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gyaruhana · 1 month ago

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pls write for thanos with hatefucking… like that man has that potential after seeing how he talks to the other contestants

Thanos/Choi Su-Bong - Hatefucking

Synopsis: You and Thanos hate each other and, no matter how many death threats he sends your way, you never listen. So he decides that, if threats don't work, maybe you need to be fucked instead.

A/N: wrote this in like two hours max so it may not be the best but I tried anyway !! I love Thanos so much and hatefuck with him has me thirstyy

Warnings: smut, penetrative sex, blowjob, degradation, thanos is a little meanie and you're sassy

If there was one thing that could be said for sure about Thanos, it's that he was a total fucking dickhead.

From the very first game you played in this hellhole, he had been nothing but a problem. He skipped around like he owned the place and had no problem with sacrificing a few people. Not to mention, he was loud. So annoyingly loud.

Unfortunately for you, he seemed to really hate you too. Maybe it was the fact you kept glaring at him like he did something or the way you'd make some sort of sarcastic comment every time he spoke. Whatever the reason, the feeling was mutual. He hated you. You hated him. That was the end of it.

Well, it should've been.

As if some divine being took joy in your pain, Thanos walked up to you while you were alone with an angry look - clearly having something to say to you. You could guess he was going to try to threaten you into choosing to continue the games next vote since you had chosen not to.

“Yo. It'd be in your best interest to choose the blue button. It's really pissing me off when you keep pressing that red x button every time,” he spoke as he looked down at you from where you sat.

“Or what?” You say as you stand up and look at him with disdain. You weren't about to let this idiot try to scare you into doing what he wants. You weren't his slave. “Or I'll fucking kill you,” he says as he steps closer with a look that seemed like he meant it. Honestly, you didn't doubt that he was telling the truth. He's been killing people since the first game and it certainly won't be any different for you.

“Ooh, scary,” you say sarcastically before pushing past him. You didn't get far before he grabbed your wrist and turned you around, pulling you close to him. “You don't think I'll do it? Cause you'd be wrong,” he says as he looks at you dead in the eyes. You harshly pulled your wrist away from his grip and gave him a scoff.

“You're too much of a pussy to do shit. The only thing that gives you confidence are those dumb little pills you take,” you say as you look at him, challenging him to say something else.

It was quiet as you two just stared at each other, both silently praying for the other's death. He lets out an annoyed huff before finally breaking eye contact to look to the side. Without another word, he pushes past you and walks back to the other side of the room where the rest of the people who wanted to continue playing the game were. If that idiot really thought he could sway you, he'd soon learn you aren't swayed by death threats from high dumbasses.

When it came time to vote, you could feel Thanos staring you down. You turned your head to look back at him with an eyebrow raised and he turned his head away. You could see the annoyance all over his face.

One by one, each player went up and placed their vote. The numbers were quite even and it was hard to tell who'd end up victorious in this vote. When it was Thanos's turn to vote, he made a point of stopping right behind you before he walked down.

“Remember what I said earlier. I'll kill you,” he whispers before walking past and skipping down towards the buttons. He kissed the blue button before walking over to the corresponding side but he was looking straight at you.

You ignored his hard glare and walked down to the buttons. You raised your hand and, no surprise, pressed the red button. You turned to him and flipped him off with a small smirk before walking off to the other side.

For a moment, you actually thought you'd get away with that because it seemed that more people wanted to leave now. However, that was not the case as the result ended up being a tie.

Great. You were stuck here for longer. You definitely wouldn't be able to avoid Thanos if you were stuck here till tomorrow. He didn't seem to walk up to you immediately. It was like he was waiting for the right time to strike. All he did was stare at you from across the room as if he was formulating the most brutal way to tear you limb by limb. And, wow, he stared at you for a very long time.

It wasn't until there were 5 minutes before lights out did he come to you. You were all by yourself in a corner and no one seemed to be paying much attention. They were all so busy in their own whispered conversations.

“Hey, it seems you didn't understand me the first time,” he says as he grabs you by your shirt and pushes you against the wall behind you. “I said I'd kill you if you pressed the red button,” he continues as he looks at you with annoyance.

“Go ahead then. Kill me,” you say as you look at him with a small smirk. He might have already killed a few people but you didn't believe he'd have the guts to kill people outside of the games.

He was quiet. All he did was stare. It was as if he was calculating some thoughts. He looked toward the timer on the wall before looking back at you.

“You're fucking unbearable,” he speaks before he's suddenly slamming his lips against yours. You didn't expect this move. You expected him to stab you or choke you - not kiss you.

You push him away with a glare. You couldn't be kissing this idiot. You hated him and he was fucking stupid. But even with that hate, there was something about the way he kissed you that had you thinking twice.

Fuck, you were doing this.

You pulled him in by his collar and pressed your lips against his. There was nothing romantic about this kiss. It was pure hate. Just angry, rough kissing as if it would solve anything. His hands were all over your body before they finally decided to settle on your hips with a tight grip. He pulled away before starting to leave kisses along your neck. He wasn't gentle at all. He was biting you as if he wanted to draw blood.

“You're such a fucking bitch. Always acting so smug. I'm gonna shut you the fuck up,” he says as his hand goes to your hair before yanking it back roughly to give him better access to your neck.

“You're the fucking bitch. Always walking around like you own the place,” you say back and in response he bites your neck hard making you wince slightly at the pain. “watch your fucking mouth,” he spoke as he pulled away and wrapped a hand around your throat. As if on cue, the lights suddenly turned off leaving you two in the dark.

He let out a small laugh as it went dark before he removed the hand on your hip and instead started pulling your pants down.

“I'm gonna fuck you till you learn you're not in control, I am,” he says before pulling his own pants down. He wasn't going to play nice or take it easy. Not when you hadn't played nice with him.

“You think you can fuck me into submission? You're way too fucking cocky,” you say with a quiet laugh, finding it amusing how he thought you'd fold once he started fucking you. “We’ll see,” he says, his grip around your throat tightening to shut you up. He pulled his boxers down slightly, enough to let his dick out, before he pushed your panties to the side.

“I'm gonna show you not to fuck with me again,” he whispers into your ear as he lines himself up with your entrance. Without another word, he starts slowly thrusting himself in till he's all the way inside you.

“You're such a fucking whore,” he says as he starts to pull out before thrusting in again with one stroke. He kept a pace of being fast and hard as if trying to make you feel his hate on a spiritual level.

Well, God you could definitely feel it. He kept leaving aggressive bites all over your neck as he thrust into you. His hand around your neck kept its firm grip, enjoying the way you struggled to breathe.

He wasn't fucking you for pleasure, he was fucking you to make you learn a lesson. He wanted to make you cum. He wanted to choke you till your vision got blurry. He wanted it to be clear he hated you with every fiber of his being.

His free hand went down to your clit and he pinched it before rubbing it with a circular motion. He wasn't gentle so it brought a mix of both pain and pleasure. A feeling that brought you closer to the edge of a sweet, sweet release. He could feel you tighten around his cock and it made him let out a groan which turned into a small mocking laugh.

“Fuck, are you- going to cum? Already?” He says mockingly with a smirk. He took pleasure in knowing he could control you like this. Control someone who seemed to hate him. “C'mon, cum on my cock then, whore,” he said before pressing his lips to yours roughly. He forced his tongue into your mouth and he was clearly eager to get you to cum.

With a slight angle of his hips, he thrusted into just the right spot that had you tipping far over the edge. He let out a groan at the feeling of you coming undone on his cock before he quickly pulled out.

He released your throat and grabbed your hair instead before forcing you onto your knees. You looked up at him with a glare and he returned it with the corner of his mouth just barely quirked up. “suck my cock so I can come,” he said as he brought his cock closer to your mouth. He really didn't hesitate when you opened your mouth and immediately forced himself in with a groan at the feeling.

“God.. do you taste yourself on my dick?” He says as he looks down at you. He thrusts into your mouth making you gag and he just laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. “You're such a fucking bitch when you talk shit. I like you better like this,” he speaks as he mercilessly thrusts into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat over and over again.

“I'm gonna cum in your mouth and you're gonna swallow, yeah?” He says before throwing his head back with a groan. It didn't take long before you felt his cum run down your throat. He thrusted a little more as he came down from his high before finally pulling out of your mouth. There was drool running down your chin as he pulled his boxers and pants up before kneeling in front of you.

“Swallow my cum,” he orders as he tilts his head at you and waits. You look up at him before turning your head and spitting onto the floor instead.

“I think I'll pass,” you say as you look up at him once again with a glare. Tension rose between you two again but this time, it was different. Sure, it was hate, but there was undeniably a different punishment waiting instead of an argument.

“Then I guess you haven't learnt your lesson,”

#squid game #squid game x reader #squid game 2 #squid game season 2 #choi su bong #choi su bong smut #thanos squid game #x reader smut

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pathologicalreid · 4 months ago

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litmus test | s.r.

in which Spencer needs your expertise to help solve a murder, but crime fighting is most decidedly not for you

find more chemist!reader here!

who? spencer reid x chemist!reader category: flangst (like. the end is a little angsty and it has case details) content warnings: typical cm violence, science talk, fem!reader, reader is not built for crime, morgan being an older brother, some fun banter!! death by firework is crazy lmao word count: 1.68k a/n: this is one of my favorite fluff pieces i've written in agessss i missed chemist!reader so much i learn so many things when i'm writing her. this was a request! i hope you like it as much as i do!!

“Do you have a second?” Spencer asks, his voice slightly choppy over the phone. Between his ancient phone and being inside concrete police precincts, some disconnect was bound to happen.

Saving your document to your computer, you rest the lab phone between your shoulder and ear, “If you’re asking me if I have any corrosive chemicals in my hands, the answer is no.”

He chuckles lightly, “I never know with you.”

You roll your eyes in response, even if he can’t see you, “It was one time and I needed a new phone case anyway.”

“You fused the plastic of your phone case to the material of your phone,” he retorts far too quickly for your liking.

“Yes,” you acquiesce, “but I know the exact chemical reaction that caused that phenomenon.” You cross your legs one over the other, maintaining your balance on your lab stool as you speak to Spencer over the phone.

He gave a light hum in response, “Speaking of chemical reactions – I need your help.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “You’re asking me for help in chemistry?” There really was a first time for everything, you suppose.

Spencer was more than capable of navigating a lab on his own, even so, he admits, “You have more applied practice than I do.”

Pursing your lips, you nod to yourself, “Fair enough. What’s stumping you, Dr. Reid?” Your inquiry, while innocent enough, garners a wolf whistle from your graduate assistant.

“There’s something burning a hole in these bones, and I’m not sure what would be causing it to happen this fast,” he explains, giving you minor background information on how long the bones were out and if the medical examiner had treated them with something.

You clear your throat, frowning at the notes you had scrawled down in front of you, “Burning or corroding?” What was seemingly a meaningless distinction would actually allow you to filter through approximately half of the possibilities.

“Corroding,” he corrects himself, “My mistake.”

Crossing off some of your notes, you purse your lips at the new possibilities, “No worries. Did you try flushing it out with water?”

You hear papers flipping on his end of the call before you get a response, “That would destroy evidence.”

“Well,” you raise your eyebrows, “It sounds like your evidence is destroying itself.”

“Baby,” Spencer says in a no-nonsense tone reserved for when he was deep in a case. You could’ve sworn you heard Morgan in the background of the call mocking him for the pet name.

Turning back to your notes, you sigh, “Yeah, yeah, all work and no play. Was the body buried?”

“Partially,” his reply intrigues you, “I can have Garcia send you the crime scene photos if you think it’ll help.”

Wrinkling your nose at the thought, you made an unsure sound, “Right, because nothing says lunchtime like getting up close and personal with a homicide victim.”

“What lunchtime? It’s three pm in D.C. right now,” he caught you, a slight chiding tone in his words.

Ignoring his questions, you ask more of your own, “Was the body near water? Did they test the pH of the soil and water?”

There were more papers flipping, likely someone presenting the results of those tests to him, “Yeah, the soil was a five-point two and the water was a seven-point eight,” he listed off for you.

While your knowledge of the pH of the soil in Iowa was limited, you did know that those levels were pretty on par for the northern Mississippi River. “O-kay,” you say, extending your vowels, “and they didn’t find anything else on the scene that points to corrosive materials. Hydrofluoric acid?” You posit, “No, you know what – maybe you should send me those files. My work email is encrypted, you can give it to Penelope.”

He speaks to someone else in the room with him and you resist the urge to ask him if he’s enjoying Iowa, “It’s sent,” he confirms with you.

Pulling up your email only takes a moment, and once you get over the initial shock of seeing a dead body on your computer screen, you lift your lab glasses to the top of your head in order to get a better look. “I mean,” you think for a moment, “those look like alkali burns to me. I’ve never seen them on bones before, but you should do a litmus test to check either way.”

“So, we rinse it with water?” He asks, seeking instruction from you in a way that makes you feel oddly powerful.

Your eyes widen, “No, no, no. If it’s a metal compound then it’ll be covered in a mineral oil, so rinsing it with water would actually make the burn worse.”

Pausing for a moment, you consider the possibility that Spencer didn’t have the luxury of time – he was trying to solve a murder, not do experiments in a lab.

“Alkali burns can be serious, it all depends on what caused them, and most are helped by rinsing with water. So, unless you have the time to test for metal compounds, I’d go ahead and rinse it. You might want to brush the damage to the bones with a dry brush first. If there’s lime on the bones it’ll foam, which not only will corrode the bones even further but it might release a toxic gas,” you have no idea how the corrosion would interact with bone marrow, but something tell you that you don’t want to know

“Wait a minute,” Derek interjects, being included in the conversation now that Spencer put the call on speaker, “I thought things like alkaline water were good for you.”

You scoff instinctively, “Oh, there’s no definitive evidence that shows alkaline water as having any real health benefits. Especially not the benefits that the internet says it has.” Straightening up in your stool, you continue, “In fact, there is evidence from the NIH that says drinking alkaline water could cause kidney damage. There’s a particular-“

“My bad,” he interjects, effectively stopping your rambling before it really took off, “I forgot whose girlfriend I was talking to.”

Groaning at your new vexation, you huff, “Oh, fuck off, Derek. Go kick down a door.”

Spencer quickly switches the phone back, “Thank you, angel.”

Squinting at the photos that were still on your laptop screen, a crude, disturbing thought came to mind, “You know, sparklers can cause alkali burns. It might be something to consider because of the diameter of the burns.”

Your boyfriend was silent on his end of the call for so long that you had to check and make sure the call hadn't dropped. “Did you say sparklers?”

“Yep,” you confirm, “like the ones you can get everywhere this time of year.”

He says something to Morgan, placing his hand over the receiver so you can’t hear, “There’s only one spot in this town, though. I’ve gotta go, see you soon.”

“Stay safe, please! I prefer your bones unburned,” you rattle off into the phone before it clicks, placing the phone back on the stand and deleting the crime scene photos from your inbox.

The front door to the apartment opens and shuts quietly, with Spencer under the assumption that you already went to bed, he was surprised to find you on the couch, nursing a cup of tea. “Hey, baby,” he chirps, unusually peppy for this time of night.

“Hey,” you say half-heartedly, threading your fingers through the handle of the mug.

Your somber tone gets Spencer’s attention, “What’s wrong?”

The slight panic in his voice causes your eyes to snap up to his, “Nothing,” you murmur. “It’s just… the woman who was in those pictures. There- the burns on her bones, they were signs of torture, weren’t they?”

You’d been thinking about the burns ever since Spencer showed them to you, “Yes,” he answers with a reciprocating softness, sitting down next to you on the couch. “The medical examiner concluded that she was burned antemortem.”

That woman had been burned alive by fireworks, sparklers had seared their way through skin and muscle until it finally met her bones. You blink a few tears from your eyes at the thought, “I like my lab, Spence.”

The confusion on his face was palpable, “I know you do.”

“I like my minimal human interaction and my chemicals, and I like knowing why certain things cause certain reactions. I like it when things make sense.” You take a deep, shaky breath, “Killing someone. Torturing someone with fireworks. That just doesn’t make sense to me.”

You had no interest in hearing the excuses that the killer had provided. You had no interest in hearing the psychological breakdown of that woman’s killer. Spencer knows that, “The photos got to you?”

Taking a sip from your mug, you nod solemnly, “I can’t stop thinking about the way it must have felt. Oh, the smell must have been horrible. That poor woman.” In theory, it was a ridiculous notion, killing someone with fireworks seemed neither probable nor possible. Yet here you are.

“But we got the person who killed her,” Spencer reassures you, resting his hand gently on your knee. “We couldn’t have done it without you,” he adds.

Your face warms at his compliment, “I wish I could have helped before she was killed.” You were grateful that Spencer hadn’t passed on any personal information about the woman, it was easier for you if you kept things in separate storage files in your mind.

Spencer hums, reaching out and sweeping a strand of hair behind your ear, “There’s always going to be another one. I’m sorry about the photos, I should’ve made sure Garcia only sent the necessary ones.”

Nodding absentmindedly, you look at him thoughtfully, “This will pass, but for tonight I just feel bad for the victim.”

“I can have Penelope share some of her favorite baby animal videos, if you’d like,” he offers softly, resting his head on your shoulder.

In return, you give him a small smile, “Well, I suppose it really can’t hurt.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #written by margot #chemist!reader

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yandere-wishes · 6 months ago

Text

Alice in Marvel-land

𐙚Yandere! Deadpool (Wade Wilson) x Reader x Yandere Wolverine (Logan Howlett)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ In some worlds, you were Logan's little darling. In others, you were Wade's starry-eyed lover. But here in the void, there is only one of you and two of them.

⁀➷ GORE, yandere behavior, kidnapping, Deadpool being Deadpool.

⁺₊𝄞₊⁺ IDK, probs the Deadpool and Wolverine soundtrack

Logan feels the world slipping away.

Piece by piece, atom by atom.

In a blink, he's falling down darkness.

An endless rabbit hole.

What was the name of that fairy tale you liked so much?

The one with the girl who gets lost in splendor?

The dust is kicking up, framing the sunset portrait along the horizon.

The envoys are nearly home, this time they've brought someone back. The cage balls chime along the unsteady road. If you squint just far enough you can almost make out vibrant specks of red and yellow.

Strange, the void tends to wash out bright colors. Well, it tends to wash out just about everything.

You scrape your nails along the skeleton's sockets. Leave crescents in the decaying cartilage. "They're almost here" you call out awaiting Cassandra's next move. You watch dolefully as she's transfixed on a portal. The sparky thing unfurled like a fresh wound, strewing salt on persistent lacerations. She watches her brother, or well some variation of her brother. Surrounded by his new family, surrounded by those he loves. He's forgotten her, or maybe never even knew her. You think that the latter would hurt the most.

"Cassandra" Your voice rises in octave, this time getting her attention. "They're here".

"Coming" She sings, voice so chip it almost sounds like unshed tears. You send a final glare at the portal before it collapses on itself.

If you tried hard enough, maybe you could bring yourself to understand her pain. Those pesky notions of desperation for someone to love. But it

doesn't matter now everyone you've ever loved is dead anyway. And unlike Cassandra, you've long since given up on the childish dreams of being rescued by someone who would offer up love so freely.

"Maybe shut up now"

Logan's nerves are frying. Thin strings snapping with every syllable that leaves the red merc's mouth. He's starting to appreciate Stryker in a way he didn't even know he could. The man was a psychotic sadist but at least he knew when to sew someone's mouth shut. Maybe he can convince this Cassadra chick to do the same.

Logan's eyes are almost at 90 degrees of a roll when they stop. He stops, frozen. In the gaping mouth of the rotting skull, something all too familiar stands.

Or rather someone.

Someone he knew.

Someone he loved.

Your name tastes bitter on his tongue. All death and whisky.

Maybe cause it's been so long since the attack. Since he walked off for the night and left his family to die. Cause the last time he saw you, you were a mangled corpse laying in an open grave. Deadweight as he cradled you in his arms.

You walk closer. Face painted in too many shades of confusion.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Damn, he's started quoting that stupid book again.

"How do you know my name" You ask. You look just as beautiful as he remembers. Spine carved straight in pride with perfect lips, perfect eyes. His talons itch to glide across your soft skin, to feel you so intimately once more.

"LOOOGAN did you see what the bald chick just- HEY!!"

It takes too much effort to pull his gaze away. To stare at red and black and be reminded of cruel realities. But Wade has a tendency to be a persistent ache, some unwelcomed anchor to every problem he's ever had.

Only this time when he actually looks at him. Looks at the jittery body that's stilled abruptly. He can't help but be glad that he did. A bitter laugh bubbles in his throat. Maybe Wade's shut up for good this time.

He always knew you were special but this is truly a miracle.

"IT'S YOU!!"

Nope, didn't work. He knew he couldn't be that lucky.

Wade whispers your name, a forgotten prayer. Logan didn't even know the loudmouth knew how to pray. But he seems to almost soften when he sees you. That feral, cheeky killer, looks so so soft when he stares into your doe-eyes. Reaching out zealously to twirl a lock of your hair around his blood-soaked finger.

He can almost feel Wade choking on your essence, heart erratic, like a child finding a lost toy. He's drowning in ecstasy, and Logan is almost tempted to join him. You're here, a breath away. So close it's taking every ounce of self-control not to pull you to his chest and keep you locked between his arms until he finally dies too.

"Penunt look that's my girl!!"

"Your girl!?"

He had taken you for granted as he tends to do with most peaceful things. The realization had occurred a little too late. Right as he had been emptying a round into the target of the week's head.

He lands.

Arms high like an Olympian pleasing the crowd.

He wonders if he can make you cheer for him.

Clap and shout his name as he twirls around the mess he's made.

He wants to feel loved, although he'll never say it out loud. He's only ever been good with words when they're laced with sarcasm and profanity.

And maybe 'I love you' is just about the most obscene thing he can ever say to someone as sweet as you.

Wade plays the white rabbit, fluffy coat stained red from every kill. Tricking poor Alice into following him down cruel rabbit holes. Making you chase him through labyrinths then leaving you at every turn. He leads you to every kill, makes you watch as he dances in slaughter. He can even feel your eyes right now. Starlight slicing him open to quench vulgar interests.

Alice always follows the rabbit.

He stalks closer, white eyes fixated on your deliciously bewildered expression. Precious thing caught in a warzone. He can almost taste you on his tongue, the sharp tip of a star slivering the inside of his mouth, soft hands painting crescent moons along the back of his neck. He needs to carve his essence across your lips, to pour the after-kill adrenaline into your soul. He needs you.

Only this time...

This time he'd been too distracted. So caught up in claiming you as his victory prize that he didn't notice the grizzled man clinging to life...

And a pistole.

The bullet punctures his shoulder. An afterthought.

But the lead keeps going.

Penetrating the air until it lands bunglingly between your eyes.

You fall into his arms.

Deadweight.

Did the white rabbit ever miss Alice?

Did he ever realize how truly special such a curious girl made him feel?

He doubts it.

Doubts that a stupid rodent would have better emotional stability than him.

He's been given a second chance. A whole plethora of them actually. He's been deemed holy, righteous. And aren't gifts of marvel bestowed upon the truly blessed? What better blessing than the sight of you standing amongst the sand and skulls?

Good to see your affinity for dainty dresses spans across all universes...

He lets the blood trickle down his claws.

What else is there to do but dream of you?

It's the fourth day of his massacre and he's lost count of how many humans he's killed. Maybe cause after the first hundred the faces tend to blur.

He leaves your pleasants in between the rotting carcasses and broken glass. Only taking the torturous parts of you. The things that can hurt him. The sharp edges that he can slit his pulse point on, the vague memory of your glare before you cried. The soft skin of your neck between his jagged teeth.

Enough to keep the hate burning.

He wonders if the creatures of Wonderland wept after Alice left. He wonders if Wonderland lost its wonder.

But now you're standing here.

Alive.

And he wants so badly to remember the sweet taste of your lips. The soft push against his chapped lips as he swallows you whole. Even desperate rabbits can go a little feral. His eyes take in every breath, every scowl.

Alive.

Good to see your affinity for dainty dresses spans across all universes...

Aliath skids forward, mystified in lightning and smoke. You feel your bones collapsing under the rugged man's, Logan's, vice grip. You thrash and scream trying to break free but he only barks out orders to his friend before they take off running.

"Your safe, don't worry we got you." There's a comedic cadence to every word Wade says. You can almost fool yourself into enjoying it if the two weren't actively attempting to defy Cassandra, to defy Aliath, to defy deities and absolutes. To ripe you away from the only semblance of opulence you've come to know.

"Let me go, you custome-wearing freaks." His gripe tenses. "Don't struggle so much, we said you're safe, now hold still" Logan's anger ripples through you. It's almost muscle memory to still, to obey.

Did you know him? Know them?

In some past life too out of reach?

The ground shutters to a jagged rhythm. You're flying up, escaping the misty horrors of the ground. Your head pounds with the force, air slapping across your body as you taste the cotton of the clouds between your teeth.

Is this how Alice felt as her head hit the roof?

Wade mutters about the stars and educated wishes. About people who live and matter. Logan slices through his thigh, the mercenary's optimism making his body ring with phantom pains.

No one matters.

And when they start to, they die.

There are cruel absolutes in this world. He's tasted them all. Let them slice his tongue and heart and danced to every tune they've sung. He rips his claws out and digs them into Wade's chest.

Again

And again.

Wade savors the salty tang of blood inside his mouth.

Licks his teeth and runs his tongue over the gaping holes.

He's sitting in the front seat head rolled back.

High off the blood and adrenaline and the thought of having you so close.

"I take it all back, the Honda odysseys fucks hard"

Bones crack, interrupted mid-heal as Logan turns his head to glare. "Shut up" he rasps and Wade almost, almost, hears approval.

There's a low moan reverberating across the broken car. Late night sleepy mumble that's half 'I love you' and half 'I need you'. Neither one has heard it in such a long time.

"Finally awake sleeping beauty? Kinda surprised you could sleep through all of that" Wade shimmies to the back, only to be greeted by your foot smashing into his face, cracking his nose open, and sending a fresh wave of blood into his mouth. He pins your knee to the seat and wiggles himself between you. caging you with his elbows as he stares down at your pretty face. "Miss me, angel baby?"

"Wrong fairy tale" Logan turns around in his seat, claws out running them across your cheek "Please stop, just let me go" you've never begged before, never fallen so low. But these two things, mutants, mutates, or whatever they are, scare you. Reckless, suicidal, dangerous. You feel so helpless in their presence. Never knowing you're to be kissed or killed.

"You're as lovely as I remember" The melancholy colors him in a monochrome of sympathy. Here is a man who's gone through every horror and still gets out of bed. Or maybe he has to, maybe he can't quite die and can't quite reach heaven. So he gulps down his immortality with black coffee to at least pretend he's being buried six feet deep. "Even after all this time I still love you" You almost melt in his brown eyes. So lonely, so desperate.

Kill or kiss

You want him to do both. Want to kiss extinction on his lips while being impaled by the claws. Kill or kiss.

Both, both, both.

"You know~" Wade pushes himself up, "I think your dress should be red...and black. To match your favorite man."

"Who the hell said you were the favorite?" Wade leans forward, in a blink he's gripped Logan's wrist and lunged the Wolvarine's claws into your abdomen.

You writhe, the bones and metal feel almost heavenly inside of you. When he retracts the claws you moan out, it's too saccharine to hold back. Everything feels so much lighter, colorful. You feel your essence slipping out, gushing over the back seat.

Red waterfall, so pretty.

Dress stained red.

"Told ya so!"

Wade pulls you roughly by the shoulders and smashes his lips against yours. He's so cute, fickle Cheshire cat, tongue dancing across your mouth, slitting itself on your peaked teeth, and filling your mouth with thick red caterpillar smoke. "What the hell is wrong with you? You really are God's perfect idiot" Logan's anger is tangible, sweet, and bitter like hatter tea at midnight.

"S'okay Logan, it feels nice" Your words slur, slipping gauche from your tongue as you giggle profusely. You feel like Alice cracking open Wonderland's ribs, crawling inside, and smearing the wonder across your face.

"When I used to read fairy tales, I fancied that kind of thing never happened, and now here I am in the middle of one" You've heard these words before, Alice's words. she's right. Your fairy tale is painted red with pretty, crazy, princes who think that slicing open a princess is easier than kissing her. You reach out for Logan, desperate for a kiss. "eat me" you mutter, and Logan's face morphs into pure terror "Wade what the hell have you done to her?".

"What? It's better this way trust me"

"I hate you"

Logan bends, meeting you halfway. He kisses you with all the wary of a dead man walking. All teeth and heart and bitter memories left to rot three lifetimes ago. He pushes himself between your bones, trying to carve out his ethos in your body. He'd burn the world so long as he gets to keep you.

You squeeze your thighs around Wade's muscular thighs and hips unlocking a gibby giggle from the man. His mask is half pulled up as he trails sloppy fervorous kisses across your neck and chest. The nostalgia slithering under your skin has you squirming, you've been through this all before. In a past life somewhere where storm monsters and voids don't exist. "Remember how good this feels?" Wade mumbles as his fingers dig into your puncture wounds, drawing slow, desperate moans from your puffy lips. You don't dare answer you don't know what would be worst admitting to liking the loudmouth ministrations or admitting there were other versions of you out there, other happy versions.

"Oh for hell's sake," Logan reclines the front seat and shuffles closer. Pulling down the back of your dress. His kisses are bite marks in disguise rabid and feral, the two things the man will never escape. His name rolls across your tongue, you let it slip in an airy moan. "No fair " Wade complains "I want you to say my name too." He pulls out his baby knife and etches the skin of your thighs. Scribbling doodles of stars and half hearts and the little symbol he wears on his belt. "W-wade" you gasp never knowing whether to scream in pain or giggle in bliss.

Logan laughs into your neck. You didn't even know he was capable of such a gentle thing. You bite his lip playfully. Dragging your fingers across his muscular arms. Your thumb pushes into the space between his knuckles asking for the claws. For the most macabre parts of him. You glide your tongue across the parish where flesh meets metal. Kissing the metal and bones and lapping at the blood. Watch curiously as he draws out a long airy sigh. "Good girl" he mumbles voice marred with ecstasy and you almost see the ghost of a smile smear across his pretty lips.

Wade's thumb gently rubs against your hips. Softly usering you into peace, tranquility. Your eyes get heavy, the car gets blurry. The grotesque realignment of their bones steering you into a deep, content sleep.

"Hey Peanut, you think Alice in Wonderland here would mind if we keep going? "

"Shut it, moron "

"Oh, how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could, if only I knew how to begin.”

🎀Bonus

Deadpool: "Do you think the author's going to write about us again? Or is she planning to finally write that Dune fic she keeps talking about?

Wolverine: "I have no fucking idea what the hell you're even talking about.

🪐@yandere-romanticaa @bad4amficideas @sugarplumz100 @oscarissac2099 @facelessfionna @siphite @tocotuesday69 @linoleunm @mei-simp @shamelessdarkprince @gabriqllas @lovely-liliacs @shiroi-asashin17 @failinguniversity

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sepherinaspoppies · 8 days ago

Text

Only If For A Night

ꕥ series masterlist & taglist ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ masterlist ✧₊⁺AO3

⟢summary: In Dia De Los Muertos (Day of the Dead), she gets forcefully transported to Westeros and meets her favorite book character, Aemond 'One Eye'. She asks and begs for his help to send her back home after realizing this was a world she did not want to live in. Unknowingly to her, her favorite fictional man had already grown too attached to fully let her go.

⟢pairing: Dark! Book Aemond Targaryen x Modern! Reader

⟢warnings for this part: Mentions of dead bodies, Harrenhal visions, light gore, Ser Crispy Coleslaw, Aemond being jealous and horny.

⟢wc: 7,872

⟢gif credit: @peachysunrize but she deleted her acc so im sorry!

Chapter 3: Me and the Devil

She was doing her best not to lose her mind. She’s never been stuck in a situationship like this before. Or hardly knew anyone that had been. Stuff like this only occurred in…books. In which she was now in the middle of.

She had so many questions yet no answers.

She knew she had to come up with some sort of well thought out plan. But if she was being honest, she barely even had a pl. As Phoebe Buffay once said on an early episode of Friends.

One thing was for sure, she was in the Riverlands. Harrenhal. Westeros. If she had her history correct, and she did, the year is currently 130 AC.

Rhaenyra Targaryen had just taken over the city of King’s Landing with the help of the Rogue Prince at her side.

She recalls how this news caused Aemond to go on a seize of murderous rampage, killing the entirety of House Strong. The very same pile of dead bodies she saw in the outer yard, those were them.

As much as she tried, she couldn’t get that horrifying image out of her head. Not now and perhaps not even the days to come. With every blink of her eyes, she saw them; bloody, decaying, eyes wide of what they felt before death: fear.

Don’t throw up, don’t throw up.

Not that there was much in her stomach to.

Shortly after Aemond had severed the guard’s head, she had literally thrown up just inches away from his feet.

He did not say much, only bringing a small green handkerchief from his pocket and wiped remnants away from her lips. Instead of being angry or disgusted, Aemond’s face exhibited only concern.

Because of that she was escorted inside Harren’s castle with haste by Aemond’s orders. With the very little time she had, she tried to go against this but her words were swiftly overlooked and ignored.

She was brought into a medium sized room at the highest tower of Harrenhal. The room wasn’t much to look at. High stoned black walls with no decorations or personality. A canopy bed with multiple pillows and furs laid near the window with two nightstands on each side, holding lit candelabras.

Facing the canopy was a vanity table with nothing but dried flowers and a dusted mirror that she couldn’t make out her reflection. It was obvious that no one had occupied this room in a very long time. The cobwebs, near all four corners of the ceiling, confirmed it.

To the left of the vanity was a beige folding screen and behind it was a large white bathtub that she had been thrown in immediately upon arriving in the room by two older women.

After she had been bathed and dressed, a third woman delivered a hot cup of peppermint tea to ease the nausea. However, after they left she made sure to discard the cup, choosing not to drink anything, harboring feelings of distrust when she previously drank a cup of tea.

The sound of the door being opened caused her to sit rigidly on the chair, thinking it was a particular one eyed prince entering the room. Instead, the knots in her stomach loosened as an elderly man made his way inside, offering her a simple smile before he set a leather bag he’d been holding on a nearby table.

Her mouth opened, wondering who he was but as she assessed his gray robes and the several decorated chains hanging from his neck, he’d have to be a maester.

Something close to a doctor in her world.

“You have not touched the tea, my lady.” His voice was barely audible, gentle as he pointed out. “Are you allergic to peppermint?”

“No,” she shook her head, her eyes landing on the medical supplies being brought to the rounded table. She recognized some of them such as the suturing kit, scale, gauze, scissors and a scalpel.

Her abuelo, Vidalio, had a collection of identical vintage medical supplies in his office that often as a kid she’d glance at in complete fascination.

“Are you not partial to peppermint?” The maester questioned.

“I’m not partial to drinking something that I did not see being made,” she added. After drinking that tea Alyssandra had given her, there was no way she’d risk doing that again. “Besides, peppermint is most known to target headaches. If you were to mix ginger and chamomile, then you have an accurate tea to treat nausea.”

The maester lifted a bush eyebrow, cocking his head to side taking her suggestion into consideration. “Very well. I’ll bring a cup of boiling water—” He tried saying, only for her to sprint directly in front of him.

“—there’s no need. I am well; as you can see.” She feigned a recovered smile.

“I still am in need of boiling water to brew milk of the poppy, my lady.”

It was her turn to gaze at him in wonder. “What for?” She inquired. She knew what milk of the poppy was. An opium made from the poppy flower to aid in severe pain and to anesthetize a person out cold in a deep sleep.

It was also the same pearly liquid she read in A Game of Thrones that Grand Maester Pycelle used to treat Ned Stark after an altercation he had with Jaime Lannister, which gave the Warden of the North, strange dreams. ‘Poppy dreams’ otherwise known as hallucinations.

As helpful as it was, it was also very addictive. Equivalent to morphine and fentanyl. As an intern at St. David’s Hospital, she’d seen how bad opioids took a toll on people.

So it was safe enough to say she wasn’t going to be easily convinced to take it.

The older man pointed at the swollen cut on her lower lip, where that asshole of a guard had slapped her hours ago. “The wound on your lip; I have to stitch it. I will use milk of the poppy to ease the discomfort when inserting the needle into your lip.”

“I already said I’m fine.” She answers more firmly. She glanced at the multitudinous array of small amber jars on the table that contained different kinds of fine powders, liquids, dried herbs, seeds, and strange looking roots.

She was able to make out a little bit of everything. Though, nothing of the sort would be needed for something so minor. Rubbing alcohol and perhaps a topical antibiotic ointment were as good as any.

“Tis’ not what the prince thinks, my lady.” The maester abruptly murmurs out, fearfully looking at the door. If the prince were to walk into the room, seeing his guest not being properly treated as he demanded, he too would suffer the same unmerciful fate as his lord.

“It’s a superficial cut! You can tell the prince, I don’t need tea or stitches.” What she needed was to get out of here and go home.

“A topical amoxicillin ointment should be enough. Though, I don’t think it exists here.” In fact no modern medicine could be found here. This era was if not the same as medieval times, where people die everyday of infection or contamination due to the lack of antibiotics, antivirals, and vaccines.

She felt lucky that all of her vaccines were up to date.

Except maybe for her yearly flu shot. Fuck!

The maester tilted his head in surprise, “Are you a healer?” He asked, intrigued that she too knew medicinal practices. Most witches did not, if he believed the rumors around the castle.

She crouched down, eyeing the herbs that caught her attention.

“Something like that. I know enough to know that I don’t need stitches. It’s just a little bit of swelling that will go down in a day or two if I ice it.” Though, she wasn’t sure how the maester would get ice in the Riverlands. If this was the North, ice wouldn’t be a problem.

The maester, befuddled, nodded. Knowing that his endeavors to treat her lip were pointless, he slid her a small amber salve of bread mold.

She gave him a ‘what the hell is that?’ kind of look, in which he explained it was an ointment to prevent infections.

After a few series of questions, she realized that this bread mold was as close as what she was going to get to penicillin.

A look of relief and ease plastered on the maester’s face as she delicately dabbed some of the salve on her wound. She was equivocal if the salve was meant to have a bitter taste or smell, but she kept her thoughts to herself as she wanted this visit to speed up.

“What’s your name?” She asked while watching the man place his medical supplies in his bag with uttermost care.

“They call me Maester Nywen.” He revealed.

She pronounced his name repeatedly in her head, trying to remember if he was mentioned in Fire & Blood. Though, there was no record of him at all.

“I’m—”

“I know who you are, my lady.” Nywen interjected. Everyone knew her name, including the walls of Haren’s castle. It was said she possessed otherworldly abilities unknown to men.

In his many years serving House Strong, Nywen never came across her path. Never saw her in the flesh. Just tales and rumors. Some that he believed; such as her being his lord’s favorite out of his true born sons and daughters. Some that Nywen didn’t quite believe; like the rumor of her bathing in maiden’s blood to remain forever youthful.

Looking at her now, her complexion differed from what he pictured.

To her befuddlement, she had no idea how Nywen knew her name. She didn’t remember mentioning it to anyone, including the old ladies.

This was all some weird mystery that was making her feel dizzy and unsettled. She only now wished she had some Ibuprofen or an Advil pill to dull the pain in her head.

“If this is all, I must take my leave. Good day, my lady.”

“Wait! I’ll go with you,” she called out, and the older man came to a halt before he exited the door.

A look of sympathy came on Nywen’s face. “Apologies, my lady, but the prince ordered for you to remain here.”

“Wait, what?!” She followed a close second after him, perplexed. Nywen gave her one last look of remorse, “I am sorry, my lady. You won’t be kept in here for long. The prince has some matters to attend to before he calls for you. Should you come in need of anything, ring the bell.”

“Nywen!” She called out, but it was too late as the door was suddenly closed right in her face. The sound of a lock confirmed her fears.

She was alone again.

She wondered how abuela Selena was doing. The older woman, who’d been more like a second mother to her, had come across her mind a lot more now.

Had she known she was missing?

Of course she did; she was probably seriously panicking right now and sent out a search party to look for her.

The pueblo was small, and it wouldn’t have taken her family long to figure out she wasn’t there or in any surrounding pueblos. She knew that wouldn’t hinder them from continuing their search for her. Her family were strong and brazen fighters and would stop at nothing to keep the family safe.

She also wondered if her mother knew. Though, she already knew the answer to that. Her very overprotective mother, who calls every hour of each day, must have flown from the states the second she did not answer the phone. A heavy argument most likely would’ve happened between her mother and her abuela, Selena, for not keeping a close eye on her.

Even if the fault had not been her abuela’s, she feared that her disappearance became a fresh new layer of conflict added on top of the decades long strife between her mother and Selena.

She did not wish for that. For years, she’d attempted to push them together to communicate and get past whatever tension they had between them. She prayed that things would not escalate further between them in her absence.

She could just imagine seeing them after all of this was over.

But to pinpoint when?

Now, that was going to be challenging.

She was so high up in Harren’s castle that she wished she were some type of bird. A raven, perhaps. With great big and wide wings to fly to carry her away.

Fly, a voice whispered next to her.

Startled, she snapped her head up to the side in the direction of the voice. “What?” She asked with a shaky voice.

You have wings. Use them.

She glanced behind her shoulders, feeling for soft feathers but was met with bare skin and no wings.

“Liar.” She asserted back. And the voice responded something in return, though it was barely audible.

However, something in the room had shifted. It became darker, colder, and overall strange. The dark hairs on her arms stood when the flames of the candles blew out one by one by themselves while the hinges of the door creaked open.

A thin curtain of light appeared at the end of the hall and her body seemed to sense some type of energy vibrating around the room, pulling her to leave now that the door was unlocked.

A part of her debated whether or not to take the risk and leave as this was exactly how people died in scary movies, by following strange energies. Another part of her said fuck it, sensing the energy as not evil or not good either.

She let out a frightened gasp as the door shut completely from behind and the vibrating energy increased tenfold. The longer she walked throughout the corridor, she began to realize that the buzzing was actually a low humming sound echoing down the hall.

A song.

Arrorró, mi niño

Arrorró, mi Sol

Arrorró pedazo

De mi corazón

Abuelo Vidalio would sing that exact song as a lullaby when she had trouble sleeping as a child. Which happened to be all of the time since she experienced very vivid dreams about strange people and creatures she did not recognize. Vidalio, with his soothing voice, would be there to sing the bad dreams away.

Este niño lindo

Que nació de noche

Quiere que lo lleven

A pasear en coche

Could it be him?

With trembling hands, she takes a peek through the slim opening. A large and nicely furnished room is set directly in front of her. It sort of reminded her of Vidalio’s private studio near the outskirts of her family’s home. Vidalio had a love for old vintage things like outdated medical books, scrolls, medical supplies, herb vials, maps, and furniture.

Some of those things decorated the inside room.

In the center, a man sat on a wooden rocking chair with his back towards her. She glanced at the carvings on the top rail of the chair; a three headed dragon, wolf, lion, some sort of sea creature, fish, falcon, stag, and a rose.

Instantly, she knew who the rocking chair belonged to.

“Abuelo?” She asks aporetically. Although she missed him terribly, she secretly hoped it wouldn’t be him. Since he, himself, had been dead for years. And it wasn’t like she didn’t believe in ghosts; she did.

The humming impetuously ends before it begins, and so does the back and forth movement of the rocking chair.

Purple eyes stare directly at hers like he’d been waiting a while for her to come in. “El niño no se puede dormir,” Vidalio addresses her in complete distress. (the boy can’t fall asleep)

His appearance made her halt on her tracks, he looked and dressed differently than what he normally looked like. She remembered him older, tanner, his light blonde hair styled directly away from his face, with more modern fitted clothes.

Here he was younger with milky white skin that was untouched from the harsh Mexican sun; his hair slightly long and silver. And more importantly, his clothes were strange and old fashioned, almost aristocratic.

The only way she knew for certain this was her abuelo, was by a polaroid her abuela took of Vidalio when he was young, were they both briefly lived in Cancun.

How was it possible that he was here, in Harrenhal?

In Westeros?

How could it be?

Her lack of response causes Vidalio to continue humming the lullaby as he sways something tight on his arms.

A boy, no more than eight, laid lifeless across Vidalio’s arms. Small cuts and bruises painted across the young boy’s small and delicate face and body. All while fresh blood dripped from the side of his chest, pooling down onto the floor.

He was bleeding out.

Yet, the boy was already dead.

What was more harrowing of it all, were the boy’s eyes. They were a rich and dark violet color, wide, blinking and staring right at her.

Through her.

It was the only thing about him that was alive.

Este niño lindo

Ya quiere dormir

Háganle la cuna

De rosa y jazmín

“We need to take him to a hospital,” she frantically suggested. Maybe the boy wasn’t completely deceased. Maybe all he needed was proper medical attention like a blood transfusion and a few stitches.

“It’s too late.” Her abuelo pointed out. “All he needs now is the comfort of his mother.” Vidalio gives the boy one last hug before he stretches the body in her direction.

“What?!” She exclaims, feeling the air in her lungs rapidly leaving her body.

Surely, he didn’t mean the little boy was hers…

This didn’t seem possible. A mother is able to recognize the face of their own child. She’d hear on multiple occasions from mothers, at the hospital she interns in, how a sort of natural maternal instinct and intuition set in the moment they became mothers.

She’d know if she had a child, but that boy was not hers.

Or was it?

“I- I need to go. This isn’t real. This-this isn’t true. You aren’t real. You are dead.” She says between ragged breaths, feeling a panic attack brewing in.

She took a few steps back, only to be met with a cold hard chest. An older man, perhaps in his late sixties, with long silver-white hair and dark eyes, smiled warmly at her. Beside him, were six other men and a singular woman.

She noticed that the two older men wore more modern clothes, while the others wore some sort of old fashioned clothes similar to Vidalio’s, embroidered by the same red design.

“I’m sorry,” she let out an apology to the older man. The man, though, remained unfazed. He simply continued to look at her with tears in his eyes before he replied with a strangled voice. “Mama.”

“No. Oh, no, no.” She shook her head, placing some distance between them. All of them. As if that would help them disappear.

Yea she needed to get the fuck out right now.

She eyed the door and ran towards the opening, leaving behind people that did not exist. For a moment, she believed she heard something but dismissed it as quickly as lightning.

She saw people along her path but whether they were real or not she did not know or care for. Her goal was to leave. Leave this place, sapphire or not.

Halfway into her sprint, she got the feeling she was being followed. So she ran into a solitary hallway and opened the first door she saw.

“You’re early.”

She drew in a sharp breath as she came across the last person she wished to see right now, none other than Aemond Targaryen.

The prince’s lone eye was practically sparkling when looking at her after being hours apart. She had been away for too long for his taste.

Aemond would have preferred for her to come after everything– the wine, dinner, and dessert– were perfectly set up on the table as he had planned.

Yet, she was here now.

With the light blue with silver gown he specifically picked out. The colors itself reminded Aemond of House Arryn, a traitorous house that sided with the whore that was his half-sister. Though, the colors were at least better than that of House Strong.

Aemond almost had the two women killed for even considering such bletcherous colors for his one and only to wear.

Blind luck was bestowed upon them when another woman quickly brought an unused gown from her daughter’s armoire. Which was the one his love was currently wearing.

She looked mesmerizing. Goddess like. The very Maiden in the flesh.

“Are you alright?” Aemond asked as he noticed her out of breath appearance.

Before she had a chance to say anything, a tall and dark haired knight came in; presumably after her as he was out of breath too.

Aemond looked between Ser Criston and his one and only, and concluded that he’d been chasing her for some time.

“Tis’ alright, Cole. No grave offense has occurred,” Aemond affirmed with a court nod.

She blinked, assessing the man who was one of few to cause the civil war, Dance of the Dragons, between Aegon and Rhaenyra.

He appeared just as he was described in the books.

Charming.

Though, she did not expect him to be quite so… short.

Whilst Aemond stood exceptionally tall, Ser Coleslaw seemed no taller than five foot and eight inches. Perhaps that is one of many reasons he was such a misogynistic dick who couldn’t handle rejection.

If she did the math correctly by the current year, he must’ve been in his late forties. Yet he had this youthful look about him that one wouldn’t have guessed he was reaching his fifties.

Not that he would live to see his fifties.

Days later he would die south of the Gods Eye.

“Holy shit, you’re Criston Cole?!” She exclaimed not with fascination but with distaste lacing her tone.

The Kingmaker placed a hand on the pommel of his sword, glaring at her with such vigilance. “I am. Have we met before?”

“Not really–”

“Leave us, Cole.” Aemond snapped unexpectedly, causing her body to jolt at the intensity of his voice.

Criston shifted his focus to the prince regent. “I think it would be wise if I stay, my prince. Wouldn’t want anything… unseemly to happen.”

Oh.

At that, she took a few steps away from Aemond, placing as much distance between them as possible.

The mere thought of her and Aemond together made her feel uneasy and very unsettling. He was a prince. Royalty.

While she was the opposite of what he was. A simple commoner.

Aemond kept himself from frowning at the space his love placed between. He clearly did not intend to take her today, as much as he desired to.

His incessant desire and appetite would be sated the moment they were joined as one.

Which would be soon, if everything went according to plan.

“Leave us. It is a command,” Aemond said, tone much demanding and darