of it, it could cause their throats to burn and swell up and cause suffocation, and Hyrule didn’t know how much Wild had used in the position but he suspected, as it became more and more difficult to breathe, that it had been more than enough.

How Time knew it was the verbena Hyrule had reacted to, he had no idea.

Actually, no, that was wrong. He had a very good idea as to how Time knew, but the traveler's mind was more focused on the growing pain in his throat, and not the fact that Time knew Hyrule was a fairy. He could focus on that later.

A hand was rubbing his back now, and he could barely hear Wind’s concerned voice calling out to him over his wheezing, heavy breaths. It had become too difficult to drag in all the air he needed to speak, so he couldn’t respond to the worried sailor. Further in the background, there were the familiar sounds of the rest of the group bickering. 

After traveling with the other heroes for so long, the rowdy noises of disagreements and play fighting had become comforting to Hyrule, letting him know that the others were present and at ease. It was when the group was silent that bothered him. 

The only kind of silence that ever fell over the group were the bad kinds; after arguments with anger still laying heavy in the air, the worried strained silence of an injured friend, or the quiet look exchanged when they could all feel strange eyes looking at them from the shadows.

So normally, he hated the silence, but right now he wished the others would just shut up. 

Thankfully Wind seemed to be paying a bit more attention to Hyrule than the rest of them. Distantly, he heard the sailor give a shot of “GUYS! Shut up, Hyrule’s dying!”

Hyrule kind of doubted that. This wouldn’t be enough to kill him. Hopefully. All he needed was the potion specially brewed for this kind of occurrence. Although it wasn’t technically an allergy, the potion he carried in his pack for his allergy to strawberries would probably work just as well for this. He couldn’t muster the breath needed to ask someone to get it from his pouch for him, though.

Thankfully, Wind’s dramatics proved useful, as they often did, and the others seemed to shut up. That, or Hyrule just couldn’t hear them anymore. 

In fact, the only thing he could hear was his labored strain breaths that grew less effective by the moment. He was crying, he thinks, tears streaming down his red face. He distantly realized that at some point he’d fallen from where he’d been sitting, back down to his bedroll, feeling weak as a newborn. 

That probably wasn’t good, but Hyrule could only focus on the burning in his throat and his darkening vision. 

~~~

Hyrule’s mouth was still sore. 

Four had been smart enough to fish the allergy potion out of his pack. Four’s potion had done it’s job, saving him from choking to death on nothing. He didn’t remember the smith forcing him to drink it, so he must have been unconscious, or very close to it. He would have to remember to thank the smith for using one of his own potions to help Hyrule instead of delaying to try and find Hyrule’s.

Wind, who hadn't left Hyrule’s side since he woke up, scrunched up his nose at Wild, who was standing in front of the pair. “Ugh, Wild, give him a break, for goddesses sake. So what if he forgot to mention that he’s allergic to something? It's not a big deal!”

Wild nearly shrieked. “Not a big deal? He almost died!”

The champion ignored Time’s mutter of “That's a bit of an exaggeration,” and continued his tirade at the shame-faced traveler. 

“Do you have any other weird allergies you want to fess up to now?” Hyrule shook his head quickly, not sure whether to be ashamed or to find the situation and Wild’s distress slightly amusing. 

Not that Wild’s distress was actually funny, of course. He could understand Wild being upset that he had accidentally poisoned his friend. But the whole situation was sort of a comedy of errors. Now, instead of getting better from his sickness, Hyrule was regulated to bed rest, and the group was forced to stay where they had set up camp for the next day as he recovered. 

Wild eyed him skeptically but didn’t prod him anymore, stomping off to the cooking pot. Hyrule swore he heard him muttering something about “stubborn heroes of courage” as he moved away, which was a bit hypocritical, as Wild himself was one of said stubborn heroes of courage. No doubt the cook was heading off to brew up another batch of the allergy potion, as he’d been doing all morning.

 Hyrule did wonder how Wild did it. He’d sniffed the bottle that Four's potion was in, licked the brim of it, and then set to work brewing more. Apparently, he’s never even heard of such a potion before, but all he needed to replicate was his senses. Hyrule didn’t know how Wild knew what the potion's ingredients were just by smelling and tasting it and desperately wanted it to remain that way. 

He sighed, letting his eyes roam over the clearing. When he caught sight of Time looking at him, he quickly looked away, not daring to meet the old man’s eyes. 

They would need to talk. Hyrule knew that. Apparently, Time had known something about Hyrule that Hyrule hadn’t known the old man knew. Hyrule really wanted to know how long Time had known. When had he figured it out? But not now. He did not want to have that conversation in the middle of camp when he wouldn’t be able to run away.

Not that he thought Time would hurt him. He didn't think Time would ever do that, not on purpose, and now that the secret is out, there wasn’t any need to be skittish. But something about the situation made him anxious all the same.

Damn his Hylian blood and all the anxiety it gave him. Why couldn’t he have been born a full fairy?

Instead of Time, Hyrule managed to accidentally lock eyes with Warriors, who’d been staring at him for a while now, which Hyrule was trying desperately to ignore. 

Too late, he looked away, but Warriors had already taken his eye contact as a sign to come over. He sat down heavily on the bench next to where Wind was keeping him company, and nudged the sailor. “Why don't you go help Wild?” he asked. Wind scowled deeply at him. 

“Are you going to yell at Hyrule too? He didn't do anything wrong, he doesn’t deserve to be yelled at.” 

Warriors shook his head, a smile pulling at his lips. “No, I just have a few questions for him. No yelling involved, I promise.” Wind seemed satisfied with that. He moved away, although not toward Wild like Warriors suggested, but towards where Sky was sitting against the base of a tree, carving some small wooden figure. Wind had recently become enamored with the Skyloftian’s hobby, and begged Sky to teach him at every opportunity.  

Warrior kept his voice low enough that the other heroes scattered around the clearing wouldn’t hear him. “Hyrule, I have a few questions to ask you.”

Hyrule tilted his head questioning, or at least as best he could do from where he was still laying down on his bedroll. “What?”

“Was it really the verbena that caused you to react like that?” Hyrule nodded, having a dreadful feeling he knew where this conversation was going. 

Warriors continued. “Hylians aren’t supposed to have a reaction to verbena. It’d be like someone being allergic to eating meat. It doesn’t make sense, it just doesn’t happen.”

“Hylia’s head on a pike,” Hyrule swore miserably, muttering too quietly for Warriors to make out. This was the exact conversation he’d wanted to avoid with Time, and now he was having it anyway, with Warriors. 

Warriors blinked in confusion, taken aback. “What did you say?” 

Hyrule sighed and shook his head. His hands were shaking. “Nothing, Wars, go on, what did you want to ask?”

Warriors frowned, before asking, “Are you a fairy?”

“Yeah.”

“Uh.” Warriors said, not at all as eloquently as he usually spoke.

Hyrule let his arm fall down from his face, and looked at the captain. He honestly felt a lot better now that the ‘admitting his secret’ part of the conversation was over and done with. “What?”

“... That’s it? You’re just going to admit to it?”

Hyrule shrugged. “Yeah. Why wouldn't I? Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t one?” Warriors shook his head, and Hyrule shrugged again. ”Well, there you go, then.”

“Why didn’t you just tell us before?”

Hyrule shrugged. He was quickly growing tired of shrugging. He was quickly growing tired of this conversation. “I just didn't want to.” The thought of telling the others crossed his mind. Time and Warriors both knew now, and if they knew anything about fairies, he suspected the others were on their way to guessing as well. Despite this, Hyrule felt anxiety twisting in his stomach. He couldn’t tell them. At least not all at once.

The uncertainty of what their reaction would be made him hesitate. Maybe, though, it wouldn't be so bad if he told them one by one?

“Are you going to tell everyone?”

Warriors shook his head quickly. “Not unless you want me to.” Hyrule shook his head wordlessly. That would be the least ideal way for the group to find out, he thinks. He wanted to be there to do damage control, and assess their reactions himself. 

Warriors frowned, patting Hyrule’s knee as he stood up. “I still have questions for you. I don’t want anything like what happened today to happen again, but that can wait. Get some rest.”

As Warriors walked away, Hyrule had a lot to ponder over. 

[rikiluvly]

MIDDLE OF NOWHERE

🥀*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔡𝔦𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔰 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔭𝔲𝔩𝔩 𝔲𝔰 𝔞𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱

tysm to the anon that requested this! <3

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | more to come...

PAIRINGS: vampire!riki x human!reader

SYNOPSIS: you and your mom move into an old mansion after some struggles. but what happens when the mansion is actually occupied by 7 vampires and the youngest just can’t seem to keep his eyes off you.

GENRE: vampire au, fluff, a tiny bit of angst.

WARNINGS: mention of food, slight swearing, and Ni-ki is kinda rude.

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

PREVIOUSLY ON MIDDLE OF NOWHERE:

"I- I saw this shadow walking this way so... I followed it," you tilted your head down feeling slightly ashamed of your foolish behavior. should you have stayed in your dark, lonely bedroom after all?

"that's no shadow y/n, that's out Mother," his voice turned quieter as he looked into your eyes.

"after she died last year her ghost has been foolishly wandering the castle quite a lot, the library was her favorite place, no wonder you caught her coming into here," now that was a surprise, vampires now ghosts?

"I can see why, it's really nice in here," you felt sympathetic for Riki, and the others as well but he seemed really affected by it. as you looked into his eyes for a bit longer you noticed how pretty they were. for a vampire.

"yeah..." his voice drifted off as he maintained eye contact with you. his dark hair, long hair fell beside the sides of his face. up this close, you could see the beauty marks spotted around his face, the one on his chin caught your eye the most.

"you have really nice eyes y/n," he whispered as your faces were so close you swear you could kiss him.

and you did just that.

~ ✩ ‧ ₊ ˚ ~

kissing a vampire? how stupid could you be?! except you really had to admit that the kiss was a special one that would be hard to forget.

after you had both pulled away from the connection of your lips, Riki asked you to meet him by the pond the next day. the pond seemed concerningly scary for you but you were assured by the vampire that it had more to it than just trickles of water.

the weather had just started to change into a warm daze the next day, so what perfect time for you to wear your favourite sundress. It was white with tiny flowers speckled over the linen fabric. you then decided to pair it with a white bow in your hair.

your mother had gone out into the local town to buy some much-needed food and supplies. you took the time you got 'alone' to head outside and meet with Riki. nerves were building up in your gut as you knew that whatever was to come was something not expected.

as you walked outside and approached the pond you could see Riki sitting on the edge with his feet submerged into the water. his head quickly turned around when he noticed your footsteps.

“y/n, you came,” he said having a look of excitement on his face.

“of course I did, wouldn’t wanna miss it for anything,” you said as you analysed the fountain perched in the middle of the water. mermen and mermaids were carved delicately onto the fountain.

you could feel Riki’s eyes on you as you were taking in the art.

“it’s really beautiful Riki,” his strong gaze was fixed on you as he also admired the 'view'.

"c'mon, I've gotta take you somewhere y/n," Riki connected his hand with yours, pulled you along with him, and took you through the forest around the back of the house. tall trees filled the sky and you could hear the rustling of leaves and bushes from the gentle breeze.

you and Riki approached an old grave in between two large oak trees. the name that was engraved was covered with red blood spelling the word 'FATE'.

"this is our mother... I wanted you to meet her properly this time," he took your hand and directed you to sit down in front of the grey stone.

"hi mother, I've brought someone I would like you to meet," you had realized the wind suddenly started to get more chilly when you noticed goosebumps forming on your bare arms and legs.

"her name is y/n, and she claimed to have seen you passing through the hallways at night. I thought we had decided to never enter the house again," the atmosphere started to change completely. the wind was howling intensely along with the rough swaying of the trees. you started to think about how this could be the reason you die, so as instinct you grabbed onto Riki's arm as tightly as you could.

"you're not going to die, sweetheart, not when I'm around," you forgot about that, how he could read minds. "shit, I think I've gotta get Jak-" as those words were coming out of his mouth a vampire with a foot length cloak appeared in front of your eyes.

"no fear pretty girl, Jake has come to save the day," Jake said as he gave you a wink. he's an insanely handsome guy you thought to yourself.

"hey!" Riki nudged your shoulder, you don't even have any privacy in your own thoughts anymore. Riki then whispered in your ear and insisted you close your eyes and bury your head in his shoulder so you don't get afraid. without any hesitation, you do so and suddenly feel the softness of his neck against your cheeks. "do it." you hear Riki say and a few seconds after a loud boom is heard echoing through the forest. you lift your head without any instructions to do so and take in the quiet of your surroundings.

"what happened?" you ask looking into Riki's dark eyes.

"nothing for you to worry about sweetheart, Mother just got a little angry is all," he reassured you and then proceeded to thank Jake.

"also what's with the cloak man? you look like a vampire from the 1800s," Riki said as he smirked while taking in Jake's outfit.

"Jungwon insisted we go through the old cupboard in the attic, and I gotta admit I do look pretty handsome in this cloak," he said as he winked at you for a second time.

"alright, that's enough goodbye now Jake," Jake then disappeared back into the mansion and left you and Riki alone.

"well... that did not go as planned but at least you got to see some of the horrors of living out here," he pulled you off the ground and you began to wipe the dirt from the back of your legs as you started to walk.

"Riki, may I ask, what exactly happened to your Mother?" Riki stopped in his tracks and took a deep breath.

"c'mon, I'll tell you when we reach the library."

~ ✩ ‧ ₊ ˚ ~

“stop being so slow Heeseung!” Riki shouted to his older brother. the chuckles from him and his brothers were projected through the halls of the castle. while Riki and his fellow vampires were playing tag, Riki accidentally tripped and fell on his face. he stood up only to realize his nose was bleeding from the fall.

"you okay little guy?" Jay asked him as he inspected his red nose. "I'll take you to Sunoo don't worry," he held onto Riki's hand and directed him to the living room where their third youngest brother sat. "Sunoo can you help our youngest? he tripped and hurt his nose."

Sunoo came over to inspect Riki's injury. "of course, come here," he patted the seat next to where he was sitting and brought his hand up to cup Riki's cheeks. a light was glowing from Sunoo's warm hands and the blood from Riki's nose was disintegrating into his skin. Sunoo then released his hands from the youngest's face and asked how he feels now.

"I feel a bit funny..."

"you'll be fine, no need to worry." Riki stood up and went back to find the others so they could continue their game of tag.

"hello? Heeseung?" no one was to be found anywhere, the castle was as quiet as it could ever be. however the silence didn't last for very long, a scream was heard from around the corner. Riki was now breathing at a fast pace and his hands were shaking at his sides.

once the boy reached the corner he peeked his head to only be met with the dead body of his Mother.

a funeral was held a few days after when the brothers had finally come to reality that their Mother had passed. the seven boys surrounded the grave to say their goodbyes when suddenly red blood started to appear on the grave. the blood started to spell out a specific word.

FATE.

~ ✩ ‧ ₊ ˚ ~

"I'm so sorry Riki..." you felt extremely bad for the seven boys. you could never understand the feeling of losing a Mother. the story gave you more drive to protect your own Mom knowing that the same thing could happen to her.

"It's okay y/n, we still don't know who killed her but... I just want to promise you that I won't let anything like this happen to you or your Mother, I want you to feel safe here," you do feel safer than when you first moved into the house that's for sure.

"I feel as safe as I could be Riki, but I should probably make my way back now, I loved spending this time with you," you stood up to make your way out of the library.

"be safe y/n."

"always," you gave him one last smile as you closed the door behind you. you really should have kissed him, how can someone go from being so rude to being so… nice?

the walk back into the kitchen felt like an eternity. you entered the room only to be met with your Mom unpacking bags of food.

“so, what were you doing when I was gone?” you hated lying, especially to your own Mom.

“I just spent some time reading in the library, y’know just checking out the books,” sure you were.

“right well let’s get lunch ready.” when lunch was mentioned you felt like you hadn’t eaten for days. once your lunch was cooked you made your way into the dining room.

to your surprise the table was occupied by six of the brothers. “what are you guys doing here!” you whispered while taking a good look at the cups of blood placed on the table. you brought your eyes to meet the empty chair that was usually to be occupied by Riki.

“lunch is served!” your mom came storming into the room and gave you a confused look. “Honey, what’s up, you look like you've seen a ghost."

can she really not see them?

A/N: hope you enjoy it! likes and reblogs would be deeply appreciated!

TALGISTL: @they2luv1naia @lwavander @itzz-me-duh @wzy3ka @lari-05 @entenen @143won @heysunghoon @soobiverse @cinasual @j-wyoung @heartbreakrikiversary @angelicjuicey @crybqbyme @hsgwrld-archive @mrchweeee @yanqiiuver @certified-niki-lover @rikisblackgf @loumin908 @jena4realz @imsodazed

[writingforstraykids]

My heart remains with you

Pairing: Minchan

Word Count: 4430

Summary: Prince Minho, the neglected second son of the king finds a dear friend in Chan who later becomes his knight. When war parts them the lines of friendship and love start to blur.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, angst, friends to lovers, knight!chan, prince!min, first kiss, cheesy af

A/N: This has been requested by my dear unnie @skzoologist and I've had so much fun writing this yesterday🤭 I hope you guys enjoy this little Minchan au🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

The Kingdom of Elyria was renowned for its beauty, with landscapes sprawling across temperate forests, serene lakes, and majestic mountains. However, the true splendor lay within the walls of the Lee Castle, a grand structure of ancient stone and sprawling gardens, perched atop a hill that overlooked the capital city. Here resided the royal family, rulers of Elyria for generations.

Minho, the second son of the King, was often overshadowed by his elder brother, the crown prince. Where he was charismatic and warrior-like, fitting the mold of a future king, Minho was introspective and bookish, with a quiet demeanor and a sharp mind that gravitated towards scholarly pursuits. His mother, the Queen, often said that while his brother was born to rule, Minho was born to think.

From a young age, Minho felt the heavy cloak of neglect that often accompanies the life of a second son in a royal dynasty. The court paid him little attention, focusing their ambitions and hopes on his brother. Minho's days were largely spent wandering the vast halls of Lee Castle, exploring its many secrets, from dusty old libraries filled with ancient tomes to forgotten corridors that echoed with the whispers of the past.

His solitude was broken the day Chan entered his life. The son of a lesser noble who had fallen on hard times, Chan was sent to Lee Castle to serve as Minho’s page. He was quiet, observant, and meticulously responsible, qualities that quickly made him indispensable to Minho. What started as a formal relationship, bound by duty and station, soon blossomed into a genuine friendship. Chan was Minho's gateway to the world outside the scholarly nooks he favored. Through Chan's eyes, Minho learned about the people of Elyria, the struggles of the lesser nobility, and the realities of life beyond the castle walls.

Together, they would sneak out of the castle under the guise of night, exploring the city disguised as commoners. These escapades provided Minho with a perspective of his kingdom that books could not offer, and they instilled in him a sense of responsibility towards his people, a trait that his tutors found most peculiar for a royal second son.

As they grew older, their roles within the castle solidified. Minho took on more scholarly duties, often advising his father on matters of law and history, while Chan trained in the arts of warfare and strategy, rising in rank among the knights of Elyria. Despite their increasingly divergent paths, their friendship remained steadfast. Chan was always there, a protective shadow, ensuring Minho’s safety during their covert outings and supporting him in his scholarly debates against dismissive courtiers.

Their favorite haunt was the castle’s oldest garden, an overgrown labyrinth of flowering vines and ancient statues, hidden behind the west wing, rarely visited by others. It was here that they shared their deepest fears and greatest hopes. Minho confessed his anxieties about being forgotten, a relic in the shadow of his brother’s destiny, while Chan spoke of his desire to restore his family's honor.

As they sat beside a crumbling fountain, under the shade of a towering oak, Minho realized that Chan had become more than a friend or a confidant. He was his anchor, holding Minho steady in the turbulent seas of royal life. In return, Minho offered Chan a vision of a future where friendship and loyalty defined a man’s worth, not just birth or title.

This friendship, deepened through shared secrets and dreams under the canopy of stars, laid the foundation for a bond that would, in time, challenge the very traditions of their world. But in those early days, it was simply the prince and his knight, finding solace and understanding in each other’s company, building a friendship that would one day be tested by the trials of war, duty, and the heart.

-

Under the celestial tapestry of the night sky, the garden was a tranquil sanctuary, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. It was here, amidst the whisper of leaves and the gentle fragrance of night-blooming flowers, that Minho and Chan found themselves, seeking solace from the demands of their lives at court. 

Minho, with his head resting comfortably against Chan’s chest, could hear the steady beat of his heart—a reassuring rhythm in the quiet of the night. The sounds of the castle seemed distant here, as if the garden were not part of the kingdom but a separate realm altogether. Chan’s hand was gentle as it stroked Minho’s hair, a touch that spoke of deep affection and understanding.

“Chan,” Minho began, his voice a mere whisper, mingling with the rustling leaves around them. “Do you ever think about what life might be like, years from now? When the responsibilities of the crown are mine to bear?”

Chan paused, considering the weight of the question. Minho's brother had been sick often over the years and it seemed to worsen each time. The possibility was given and widened with each time. “I do,” he admitted softly. “I think about it more often than I probably should. But in every vision of the future, I see myself by your side. Maybe not as a knight, perhaps not even as a noble, but always as your confidant, your protector.”

Minho shifted slightly, turning to look up at Chan, his eyes reflecting the silver light of the moon. “Even if the path I walk takes us far from everything we know? Even if the crown leads me into storms I must weather?”

“Especially then,” Chan replied, his voice firm with conviction. “Every king needs a steady hand to hold in the darkest hours. If the fates allow, I would be that hand for you, Minho.”

The prince smiled, comforted by the sincerity in Chan’s words. “I often dream of a future where our kingdom is at peace, where our days are not dictated by tradition and duty but by what is just and good. I dream of a court where the ideas of every man, noble or not, are heard and valued.”

“And I,” Chan added, “dream of a time when our friendship need not be hidden in the shadows of these gardens, when the world can see the strength of our bond and know it for the force it is.”

They envisioned a kingdom that thrived on innovation and diplomacy, where scholars and warriors alike debated in halls as grand as those reserved for feasts. They saw a court that celebrated the arts, where music and poetry flourished, resonating through the corridors of Lee Castle.

“Perhaps,” Minho mused, his imagination alight with possibility, “we could open the castle's libraries to the people, let knowledge be a bridge between the crown and those it serves.”

Chan nodded, his chest swelling with pride at Minho’s ideas. “And the armies could be reformed too, trained not just in combat, but in the arts of peace. They could be protectors of the realm’s ideals, not just its borders.”

They talked on, each vision they shared weaving a tapestry richer than the last. In their kingdom, justice would be tempered with mercy, power with humility. They saw a future where their own union could become a symbol of the unity they hoped to foster throughout the realm.

As the hours waned, Minho’s voice grew weary, yet his spirit was alight with hope. “Do you think it’s possible, Chan? That we might really see such days?”

Chan’s response was a gentle squeeze, reassuring and strong. “With you as king? I believe the future holds great promise. And I will do everything in my power to see it realized. Together, we could craft a legacy that will outlast us both.”

The night deepened around them, the stars wheeling overhead in their slow dance. In the quiet that followed, filled only with the sounds of the night and the closeness of their breathing, Minho felt a profound gratitude for the man beside him. Here in the garden, with Chan’s warmth enveloping him, the fears and uncertainties of the future seemed distant. For now, it was enough to dream, to plan, and to believe in the potential of their shared visions.

As dawn began to paint the horizon with strokes of pink and gold, Minho and Chan rose from their place among the flowers. They returned to the castle, their steps light with the intimate joy of shared secrets and cherished dreams. The garden remained behind them, a silent witness to their hopes, holding the promise of their return.

Their conversation that night, under the watchful gaze of the stars, would be remembered in the years to come as a declaration of intent—an oath made not just to each other, but to the future they dared to envision. In their hearts, they carried the seeds of change, nurtured by the strength of their unity and the depth of their resolve. As they stepped back into the roles demanded by their birthright, they did so with a newfound purpose, ready to face whatever challenges awaited with the knowledge that they would not face them alone.

-

As the shadows of dusk fell over Lee Castle, the usual sounds of laughter and clinking glasses from the dining hall were replaced by the clanging of armor and the murmur of tense voices. The atmosphere was charged with a palpable sense of urgency; Elyria was on the brink of war with its long-time rival kingdom to the north, and every soul within the castle walls felt the looming threat of battle.

Minho, usually a pillar of calm and reason, found himself wandering the castle's corridors with a restlessness that mirrored the unease gripping his heart. His days were filled with drawing maps and devising strategies, yet he felt sidelined, his efforts overshadowed by his brother’s bold, commanding presence. Everywhere he looked, the preparations for war were in full swing, yet in this bustling activity, Minho felt an acute sense of isolation.

As night descended, Minho sought refuge in the one place that had always offered him solace—the hidden garden where countless memories of his childhood with Chan lingered in the perfumed air and rustling leaves. It was here, under the canopy of ancient trees and starlight, that he awaited Chan’s arrival, the weight of impending separation heavy on his shoulders.

Chan appeared at the edge of the garden, his silhouette outlined by the moonlight, his armor casting a metallic glow. Seeing Chan in full knight's attire, prepared for battle, struck Minho with a wave of emotion. Chan’s stride was confident, but as he drew closer, Minho could see the gravity of the situation reflected in his eyes.

They sat together beside the old, moss-covered fountain, their spot for heartfelt conversations. The air around them was cool and fragrant, filled with the scent of night jasmine and the distant sound of the castle’s preparations.

“Promise me you’ll return,” Minho whispered, his voice barely above a hush, betraying his fear of losing his closest friend, the one constant in his life.

Chan turned to face him, his expression serious. “I promise,” he replied, his voice steady but his eyes revealing the strain of the commitment he was making. “I will come back to you, Minho. You must believe that.”

Minho nodded, trying to mask his anxiety with a semblance of a smile. “I will hold you to that promise, Chan. You have always been my protector, my confidant. I cannot fathom facing the future without you.”

Chan reached out, taking Minho’s hands in his. “And you are my reason to return. Whatever battles we face, remember that my heart remains with you.” He paused, squeezing Minho’s hands gently. “In my absence, I need you to promise me something too.”

“Anything,” Minho replied, the intensity of the moment drawing him closer to Chan.

“Keep the kingdom steady. Use your intellect, your wisdom. You know the court, the politics, the people. Guide them, Minho. Help them see the path of peace and reason. Your voice can be just as mighty as any sword.”

Minho felt the weight of Chan’s request settle on him, a mantle he was now ready to accept. “I will do my best. I will keep Elyria safe, for you.”.

As dawn broke, coloring the sky in hues of pink and orange, Chan stood, his armor clinking softly. He pulled Minho to his feet, embracing him tightly, a silent promise passing between them. They lingered there, in the embrace, until the first calls of the morning birds signaled the unavoidable arrival of the day.

Minho didn't know what came over him but he cupped Chan's face and pressed a short, soft kiss on his forehead. “To keep you safe, my strong knight,” he whispered and Chan's face softened. 

He brought Minho's hand to his lips, kissing his knuckles gently. “Never lose hope, my dear prince,” he told him.

Chan stepped back, armor gleaming in the new light, and with one last reassuring nod, he turned and walked away, his figure gradually swallowed by the mists of the early morning. Minho watched him go, the promise of his safe return a flickering flame against the darkness of his fears. Tears burned in his eyes once he was alone and he hugged himself tightly. Never lose hope. 

As the sounds of the castle waking reached his ears, Minho turned back to the empty garden, his resolve hardened. He would rise to the challenge Chan had left him; he would be the voice of reason Elyria needed, awaiting the day he could once again share this secret sanctuary with Chan.

Three years later

The war that had ravaged the lands and darkened the souls of many finally drew to a close after three long years. Minho had spent those years in a state of perpetual worry, each day stretched thin by the fear and hope that war naturally inspires. Chan’s letters were his only solace, rare as they were, each one treasured and read over until the words seemed to echo in the halls of Lee Castle itself.

My dear Minho,

I find myself in a rare moment of peace, and my thoughts turn to you and the sanctuary of our garden. I recall the fragrance of the blooming night jasmine, the way the moonlight filters through the leaves. These memories sustain me in ways rations and rest cannot. I long for the day when I can leave this behind and return to where my heart remains. To you.

Hold fast to our dreams; they are the beacon guiding me back to you.

With all my heart, Chan.

Minho, in the quiet after his official duties, would retreat to their garden, where he penned his replies, each word a thread in the tapestry of hope he wove for both their sakes.

Dearest Chan,

Your letter arrived on a cool, starlit night, much like those we’ve shared. I read your words beneath our oak, where the shadows seem less fearsome with you in mind. The garden grows wild in your absence, each vine and flower straining towards the sun, much as I reach for our promised tomorrow.

Stay safe, my friend, for Elyria, and for me.

Always, Minho.

When the declaration of peace finally reached the castle, Minho could scarcely believe it. The relief was overwhelming, tempered only by the anticipation of Chan’s return. He arranged for the garden to be restored to its former glory, wanting Chan to return not just to Elyria, but to the beauty they had once cultivated together.

As Minho sat under the oak, his gaze fixed on the path that led to the garden, he held a crumpled piece of the last letter Chan had sent him, reading and rereading the words that had offered him solace through the darkest days.

Min, my dear,

Peace is upon us, and I am coming home. The thought of seeing you, of standing in our garden, and shedding this armor weighs on my heart with a sweet ache. I am weary, Minho, changed by the shadows I’ve seen, but I hold onto the light of your friendship, knowing it will guide me back from the brink.

Prepare the garden; I am carrying seeds from across the lands we’ve marched—let’s plant new life together, foster growth from the ashes of destruction.

See you soon, my brave prince.

Chan.

My dearest Channie,

By the time this letter reaches you, I hope to be counting merely hours until your return. The garden is waiting, the foxgloves and lilies have blossomed, and I’ve taken to reading aloud in the afternoons, foolishly pretending it’s to you. The castle has felt emptier without your laughter and your steady presence.

I wait for you, my friend, with a heart full of stories to share and an ear eager to hear yours. Come back to us, to me, soon.

Yours, always and forever,

Minho.

On the day of Chan’s return, Minho waited in the garden, their sanctuary and witness to the depths of their bond. The air was fragrant with the scent of fresh blooms, a soft breeze playing among the leaves, as if nature itself was celebrating Chan’s return.

As Chan stepped into the garden, his armor shed and replaced by the simple garb of a knight at peace, his eyes found Minho’s, and for a moment, it was as if no time had passed at all. They moved towards each other almost instinctively, their embrace a testament to the years of waiting, of hoping, and of holding on.

“Minho,” Chan murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I made it back.”

“You did,” Minho replied, his own voice choked by tears. “Just as you promised.”

They stood there, in the heart of the garden, unable to let go, each touch and breath a reaffirmation of their connection. The war had changed them, undoubtedly. Chan’s eyes held shadows, his smile touched by a melancholy that hadn’t been there before. But here, in the embrace of his closest friend, there was a sense of coming home, of the weight lifting, if only for a moment.

As they finally stepped back, hands still clasped between them, Minho looked up at Chan with a small, hopeful smile. “Let’s walk,” he suggested, guiding them down the familiar paths, their steps slow as they reacquainted themselves not just with the garden, but with each other.

They talked of many things—of the war, of those they had lost, of the future. Chan spoke of the battles, but more of the men and women he fought alongside, of the small acts of bravery and kindness that had illuminated the darkest days. Minho listened, his heart aching for the pain and pride woven through Chan’s words, offering his silent support and understanding.

As the sun set, painting the sky with strokes of gold and crimson, they found themselves by the old fountain, its waters murmuring softly in the background. Minho reached out, tracing a scar on Chan’s arm, a new addition since the war. “It seems we both have scars to bear,” he said softly.

Chan looked at him, a gentle acknowledgment in his gaze. His fingers traced the scar located on Minho's stomach through layers of fabric, still knowing exactly where to find it. “Yes, but we’ll bear them together, won’t we?”

Minho nodded, squeezing Chan’s hand. “Together,” he affirmed.

In the sanctuary of their garden, with the shadows of war slowly fading into the background, Minho and Chan rediscovered the strength of their bond. Here, in the twilight of their reunion, they began to weave new dreams, grounded in the realities they had faced but looking forward to a future they would shape together. In this shared space, they were not just a prince and his knight; they were two souls, scarred but unbroken, bound by a friendship that had endured the greatest of trials.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink, Minho and Chan sat together in their secluded garden, enveloped by the serene twilight. The world around them quieted to a soft murmur, allowing the gentle sounds of nature to fill the air—a distant birdcall, the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. It was in these peaceful moments that their conversations often drifted from the mundane to the profound.

Today, however, as Minho watched the sunset cast its golden light on Chan's face, illuminating the lines of strain and the scars of war, he saw him not just as his friend or his protector, but as something more profound, more integral to his very being. Chan's features, etched with the experiences of battle, held a rugged beauty, a testament to his strength and resilience. Minho’s heart swelled with an emotion that was tender and overwhelming, realizing that his feelings had grown beyond the bounds of friendship into something deeper, something akin to love.

“Chan, do you ever think of a different life?” Minho asked, his voice soft but laden with emotion, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and hope.

Chan turned to him, a gentle smile playing on his lips, his eyes reflecting the fading light. “All the time, but always with you in it.”

The simplicity of the statement, and the sincerity in Chan’s gaze, struck a chord within Minho. He felt a warmth spread through him, a clarity about his feelings that he had never allowed himself to fully acknowledge. Here, beside him, was not just his knight but the person he loved, deeply and irrevocably.

Chan, noticing the change in Minho’s expression, the way his eyes lingered and his cheeks flushed with a subtle hue, felt a stirring of his own heart. He had always seen Minho’s beauty—in his gentle demeanor, in his sharp intellect, and in the kindness that radiated from him like sunlight. But now, under the soft glow of twilight, Chan saw Minho in a new light, realizing how central Minho had become to his every thought of the future, how his days were brighter, his burdens lighter with Minho by his side.

“Minho,” Chan began, his voice low and earnest, “these years, these trials, have shown me so much about strength and resilience. But none of that compares to what I've discovered about myself, about us. You are in every vision of my future because you are the part of my life that brings me peace, joy, and a sense of home.”

Minho turned to face Chan fully, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, moved by Chan’s words. “I've been afraid,” Minho confessed, “afraid of acknowledging how deeply I feel, how much you mean to me. Not just as a friend, but as the one I love, the one I cannot envision my life without.”

Chan reached out, brushing a tear from Minho’s cheek with a tenderness that belied his warrior’s hands. “Then let's not hide from these feelings anymore,” he said softly. “Let’s explore this path together, no matter where it leads.”

As the last light of the day gave way to the stars, Minho and Chan remained in the garden, their hands entwined, their hearts open to the possibilities of a future together. Under the vast expanse of the starlit sky, Minho and Chan found themselves lingering in the garden, unwilling to end the evening that had transformed their relationship forever. The night was quiet, with only the soft whisper of the wind rustling through the leaves and the distant call of a nightingale. The air was cool, carrying the fresh, earthy scent of the garden after dusk.

As they stood beside the old fountain, now just a silhouette against the dark sky, their conversation dwindled into comfortable silence. Both were keenly aware of the new, delicate territory they had ventured into, each heartbeat seeming loud in the quiet of the night.

Minho looked up at Chan, noticing how the moonlight danced across his features, softening the hard lines of battle and time, casting him in a glow that seemed almost otherworldly. Chan’s eyes, usually so strong and assertive, now held a gentle uncertainty that Minho had never seen before but found endearing.

“Chan,” Minho began, his voice barely above a whisper as he stepped closer. “Thank you, for being my strength, for always being here.”

Chan’s response was a soft smile, his eyes reflecting a depth of emotion that words could barely capture. “Minho, there’s no place I would rather be,” he replied, his voice equally low.

In that moment, with the moon witnessing their solitude and the serene night embracing them, Minho felt a pull, a desire to bridge the gap of inches that still lay between them. His heart raced as he reached up, tentatively, to touch Chan’s cheek, his fingers trembling slightly.

Chan’s breath hitched at the contact, a shiver running through him, not from the chill of the night but from the warmth of Minho’s touch. He looked down into Minho’s eyes, seeing the open adoration and the silent question they posed. With a gentle firmness born of years of holding back, Chan lowered his head slowly, giving Minho time to pull away if he wished.

Minho’s response was to close the distance, his eyes fluttering shut as he leaned in. Their lips met in a kiss that was tentative at first, a soft brush of warmth that held a question neither had dared to ask aloud until now. When neither pulled away, the kiss deepened, growing in confidence and heat. Chan’s hands moved to cup Minho’s face, his touch sure, and Minho sighed into the kiss, his arms wrapping around Chan’s waist to pull him closer.

The world around them seemed to fade, leaving nothing but the two of them locked in an embrace that sealed their newly acknowledged feelings. The kiss was a mixture of all the emotions they had shared over the years—joy, fear, longing, and above all, love. It was a kiss that spoke of past struggles, present understanding, and a future filled with endless possibilities.

When they finally parted, breathless and hearts pounding, they rested their foreheads together, a smile playing on both their lips.

“We should have done this a long time ago,” Minho murmured, his breath warm against Chan’s lips.

“Yes, we should have,” Chan agreed, his voice thick with emotion. “But we’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

They stayed like that for a while, in the quiet of the garden, surrounded by the peace of the night, letting the significance of their first kiss sink in. It was a perfect moment, one that marked the beginning of a new chapter in their lives, filled with the promise of shared tomorrows.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @michelle4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143 @sapphirewaves

[apomaro-mellow]

Mafia AU Part 2

After the party, life went on as usual. Eddie really thought nothing of it until he and Wayne had to go back to the Marini estate a few days later. It was Eddie's second time ever being there, so he assumed he would be included in some sort of important conversation. But instead, his uncle went through a door and left him behind. Before the door was shut, he got a glimpse of the Don himself. Wayne told him to sit outside and behave himself. Which Eddie did. For about a minute.

If they were in a completely different room anyway. It's not like they're going to see where he goes or what he does. He could pull his pants down and moon the door for all they'd know about it. Eddie kept his pants on though. He stood from the chair and started to explore. Since today was supposed to be important gathering, he was dressed for it again today. Button down shirt, gray slacks and suspenders. No jacket though and Wayne had said that was fine.

He almost wished he did though. The Marinis (or was it the Harringtons?) had plenty of little trinkets around their mansion that would've been fun to smuggle out. He could probably still fit something in his pocket though. Like the tiny but beautiful crystal dolphin that was sitting amongst other things in a hallway alcove. Eddie snatched it right up and put both hands in his pocket, whistling away. Get this to the right pawn shop and he and Wayne could be sitting pretty for a while. And these rich fucks wouldn't even notice it missing.

Eddie passed by a window and saw that there was quite the garden outside. A nice stroll in nature was just what he needed. He and Wayne lived in a tiny ass apartment in the city. Not a lot of chances to see green outside the florist. Once he got out there, he put his hat back on to shade his eyes. Eddie took a deep breath, taking in the scent of the leaves, of the flowers, and of...something else. He sniffed some more as he walked, the faint smell getting stronger and then he heard voices.

Steve was here.

With someone.

Ahead of Eddie was a tall hedge, covered in roses. It looked like someone could get lost in there. And when Eddie entered, he quickly realized it was a maze. He grinned. Now this was entertainment. He wondered what they had in the middle? Probably some kind of centerpiece? Eddie was still following that scent of Steve. It was soft and sweet and he knew he was getting close. Eddie peeked around a corner and saw Steve sitting on a bench, talking to a girl, a beta. Obviously this was the center. It had a fountain, which was a little disappointing.

He didn't know what either of them were saying as they were both speaking Italian. All Eddie knew were a few curse words. The girl got up and left Steve, exiting the other way. Eddie was about to announce his presence when Tommy of all people swooped in.

"That took me forever. Guess you're just better at this maze, than me."

"Well, I've been through it a few times", Steve said.

Tommy sat down next to Steve, just a little too close for Eddie's comfort, knowing that Tommy had Steve in his sights. He had no idea how Steve felt. Maybe Tommy was the alpha of his dreams. But he was doubtful, seeing as the omega turned his head away.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?", Eddie announced himself, walking over.

Tommy clearly didn't want him here. He was straight up glaring at Eddie while putting an arm across the bench, like he was already claiming Steve. Steve didn't seem mad at being interrupted. If anything, he looked intrigued.

"What are you doing here, Munson?"

"I can't stop and smell the roses?", Eddie asked, leaning over to sniff at one of the blossoms that were nose height on the hedge.

"It's rude to walk around someone else's place. And imagine if I weren't here", Tommy looked to Steve as he said this. "It's not proper for an omega to be alone with an alpha, both of them unmated."

Steve opened his mouth but Eddie beat him to it. "And what're you? Chopped liver?"

"The boss trusts me. Comes with the territory of being a family friend."

"You must get sooo many perks."

"Tommy, you mind going to check on lunch for me?", Steve asked.

Tommy's head swiveled. "What? Am I your errand boy now?"

Steve leveled him a look that said 'you always have been'. "My father trusts you so much, after all."

"...But...I can't...", his eyes glanced to Eddie.

"I'm not getting less hungry the longer you sit here." Steve put his chin in his hand. "I wonder if there's anyone else here who's better at listening and following orders?"

Tommy got up, straightened his jacket, and walked off, purposely bumping shoulders with Eddie on the way out. Eddie felt the slightest urge to knock heads with him for that, but he was more curious about why Steve would get them alone like this. Tommy was right, being alone with an alpha like him wouldn't be good for Steve's reputation. Especially a lowborn one like Eddie, who technically wasn't even part of the family.

"What kind of lunch do they serve in this joint? I bet you guys get veal here", Eddie said, just trying to fill the silence as Steve inspected him from the bench.

"Your uncle is in a meeting right now. Do you know why?"

Eddie shrugged. "They kept me outside, so I haven't the slightest." Then he grinned. "Maybe they're discussing your dowry to the Hagans."

"Not funny", Steve said, even though he was smiling. "You're still standing."

"Munsons get beat down but we always get back up."

"No, I mean, there's room for you to sit. Why aren't you sitting?"

"And take Hagan's spot? Isn't this the job where you try NOT to make enemies?"

"Are you afraid of Tommy?", Steve asked, eyebrow raised.

Eddie scoffed. "Of him? I called the guy chopped liver but at least that tastes good on bread. I wouldn't spread Tommy on the stalest of crackers."

"I'm going to assume that's an insult because I've never had chopped liver."

Eddie tapped his chin and then snapped his fingers. "It's the poor man's foie gras."

"Ah, so meat mush", Steve nodded in understanding.

"Delicious meat mush. If that fancy pate isn't your thing, you gotta try the deli I got to. Ms. Byers is a small woman but she can butcher the hell out of anything and make it good."

"Maybe she should join the family." Steve smiled at Eddie and then patted the empty space next to him.

Eddie eyed it, feeling tempted, yet not entirely trusting himself. He didn't know Steve that well, but he knew the kinds of games that omegas like to play sometimes. Especially the bored, rich ones. Eddie had never met a bored and rich omega before Steve but he'd heard stories. They got their kicks with alphas, playing around with them until they got caught. And it was always the alpha who paid the price for deflowering an omega that didn't belong to them, ruining them for marriage. Eddie thought maybe they could be afforded more progressive thinking in the year 1986, but for some folks their memory and values didn't go past 1945. Well really, some of them 1870.

In fact, it already felt like playing with fire being alone with Steve for this long. It didn't matter that they were outside, anyone could use this against them.

"I think I should be getting back to my uncle. He still thinks I'm a kid and if I'm not where he left me, he'll put on a search party."

"Sounds like he cares."

"Oh no, he just wants to curb any potential property damage. He lost me at the fair once and by the time he found me, I had already set fire to a kiddy coaster."

Steve laughed, a real laugh, and it was like a bell. He stood up and Eddie noticed that they were practically wearing the same outfit, right down to the suspenders. The only difference, which Eddie could see as he got closer, was the quality. Everything looked perfectly tailored to him. Steve grabbed his jacket off the bench and slid it back on.

"Well then, you'd best get back to your uncle. I wouldn't want you to set off any fires."

"And you? How does a mobster spend a lovely afternoon like this?"

"Steve?! Hey Steve! Where are you!?", Tommy's voice rang somewhere in the distance.

"Helping his friend find his way out of a maze that he's been doing since he was ten", Steve sighed.

Eddie shrugged. "Eh, so mazes aren't his forte. Everyone's got their strengths."

"And what would you say are yours?", Steve asked, tilting his head.

Eddie heard footsteps approaching and decided to be just the smallest bit bold. He took a few steps closer to Steve, so that they were almost toe to toe. He wondered if it spoke to Steve's confidence in holding his own in a fight or if he just knew he could have Eddie killed no problem that he didn't flinch or take a step back.

"I'm good with my hands", Eddie said, patting Steve on the chest just as someone shouted "Hey!"

Eddie took a step back and there was that girl from before. She looked ready to beat Eddie with a stick but also scared if she'd have to do it. Eddie kept her from having to make the choice and stepped away from Steve, hands up and clear.

"I'll be taking my leave now, Mr. Harrington", he said with a slight bow.

"I'll be seeing you, Mr. Munson."

Eddie turned and left, finding his way out of the maze with ease but not before running into Tommy and pointing him in the direction of a dead end. He'd figure it out eventually. And if not, well the Marini staff had to be pretty good at disposing of bodies.

Back in the center, Steve was still staring at the spot Eddie had vacated.

"Hello? Earth to Steve? That was Eddie Munson? Seemed pretty handsy."

Steve patted the pocket on his jacket and took something out. One of the crystal figurines that were around the house. This one, a dolphin. Steve's lips curled up in a smile. "Yeah. That was Munson. Come on, Robin. I need to talk with my father."

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

Eddie and Wayne didn't talk the whole way home, except for Eddie asking if they could stop by the deli first. Talking with Steve had gotten him hungry for it. And Wayne looked like he had something on his mind. Almost as soon as they got home, the phone rang and Wayne got on, talking for at least a half an hour. It seemed important, so Eddie stayed put in the apartment, giving him privacy but keeping himself available.

Wayne hung up with a sigh and rubbed his face. Eddie was in the middle of ironing clothes for both of them.

"What's up?", he asked.

"You're being sponsored", Wayne said.

"....What?"

"Sponsored. You. To be in the family."

Eddie nearly dropped the iron in his shock. He cursed and turned to unplug it and get away from the hot metal. "I'm being sponsored? When?! By who?!"

"Now don't get all excited. Initiation is going to be some of the hardest work you'll ever do. And even then, it's not a guarantee you'll get in."

"But this is good, right?! If I get in, we'll both be part of the family! We can get out of this crummy apartment and afford more than one suit and-and pay off our debts and our lives won't suck! We can break the Munson curse!"

"Ain't no curse, how many times I gotta tell you that?"

Eddie frowned at him. "Is that why my mom's life was all daisies and butter when she met my dad?"

"'Daisies and butter'?"

"People say that."

"Who? The ladies down at the bingo parlor?"

"You're doing that thing. You're making jokes", Eddie pointed out.

"Well who do you think you get it from?"

"Wayne...I want to do this. I can do this. And if we're both bringing in the big bucks, we can make our lives better. Even without the curse, that's a fact."

Wayne sighed and sat down on the couch heavily. Even he was thinking a new one would be nice. But at the cost of his nephew? He looked up at him, eyes sad.

"I never wanted this life for you."

Eddie sat down next to him. "A little late for that. So who's my sponsor? Is it Swirly?"

"Well that's the strangest thing. For whatever reason, the boss' son himself said he wanted to sponsor you."

"Steve?", Eddie squeaked.

"Oh he's 'Steve' now, is he?"

"He's always been-okay don't give me that look I haven't-we haven't... I talked to him once, well, technically twice, but you were there the first time! And nothing happened the second time. I have witnesses! Uh, they only saw part of it, but I-you-you're messing with me, aren't you?"

"About Steve Harrington being your sponsor? No. But I'm enjoying watching my nephew get in a tizzy over a handsome omega. Just make sure you don't ever forget who he is", Wayne reminded him.

"Oh trust me, I won't. He looks like everything touches turns to gold. Too rich for my blood."

"It's not even really about him. It's about his father. And what he could do to us if he thinks we've stepped out of line. And I know how you like to toe the line."

"With the trained expertise of a ballerina~"

"You get that from your father. And he tripped up and landed himself behind bars. He got off lucky. Cross the Marinis and they won't be so generous", Wayne warned.

"Got it, putting the pointe shoes away." Eddie knew this was no small gesture. Being sponsored meant everything. Something he said or did must've resonated with Steve. Or maybe this was still a bored, rich omega game. Either way, he wasn't going to waste this chance.

Part 4

[desultory-novice]

I was pinged with an interesting post by @newthinkerer and before I knew it, I had drawn this. (Featuring some familiar HC and AUs)

-

Edit: Ack the muted colors was bothering the heck out of me. I lightened them plus threw a characterful tinge on each panel.

I drew this in a rush so it's no surprise it's a little messy/all over the place but in case it's really unclear what's going on: you have Magolor with his park plans in the background, finding himself subconsciously drawn toward the Master Crown, Joronia looking into her birthday present (with accompanying flowers) and finding herself first beginning to question her appearance, a certain swordboy from a certain AU alone in the snowy drifts of Shiver Star, a certain young Noddy coming face to face with the Nightmare inhabiting the Fountain of Dreams that's going to drastically change the direction of his life, a certain father's tear-stained pocket watch frozen in time after a lab accident opens up a time-space portal, and a Lab Discovera researcher (Wondog cameo!!) as some kind of proposal related to ID-F86 gets turned down...

[mint-yooxgi]

{15} - Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Hongjoong)

Words: 8,068

Warnings: Insecurities, violent thoughts/comments, uncertainty. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: So, I totally didn’t expect this scene with Hongjoong to be as long as it was, but you know what, he deserves it. I really enjoyed writing it, so I hope you’ll all enjoy reading it. Also, smut next chapter hehehe (probably). As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Main Story - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - Part Thirteen - Part Fourteen - Mini Masterlist

“I thought I would find you here,” the gentle hum of a voice draws your attention to the open doorway of the garden, where you can see Hongjoong slowly beginning to make his way over to you.

Currently, you sit comfortably on one of the benches off to the left of the fountain, watching the water gently trickle and ripple out as the scent of all of your favourite flowers surrounds you. It’s been exactly three days since that night you’ve shared with Mingi, and you just really needed some fresh air. Not that you’re in a horrible mood, or anything, you’ve just had too much time to think.

One habit of yours that you’ve never been able to break is overthinking things. Sure, it may not be as bad now as it was at the start of this whole fiasco, but still, sometimes you cannot help but get caught up in your own head.

It also just seems to be one of those days. A day of which you just feel more down on yourself than usual. Luckily, it hasn’t happened for a little while, but still, it occurs more than you’d like to admit.

“May I sit with you?” He stands a mere two feet away from the bench, hands clasped behind his back as a soft look rests on his features.

A nod of your head is all the confirmation he receives.

Keeping his movements light, Hongjoong slowly takes a seat on the opposite side of the bench that you’re sitting on. His hands rest in his lap as he folds them over one another, extending his legs out in front of him so that his ankles are crossed.

A minute passes in silence. Then another, and another, with you still staring intently at that fountain. That is, until Hongjoong’s gentle voice calling out to you manages to pull you out of your thoughts once more.

“What seems to be on your mind, My Love?”

A long sigh escapes your nose as you exhale, chest deflating with your breath as your thumbs begin to run over each other slowly. You notice you have his complete and utter attention as he turns slightly to face you, the concern clear in his eyes.

“I just-“ you let out another sigh, seemingly searching for the right words. Your lips part, before closing again, until you finally settle on what it is that you want to say. “I am overwhelmed.”

Immediately, he’s sitting upright, worry clear on his features as he reaches out for you. Only, he stops himself halfway, unsure of whether or not you would want his touch comforting you, or even if you would let him.

“Have we done something to upset you?” The question is posed in a concerned tone, Hongjoong needing to know what’s wrong, and how he can fix it as soon as possible.

“No, no,” you shake your head. “Please, do not misunderstand. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my entire life.”

Slowly, carefully, Hongjoong reaches over to place a caring hand on top of your own, which haven’t seemed to stop nervously toying with each other since before he arrived. You freeze slightly, but do not shy away from his touch as you finally look up to meet his gaze.

“Then, what could be bothering you so greatly, My Love?” His voice is soft, the thumb of his one hand tracing over the skin of your own.

Once more, you avert your gaze to your lap, staring intently at his hand resting over your own. At the way he seems to halt his movement of his thumb over the skin of the back of your hand, you can tell that he’s probably about to pull away from you. Only, you seem to surprise both him, and yourself, as you turn your hand to place your palm directly against his own, fingers intertwining as you practically cling onto him for support.

Then, as if confessing to the greatest sin of your life, you speak, voice barely above a whisper.

“Do I really deserve all of this?” Your eyes briefly glance up at the garden around you, before turning to meet his gaze. Hongjoong feels as if you are boring a hole right through his very soul at the intensity he can see shining behind them. “Do I really deserve all of you?”

There’s a hint of fear in your voice, a sort of sadness that he does not quite understand for the moment. That is, until the flash of your shared memory from the other week paints his mind.

He smiles sorrowfully, eyes drooping slightly as he feels that all too familiar painful tug on his heart.

“Of course you do, My Love.” He replies, voice a mere whisper on his lips. “Why would you ever think that you are unworthy of all of this? Of all of our love?”

“You’ve all done so much for me, and I’ve done nothing to earn it.” The admission has shame washing over you, your shoulders slumping as you curl forwards and in on yourself. “I’m still only human. I don’t understand what literal gods would want with me.”

“You exist.” Comes his blunt response, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. At the way Hongjoong can see your brow furrow in confusion, he lets out a small chuckle before continuing.

“My Love, you make us feel things that we have not felt in centuries. You make us feel alive.” He says, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Every day, we fall a little bit harder for you with each and every new discovery you present to us. At least, I know I do. There is nothing about you that does not sing to my very soul in some way. Your intelligence is unrivalled; your dignity, your charm, your kindness. The way you care for those which you hold dear and cherish most, portrays a thoughtfulness that we have always held in high regard for each other throughout our lives.” 

“You evoke emotions in us that we have not felt in millennia, nor experienced before in all of our long years of living.” He continues, staring deeply into your eyes as he notices tears begin to gather in your own. His heart pangs for a completely different reason now. “Your passions rival our own; your integrity, your determination, and your wit. We are more alike than you realize, which could not make you a better fit for us, nor make us desire you more than we already do. You are perfect in every way: mind, body, and soul.”

Hongjoong shifts the slightest bit closer to you as a soft smile graces his features. In the next moment, he gives your hand another gentle squeeze, reassuring you through both his actions, and his words how honest he is being with you right now. How sincere.

Though, it’s his next admission that truly knocks the wind right out of you.

“It is us that do not deserve you.”

“Hongjoong,” the whisper of his name on your lips is synonymous with the first tear that spills down the side of your cheek.

“You have showed us a kindness - a benevolence - that we did not deserve. You chose to trust us, despite everything we - despite everything I - have done. You have shared parts of yourself with us that we have only ever dreamed of being revealed to us, much sooner than we probably deserve.” He raises his free hand, turning even more into you so he can cup the side of your face tenderly in his palm. “There is no greater gift, no higher honour that you could give to us, than allowing us the opportunity to enter your heart in the same ways you have entered ours. Please, never forget that.”

Your eyelids flutter closed as you lean into his touch, feeling his thumb beginning to brush over the skin of your cheek as he caresses you tenderly. Another tear falls, and he’s quick to brush it away.

“Please, do not cry, My Love,” his voice is gentle as he holds you in his embrace like this. His heart squeezes painfully at knowing that you’ve been sitting here, alone, feeling like this for who knows how long, trapped in your own thoughts. “Do not ever doubt for one second that you do not deserve everything that we have to offer, and so much more. We would not hesitate to give you entire galaxies if that is what you so desire. You need simply only ask for something, and we will do everything in our power to grant your every wish. You are our entire world. Our light. Our life. We- I hope you never doubt that again.”

You take a deep, albeit shaky breath in as a moment of stillness passes between the both of you. Your eyes remain closed as you revel in his touch, your whole body feeling as if it’s humming with life as he holds your cheek in the palm of his hand. Then, slowly, you begin to nod softly.

“Thank you,” your voice is but a whisper as you breathe out, eyes blinking open to meet his own. “Thank you, Hongjoong, I really needed to hear that.”

“Of course, My Love,” he smiles tenderly at you, giving your cheek a final brush with his thumb before slowly pulling his hand away. “I am just glad I could offer you comfort during this time. I care about you more than you’ll ever know.”

Wiping at the rest of your lingering tears with the back of your free hand, you notice his one arm now stretched along the back of the bench. Shifting slightly, you lean into him, much to Hongjoong’s pleasant surprise. You give his hand still held in yours a small squeeze.

“Will you sit with me for a while longer?” An offer extended to him which makes his heart leap into his throat for all of the right reasons.

“I would love nothing more,” he replies, shifting slightly closer into you and noticing how your lips quirk the slightest bit upwards as he does so.

Oh, so badly does Hongjoong want to roar in happiness. How long has he dreamt of moments like this, shared with you while you rest in each other’s embrace? Finally, it seems as if his dreams are all coming true.

A few minutes of silence wash over the both of you, but this time, they are not filled with the same heaviness as before. The only sound that fills the space is the trickling of water from the fountain. A soft breeze brushes past.

Hongjoong smiles, fully relaxing into this moment with you. He absolutely adores how you have yet to release his hand, nor move away from his touch yet. If he’s being honest with himself, he could spend hours sitting like this with you. That is, if you let him. The cherry on top is the smile he notices that begins to paint your features as he makes another slight breeze drift by, the scent from the flowers filling your lungs with every breath you take.

Still, he cannot help the way worry tugs at the back of his mind at the mood he walked in on you in.

“My Love?” His voice pulls you back to reality as you hum in acknowledgement. “I do not wish to pry, and you do not have to answer me if you aren’t ready. However, I am simply wondering why you felt unworthy of all of this just now.”

You purse your lips slightly in thought, contemplating how best to respond. Taking a calming breath in, you begin to speak.

“I have gone through my whole life with people always expecting something from me. Whether it was in return for something they did, performance wise, or other, people were never just content with the parts I was willing to give. They always had to take something in return. It’s so engrained in me to always give more than I want to, or have to now, and to not receive anything back, that it just feels weird when someone else does things for me without expectations.” You explain, your eyes falling to your lap once more. “So, when that does happen, I feel like I’m cheating others. It’s the whole, ‘I’ve done nothing to deserve what I’m being given, so why are they giving it to me?’ mentality.”

“I’m scared, Hongjoong." You admit, sparing a glance up into his eyes and noticing how his breath catches in his throat when you do so. “You have all done so much for me, and I just feel like I haven’t done anything in return. What if I’m not who you think I am? What if, when I finally give myself to all of you, I am no longer what you want? What will happen when you all grow tired of me, and I’m of no more importance to you that a spec of dirt? Will you no longer want me when I do give you what you finally want?”

You take another shaky breath in, clinging onto his hand for dear life as a fear unlike anything he’s seen from you before swirls within your eyes.

“I’m scared, Hongjoong,” you repeat, voice much more hushed than it was a moment ago, as if confessing to your own thoughts is the biggest crime you could ever commit. “I’m scared because I-“ you swallow, “I really like living with you guys. It’s like I said before, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my entire life, and that’s all because of you. I love how none of you expect more from me than what I’m willing to give, and you have never expected more of me than that. I appreciate every minuscule detail you each put into our home, and that you literally went above and beyond anything I could have ever imagined.”

“I care about you all in my own ways, and I just-“ you let out a sigh, staring at your intertwined hands as you brush your own thumb over the skin on the back of his own. “I don’t ever want to lose this. I don’t ever want to lose you.”

Hongjoong has to swallow the sudden dryness in his throat, tears now springing to his own eyes as a warmth unlike any other spreads through his chest at your final confession. Though, he still worries about your own fears. Fears of which are untrue, and have no reason to be consuming your every thought. Only, before any words of reassurance can escape him, you are continuing.

“I know,” you chuckle dryly, “it’s incredibly selfish of me, isn’t it? To not want to give up anything. I just-“ you sigh once more, “I can’t help it. For the first time in my life, I  finally know what it feels like to be someone’s first choice. For the first time in my life, I know what it feels like to have someone be in love with me, and actually mean it. Which is why your words earlier are everything to me. You all make me feel so incredibly special, that I never want it to stop.”

“And it never will,” he assures you, meeting your gaze once more as he stares deeply into your eyes. “My Love, we will never not want you. You are so ingrained in our very souls, that to leave you would be like leaving a part of ourselves behind. We- I am so deeply in love with you, that I would never stop trying to make you fall for me in the same ways that I’ve fallen for you. Were you no longer in my life, I do not know if I would be able to go on. I do not know if any of us would. You are everything to us - to me, that we- I will never stop wanting to give you everything that you’ve always deserved, and so much more.”

You smile faintly, bringing your free hand up to caress the side of his face with your palm, noticing how he leans into your touch almost immediately. His eyelids flutter closed as he once again revels in this very moment here with you.

“Hongjoong,” his name is but a whisper on your lips, and you can just tell that he can hear how your heart thunders away in your chest. “I believe you.”

He mirrors your smile, eyes remaining shut as he rests in the palm of your hand.

“Good,” he squeezes your hand still held tightly in his own. “I’m glad.”

“Your words have reassured me more than you know,” you breathe. “I really didn’t know how badly I needed to hear them until now. Though, your actions tend to speak for themselves.”

You finish with a small chuckle, and when Hongjoong opens his eyes, he notices your gaze trailing around the garden once more.

“It’s like I’ve said, My Love,” he turns his head to place a soft kiss onto the palm of your hand, his lips tickling your skin as he speaks into you, eyes still locked onto your own, “you deserve everything that we have to offer, and so much more.”

Your lips part as if you want to say something more, but you stop yourself, brow furrowing slightly in worry. As if what you have to say is a worse admission than everything that has come before. 

Hongjoong blinks, eyes searching your face incase anything about your expression gives way to what you’re thinking right now. At the way his breath hitches slightly, he thinks he’s beginning to understand.

“My Love, you are enough.” At the way he feels your whole body still before him, he knows his words have struck true. “You are always more than enough for us. All we have ever wanted, all we have ever desired, is you. Your happiness, your affection, your love. That is all we ask: simply be you.”

“But I haven’t-“

“You don’t need to do anything to deserve our love and affection,” Hongjoong cuts you off, noticing much to his discontent how your hand falls from his face and back to your lap for the moment. “We are in love with you, not anything you could possibly provide for us. Actions and words are simply extensions of who we are; you do not need to provide more than you’re willing to give. Just let us take care of you.”

“I-“ you blink, taking a deep breath in to steady your nerves. Your head begins to throb. “There are parts of me that none of you know about yet, and I just cannot help but fear that once you do know, you will never look at me the same way again.”

“We are more alike than you think,” Hongjoong observes, shifting his attention back to the fountain in front of you. “Not a day goes by where I do not think of everything that I’ve done that could scare you away again in the blink of an eye, if you knew of the various sins that I have committed.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound like I’m invalidating your own feelings.” You mutter, voice barely above a whisper as you look down at your lap yet again.

“Do not worry, My Love, I never thought that for one second.” He gives your hand still held in his another reassuring squeeze. “What I’m trying to say is this: it’s normal to have these sorts of fears. Yet, that’s love, is it not? Revealing yourself fully; stripping yourself bare to the one that holds your heart in the palm of their hands and giving them the power to either cradle it gently, or tear it apart in the blink of an eye.”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” you chuckle slightly, lips quirking in the corner. “Though, I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a love like this before.”

“Can I let you in on a little secret?” He leans in slightly, head gently resting against your own as he draws you in closer.

You hum, shifting your gaze slightly to spare him a glance out of the corner of your eyes.

“Neither have I,” his confession is a mere whisper against the skin of your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine. “In all of my long years of life, I have never referred to anyone as I do you.”

“You mean you’ve never…?” You trail off, and Hongjoong gladly fills in the rest for you.

“Called anyone ‘My Love’ before?” He chuckles at the way you pull away slightly to gaze at him with wide eyes. “No, I have not.”

You blink, that familiar tug of curiosity shining within your eyes. “Why?”

“Because I have never found anyone worthy enough to call them as such.” He replies, a subtle smile tugging at his lips. “I have never felt so strongly about anyone as I do you. All the other times I have experienced love in my life feel like child’s play compared to this. You have shown me what being in love truly feels like, and means. I have finally found a piece of me that I did not realize I had been longing for all these long years.”

“Hongjoong,” your heart positively flutters at his confession, fingers tightening around his own as your opposite hand comes to rest on top of your intertwined ones.

“Do you think we’d call just anyone Our Queen?” He chuckles, nudging your knee with his own affectionately.

“No,” you smile softly, “I suppose not.”

“So, please, My Love, do not let these thoughts consume you any longer.” He meets your gaze once more. “Whenever you need me, whenever you need us, we will be right there to help calm you down, and assure you that they have no truth to them. Ever. You are everything to us. You, and you alone.”

For a moment, a silence settles around the both of you as you let his words sink in. The corners of your lips tug upwards faintly as you reach out to him once more, the palm of your hand caressing the side of his face. In the next moment, you’re leaning in, placing a tender kiss onto the skin of his opposite cheek.

“Thank you, Hongjoong,” you pull away, noticing how the tips of his ears begin to turn bright red as you lean into him, resting your head upon his shoulder. “You have eased the worry in both my heart, and my mind, more than you will ever know. I appreciate everything that you do for me, and have done for me. I appreciate you.”

“I will always be here for you, My Love,” his chest rumbles in content as he wraps his arm fully around your shoulders, pulling you closer into himself for the moment. “In anyway that I can.”

“Thank you, Hongjoong,” your heart warms as you allow your eyes to flutter closed, revelling in such a tender moment shared with him. “I don’t know why my thoughts got the better of me today.”

“We all have off days,” he comments with a hum, thumb back to brushing over the skin on the back of your hand.

You nod once more, continuing to rest your head against his shoulder for the time being. Again, Hongjoong creates a gentle breeze which flits through the garden, caressing both you and him as the scents of the flowers surround you both.

“Hongjoong?” Your voice pulls him back into this moment here in time.

“Yes, My Love?”

“May I ask you something?” You seem somewhat nervous despite the curiosity lingering in your tone.

“Of course, My Love,” comes his immediate response. “Ask me anything you desire, and I will answer to the best of my abilities.”

You smile faintly as you curl in closer to his side. A fact which warms his heart more than you’ll ever know.

“You do not have to answer if you don’t want to, but I was wondering,” you take a deep breath in, “can you tell me more about your relationship with Miyeon?”

Even though it’s slight, you can still feel the way his whole body tenses beneath you, clearly caught off guard by your question. That is, until he’s relaxing once more.

“What would you like to know?”

“You said you didn’t love her, yet you are one of the four counted in a relationship with her. Why?” You tilt your head slightly upwards to look at him, all the while continuing to rest against his shoulder.

“There are many different types of relationships other than just romantic, My Love,” he begins. “Sure, it may not have been your typical one, but we were still in agreement with one another. There’s just one thing I need you to understand: we both used each other for our own gains, and nothing more. She used me to get herself off, just as I-“ he sighs, voice lowering slightly in what you believe to be shame, “I used her. There was no love involved. At least, on my end.”

“She started to fall for you?” You ask, tone soft as you continue to gaze up at him.

“To this day I still do not know if she actually did, or if it was all apart of her game of trying to lure us all into her trap,” he sighs, leaning further back into the bench. “Though, I was never willing to give her more than I did. I didn’t want her love, and I felt as if she didn’t deserve mine. What she did to Yunho only confirmed it.”

“There’s a few pointed things I would like to do to her for what she did to him,” a frown pulls at your features as clear venom coats your words. “To what she did to all of you.”

“Oh?” Hongjoong quirks his brow, curiosity shining in his gaze as his heart begins to pound beneath his chest. “Care to share, My Love?”

Your eyes briefly meet his own before drifting to stare intently at the fountain in front of you. You shift slightly in your seat, crossing your one leg over the other as you pull his hand further into your lap.

“I think tearing out her heart after cracking open her ribs one by one for easier access is a good start,” you reply, seemingly nonchalantly with a shrug.

The growl that escapes him is nothing short of pleased as a shiver runs down his spine.

“My Love,” he practically moans out the name, “you can’t just say something like that and not realize the effect you’ll have on me.”

You shrug once more, “you asked.”

“See, yet another reason I fall deeper in love with you each day,” he chuckles, and at the way your brow quirks at him, he smirks, leaning in closer to you as his voice drops to a mere whisper, “you’re always full of pleasant surprises, My Love.”

You giggle, and Hongjoong swears that it’s the most melodic sound he’s ever heard in his life.

“More violent than you were expecting?” You joke, another giggle escaping your lips.

“Unbelievably so,” he sighs, dreamily.

“You’d be surprised by the types of thoughts I can have,” you reply. “Or perhaps you all just bring out the best in me.”

“Not the worst?” This time, it’s his turn to quirk a brow at your choice in words.

“I think after being so passive for so long in my life I can have a little violence,” you hum. “As a treat.”

Hongjoong laughs, squeezing your hand in his as he feels your shoulders shaking along with his.

“You can have as much violence as you desire, My Love,” he grins, his eyes tinting with that all too familiar darkness as a happiness unlike anything he’s ever felt before swirls within. “I look forward to discovering all of your more violent thoughts in that pretty little head of yours. Always.”

“Perhaps you won’t have to wait much longer to find out,” you smirk, a teasing lilt to your voice.

Another pleased growl escapes him, and you feel him pull you closer into him, causing you to sit upright once more as he turns his head to look at you.

“That’s a very dangerous admission, My Love,” his voice is low as his eyes flick down to your lips, tongue darting out to wet his own in the next second. “Are you sure you want to tempt me like this?”

You lean into him then, free hand coming up to cradle the back of his neck. Your fingers tangle in his locks as you do so, and you do not fail to notice the pleased rumble that echoes throughout his chest and reverberates through your own.

“What am I, if not tempting?” You grin, a seductive pull of your lips as your grip tightens in his hair.

“You are the greatest temptation I have ever known,” his admission is but a whisper against your own lips as he leans in that much closer to you, yet never so far as to make you uncomfortable.

“Then, how sweet it will be when I finally let you indulge,” the smirk that pulls onto your features is deadly, voice low as your own gaze darts down to his lips for the briefest of moments.

However, before Hongjoong can even so much as pose the question that he has always wanted to ask you, you’re pulling away. A knowing look graces your features in a smug pull of your lips upwards as you turn to face the fountain once more. Your hand releases its grip on his hair to reach across and pat at his knee.

“All in due time, Joong,” you hum. “All in due time.”

Despite the feeling swirling in his chest at not being able to kiss you quite yet, there is a glimmer of hope shining behind his eyes. Already, you have allowed him to hold you like this for much longer than he could have ever imagined, your hand still being firmly held in his own. Plus, your words serve as a promise to him of what is still yet to come. A fact of which could not make him any happier than he is in this moment here in time with you.

“May I be honest with you?” Your voice pulls him out of his own thoughts of leaning in to place a tender kiss onto your cheek.

“I would love nothing more, My Love,” comes his gentle reply.

“When you first told me about Miyeon, and how you never cared for her, I was worried,” you sigh, diverting your gaze to the ground as the words fall from your lips. “I feared that you were playing me for a fool, and only making me believe that you were in love with me for some ulterior motive.”

“My Love, I would never-“

“Please, Hongjoong,” you cut him off as you look back up to meet his gaze once more. Nothing but a soft fondness shines there, and it eases a tension from his shoulders that he hasn’t realized he’s been holding onto this entire time. “Let me finish.”

He nods his head, waiting patiently for you to continue.

“I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out what that might be. You had already assured me you weren’t after my soul, and you vowed that you would never force yourself on me.” You tilt your head slightly as if contemplating your previous thoughts once more now. “You have never done anything which would warrant my immediate discomfort, and you went out of your way to make me feel comfortable. Anything and everything I could ever want or need, you provided, even if I was being stubborn or I didn’t deserve it.”

You can see him about to protest yet again, but you shush him by placing a finger of your free hand against his lips.

“Your actions alone spoke for themselves,” you continue, and you watch him blink once at you. You lower your hand. “No one in their right mind would bother to put on such a dedicated act for so long. I can always feel the sincerity of your words every time you speak to me, and this past hour alone with you has just confirmed what I’ve already known. Please believe me when I say that I believe you. To me, you do not seem like the type to lead someone on, nor take more than what you yourself are willing to give. I think that’s one of the things I appreciate most about you. Your integrity has never made me doubt your intentions for one second.”

“My Love,” his eyes shine with that all too familiar fondness you are so used to seeing from him.

“I can tell just from the way you look at me that you have never been dishonest with your emotions,” once more, your hand comes up to cradle the side of his face, thumb gently stroking the skin right below his one eye. “You cannot fake that.”

“Never,” he breathes, gaze locked onto your own as his eyes search for any signs of hesitance or discomfort from you. He finds none. “Not to you. Never you.”

“You have spent every day since I got here proving your love for me, and I will never forget that,” you say, voice a mere whisper on the wind as you look at him with such tenderness in your eyes, that he cannot help the way his breath hitches in his throat. “I may not be able to say the words you long to hear from me quite yet, but I can tell you this,” Hongjoong holds his breath as you meet his gaze, “I am starting to fall for you, Hongjoong, and it most certainly is not a bad thing.”

It’s as if his entire world has stopped, a warmth flooding his veins as this moment here in time washes over the both of you. Your words have him recalling the very last thing you said to him when you both were previously in the garden together, and he cannot help the way tears begin to spring to his eyes once more. You have just made him so incredibly happy, that Hongjoong feels as if he could let out a roar that would shake the very foundations of the earth. This shared moment with you is so intimate to him, reassuring him in the best of ways, and giving him such hope, that he wants to revel in this feeling forever.

Hongjoong doesn’t even realized he’s moved to caress the back of your neck until his eyes are refocusing on the scene before him. The way he can see you staring at him, eyes full of affection as a soft smile paints your features, sets his heart racing inside his chest. That all too familiar warmth blossoms within him, spreading outwards until he can feel the tips of his very fingers tingling at your slightest touch.

His eyes glance down at your lips.

“My Love,” his voice is rough, raw from the pure emotions running through his very being as this moment washes over him and settles deep within the core of his soul. “Thank you-“ his breath hitches once more in his throat as he pulls your intertwined hands to his chest so you can feel how his heart is pounding inside his chest. For you, and you alone. “There are not enough words in all of the tongues of this universe to describe to you what this means to me, what you mean to me.”

“You don’t have to,” you squeeze his hand, the fingers you have cradling his cheek pressing against him the slightest bit more. “I understand, Hongjoong. You have made me believe.”

“My Love,” his words are strained, throat tightening as his emotions consume his very soul. He swallows, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he glances down at your own, heartbeat ringing in his ears. “Can I-“ he breathes, voice low as he leans in that much closer to you. “May I-“

Hongjoong struggles to get the words out, partially due to the emotions swirling inside of him this very instant, but also due to the fear of you possibly pulling away from him if he’s pushing things too fast. He doesn’t want to scare you away again.

“Do you want to kiss me, Captain?” There’s a hint of a teasing lilt to your voice as the corner of your lips quirk upwards.

“Yes, please,” he practically moans out, a shudder running throughout his entire body at the significance behind this moment. Not to mention your very words, of which have him tingling with a desperation for you unlike ever before. “More than anything.”

“Then, kiss me, My King,”

His lips are on yours before you even finish getting the words out, and you can feel the way his pleased growl reverberates against your skin as he pulls you in closer. His grip is desperate as his hand supports the back of your neck, cradling you to him gently as he holds you carefully in his grip. Everything that he is, everything that he feels, he pours into this kiss, loving the way he can hear your breath hitch as he deepens it.

His whole body begins to tingle. Hongjoong can feel the heat from your hand on his cheek, as well as the way your grip tightens around his own as he holds your intertwined hands against his chest. His heart is beating erratically as he feels your fingers move to tangle in his hair, pulling him even closer into you as you let out the sweetest of whimpers into his mouth. A sound which he greedily swallows, wanting to hear even more, and all just for him.

This is everything he could have ever wanted, and so much more as he feels his chest rumble with another pleased growl. He knows his eyes have long since bled black beneath his lids as he holds you to him, revelling in this moment for as long as he can. The way your lips feel pressed against his own, tongue languidly stroking against his, has a heat unlike anything he’s ever felt before flooding his entire being.

All too soon, you’re pulling away from him. Only, now, Hongjoong craves more. Taking this opportunity, he places a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth, moving to trail his lips down your jawline before beginning to nip at the skin of your neck. The way you seem to tilt your head back the slightest to give him easier access has another pleased rumble building in his chest.

More. More. Hongjoong wants more. He craves it. That all too familiar beast begins to snarl within him, begging him to claim you like he’s long since desired, to make you his in every possible way that he knows how. At the way you hum as he bites down on a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, he finds it even harder to control himself at this very moment in time.

The feeling of your fingers gently tugging at the hair on the back of his neck pulls his attention away from you just long enough for you to part his lips from your skin. A giggle escapes you as he meets your gaze, eyes swirling with that all too familiar darkness you’ve become so used to from him as a soft pout tugs at his lips.

“How about we save that for later, yeah?” You chuckle, a grin painting your features as you watch his eyes shine.

“As you wish, My Queen,” he hums, words but a growl on his lips.

Slowly, your hand moves back to cradling his face in your palm, thumb gently stroking along his cheek as he leans into your touch once more. Hongjoong’s own hand releases his hold on the back of your neck in order to rest along the top of the bench once more, fingers dancing lightly along the skin of your shoulders. His eyelids flutter closed.

“I love you,” he breathes, turning his head once more to place a kiss onto the skin of your open palm.

You smile as his eyes flutter open to meet your own, “I believe you.”

Another comfortable silence settles around the both of you as you bask in each other’s presence. You shift yourself so that you’re leaning against his side yet again, his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders as you rest your head on his. Nothing could make you both happier than you are right now.

For an hour, the two of you sit like this, chatting idly while keeping your voices low. Neither of you want to disturb the moment you have created here together, perfectly content to stay wrapped up in each other’s embrace like this for as long as the other will allow.

You don’t quite remember when he started, but Hongjoong has begun to play with your fingers, threading them through his own and tracing patterns into the skin on the back of your hand. It’s quite calming, and you can feel tingles shooting up your arms wherever he touches. A pleasant, albeit new sensation to you. One which you could very much get used to without a second thought.

“We have another council meeting coming up in a few days,” he says after a brief moment of silence. “Are you going to be okay on your own again, given everything going on?”

“More than okay,” you smile, turning your head to place a gentle kiss onto his jawline. “Thank you for asking.”

“Nothing can get passed our wards, regardless,” he assures you.

“I believe you,” you chuckle, settling deeper into his side. “Though, I’m curious what this one will be about.”

“Probably more complaints about issues that could solve themselves,” he mirrors your chuckle, an overdramatic sigh escaping him in the next moment. “You’d be surprised at how many of our subjects cannot make their own decisions.”

“Sounds like every other person I know,” you join in on the teasing. “Though I can’t imagine the shit you all have to deal with.”

“It does get repetitive at times,” he admits. “Though, I think the worst is when certain demons ask if they can plant crops on their own lands.”

You blank as you look up at him. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish I were,” he sighs, an exasperated chuckle escaping him in the next second. “Though, with how the last meeting went, I’m sure the clans have found the rest of the traitors, and just want us to condemn them.”

“Traitors?” You quirk a brow.

“The reason there was blood on the floor that one morning after we returned,” he replies, and he notices the way you nod slightly in response.

“Wait, you mean you guys didn’t kill them all?” Your brow furrows as you push yourself the slightest bit away to look up at him.

“We could have,” he shrugs, “but then we wouldn’t have any left to condemn and make an example out of when the time is right.”

“Fair enough,” you hum, resting your head back onto his shoulder. “As long as you’ve destroyed their leader, and haven’t made them into a martyr, the cause should be lost.”

He’s silent for a moment, and you can just tell he’s contemplating your words.

“You have destroyed their leader, haven’t you?” Your eyebrows raise considerably as you wait for his response.

“If I’m honest, My Love, we never even bothered to learn who it was,” he replies. “We wouldn’t be able to tell you if we killed them or not when we slaughtered the majority of them that one night.”

“Okay, well,” you tighten your grip on him slightly, “just be careful. I don’t want to see any of you get hurt. Especially not when we have Miyeon to deal with.” Then, as if realizing something, a worry takes over your features. “She won’t be there, will she?”

“No, no, of course not.” He’s quick to assure you. “Her clan knows what will happen to her and them if she so much as dares to show her face to us at a council again.”

“Ah,” relief washes over you, even if he can still sense that wisp of fear lingering in your grip, “I see.”

“Your concern for us all means more than you’ll ever know, My Love,” he hums, eyes shining affectionately as he looks over at you still resting against his shoulder.

“I care about you guys,” you repeat your words from earlier in the day, noticing how his throat bobs as he swallows his emotions for the time being. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I promise that we will all return to you safe and sound,” Hongjoong smiles softly, bringing your intertwined hands up to his lips to place a gentle kiss onto the back of yours.

“You better,” you grin teasingly. “Otherwise, I’ll gut you myself.”

A pleasant shiver races down his spine as his eyes shine. “Is that a promise, My Love?”

“Violent thoughts, remember?” You flick a brow at him, amusement shining in your eyes as you see him mirror your grin.

“But of course,” he leans in to rest his forehead against your own. “How could I ever forget such delightful fantasies of yours?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” the smirk that tugs at the corner of your lips is deadly, and Hongjoong can feel another shiver of pleasure racing down his spine.

“I look forward to the day you allow me to indulge in them with you,” his words are but a gentle caress against your skin, despite the darker undertones of such a lingering promise.

“All in due time, Joong,” you breathe. “All in due time.”

Another hour is spent together conversing softly between each other in the garden, and simply basking in one another’s presence. As soon as the sun begins to set, a calm washes over the both of you, though Hongjoong is a bit disappointed your time together has to end. Still, the fact that you allow him to walk you to your room, hand still held firmly in his own has a feeling unlike any other spreading throughout his entire body.

You do not invite him to stay with you, but you do place another lingering kiss to his cheek as you bid him a goodnight. You do seem slightly more tired than usual, so he doesn’t want to push you any further than you’ve already gone today. You’ve opened yourself up to him in ways he’s only ever dreamed about, and for that, he could not be more grateful, or fall any more in love with you than he already is.

Placing a gentle kiss onto the skin of your knuckles, Hongjoong slowly and reluctantly lets go of your hand. He watches as you retreat into your bedroom for the evening, sending him a final soft smile as you shut the door behind you.

Soon. He tells himself as he begins to make his way back down the hallway and to his own room for the evening. You’ll be falling asleep in his own arms soon.

Hongjoong simply cannot wait for that day to come, and he knows that once it does, it will be all the more sweeter. Today already went better than he could have ever hoped, and the fact that he was able to ease your worries like he did makes him so unbelievably happy. You admitted to him yourself that you’re already starting to fall for him. Now, all there’s left to do is wait, and Hongjoong is more than happy to do so. After all, once you fall, he will be there to catch you with open arms, that all too familiar loving smile on his face when you do.

The skin of his lips begins to tingle as he recalls the feeling of your own pressed against his.

Soon. You will be his soon. He’ll make sure of it, even it it’s the last thing he ever does.

[throwaway-yandere]

𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃:

"–ℌ𝔢 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔣𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔰 𝔱𝔬𝔬 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰𝔱 𝔡𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔞 𝔡𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫 𝔥𝔦𝔪𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣; 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔤𝔞𝔷𝔢 𝔱𝔬𝔬 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔟𝔶𝔰𝔰, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔟𝔶𝔰𝔰 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔤𝔞𝔷𝔢 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲. 𝔅𝔲𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩, 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔪𝔶 𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔡 𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔬𝔟𝔬𝔯𝔬𝔰?"

GENSHIN IMPACT

MONDSTADT:

Albedo:

"No." (Professor!Albedo/Student!Reader)

Diluc Ragnvindr:

Dinner With Steaks and Flowers

His Closest Childhood Friend (Soldier, Poet, King)

"O Capo! My Capo!" (debut: chapter 2)

Not Through The Grapevine (yandere!idol event)

I Got Reincarnated As A Server NPC In An Otome Game But A Capture Target Won’t Leave Me Alone 

Kaeya Alberich:

ESTHER (yandere!idol event)

Maid!Merman!Kaeya drabble

"Venti":

Hysteric Humanoid (SAGAU)

LIYUE:

"Zhongli":

Waking Up A Lying Dragon (Bakunawa!Reader)

"If the pedestal is beautiful, then the statue must be even more beautiful."

Xiao:

Wound Dressings (yan!idol event)

Yanfei

Quick yan!fei (lol) brainrot

INAZUMA:

Arataki "Numero Uno" Itto:

Hana Yori Dango (non!yandere itto)

Of Dream A-Dreaming (yandere!idol event)

Kaedehara Kazuha

Flawless

Kamisato Ayato:

Blind Obedience (P2: A Myriad of Fallen Leaves)

Careful, He Bites (P2: Hana Yori Dango) 

Ghost in the Kamisato Estate (minific series)

EDMR (yandere!idol event)

ERROR 401: GONE (Faceless!Ayato)

Faceless Ayato thoughts 1,

The Owner Who Broke The Leash (Chainsaw Man au with Ayato as Makima)

Raiden Ei:

Sunshowers

Thoma:

His Adorable Pen Pal (Soldier, Poet, King)

Shikanoin Heizou

Posteriori (yandere!idol event)

SUMERU:

Alhaitham:

Vision Qualifications

Worksheets 

"O Capo! My Capo!" (Mafia au series)

Alhaitham's Type (yandere!idol event)

Alhaitham selling his soul to a devil!reader brainrot

Dendro NA: 101 (Can be read as VQ’s p2)

Flawless

Cyno:

"O Capo! My Capo!" (Mafia au series)

Alone Together (yandere!idol event)

Dottore:

Click & Drag drabble (feat Cyno)

Classical Conditioning

"Aren't You Supposed To Hate Me?" (yandere!idol event)

Tighnari:

Creative Differences (check "#tag: cd - tighnari" for additional headcanons)

"O Capo! My Capo!!" (Mafia au series)

The Boar Prince/ss (non-yandere secret santa event)

Kaveh:

Paint (non!yandere kaveh, just fluff)

Canvas (drabble)

Flawless

His Version of You

Short boyfriend!kaveh drabble on OCMC/Mafia setting

Wanderer:

Apotheosis Upon Your First Feast

Scarborough Fair/Canticle (Prince au)

Flawless

Drabble: Prince Scara x Farmer

FOUNTAINE:

Neuvillette:

Death Has No Dignity

Wriothesley:

And The Sun Is Silent

SNEZHNAYA/FATUI:

Childe/Tartaglia/Ajax:

His Ice Fishing Buddy (Soldier, Poet, King)

Comfort (drabble)

Pantalone:

Apotheosis Upon Your First Feast

OUTLANDERS/KHAENRIAH'NS:

Aether:

Hysteric Humanoid (SAGAU)

Dainsleif, my beloved:

Hysteric Humanoid

Ouroboros, The 8th Capo (OC!MC!)

Estella's Modern!Dain x Reader but I made it yandere lmao (dw it's my irl bestie)

"If You Truly Loved Me, You Should Be Dead" (hitman!dain, my husband.)

Dolce Stil Nuovo

Lumine:

Hysteric Humanoid

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒

SOLDIER, POET, KING

"What if Varka's cousin found 3 different secret admirers?"

"Someone like that getting admirers? As if."

Parts:

His Ice Fishing Buddy, His Adorable Pen Pal, His Closest Childhood Friend

HYSTERIC HUMANOID

"Even today, don't give up on a human heart; claim it even if it hurts." - ALKALOID

A SAGAU fic where The Creator had turned into an amnesiac who believed they're a mere impostor with a knack for gravity manipulation and not much else. And it appears that both Lumine and Dainsleif would stop at nothing to get you on their side.

Chapters, Side Stories & Their Main Focus Characters:

♦ Prologue: The Longest Devout Believers - Dainsleif, Lumine, Venti, and Kaeya

♦ Chapter 1: 500 Year Long Identity Crisis - Baizhu, Dainsleif, Lumine

♦ Drabble 1: How would they celebrate your birthday/The Creator's anniversary? - Dainsleif, Lumine, Baizhu, Venti, Kaeya, Zhongli, Ayaka

♦ Chapter 2: A Contract Long Overdue (WIP) - Zhongli, Dainsleif, Kaeya

"O CAPO! MY CAPO!"

Set in visionless 1920s Teyvat, three inconspicuous yet significant men began to spy on the Fatui's 8th Capo: (Y/n) (L/n). The story begins when the Innamorati Familia's headquarters burns down and in a twist of fate, to say that you've been dealt with an awful hand would be the understatement of the decade. Can you survive– most importantly– can you make the right choices? ((Welcome to the interactive mafia au fic! Have fun voting on the polls!!!))

Otome Game Main Love Interests:

Inquisitor Cyno, Informant Tighnari, Underboss Alhaitham, (CURRENTLY LOCKED: Church Architect Kaveh)

Secret Routes:

Visconti Diluc, "Venti" (LOCKED), ??? (LOCKED), ???, ???, ???

Chapters:

1: "O Capo! My Capo!"

2: The Capo's Soliloquy 

Bad End 1: "You're Collei's Friend, After All!"

3: The Fox Hunt (Tuqburni)

BRAND NEW ARCHON (Chapter 1-3 animatic)

Short bf!Kaveh drabble (not "canon)

"My Beloved Producer..." (GENSHIN IDOL AU)

Masterlist

NOTE: CHECK YOUR COMMUNITY LABEL SETTINGS AND TURN OFF FILTERS IF THE MASTERLIST LINK WON'T WORK. Tumblr must've thought I wrote something explicit (in a masterlist???) and tagged it as mature :///

Flawless

Aka: my last fanfic featuring Scaramouche, Alhaitham, Kaveh, and Kazuha. A fanfic-game with 4 branching endings.

Premise: You're stuck in a killing game inside your dream school. It started with 16 students– and now you're left with only 6 of them. Senior Faruzan was murdered. Who is the culprit among these 5 people?

Link

FIRE EMBLEM: THREE HOUSES

BLUE LIONS:

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd: (my fave fictional man of all time)

Saudade

ps: he's your underboss in "O Capo! My Capo!" lol

BLACK EAGLES:

(coming soon...)

GOLDEN DEER:

(coming soon...)

GARREG MACH MONASTERY:

(coming soon...)

HONKAI: STAR RAIL

ASTRAL EXPRESS:

(coming soon...)

JARILO VI:

Gepard Landau

What Happened At 10:10 (has 2 endings. Won't link it, reach the end of the story in your own way.)

XIANZHOU LUOFU:

Jing Yuan

Misaligned Strings (non-yandere, pure fluff & angst)

IPC

Dr. Veritas Ratio

His Version of You

PENACONY

Sunday

Cannibal!Sunday HCs

"ℑ'𝔡 𝔤𝔩𝔞𝔡𝔩𝔶 𝔣𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔢𝔫𝔡 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡."

"𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔪𝔶 𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔡, 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔬 𝔢𝔫𝔡. 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔯𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔦𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔩."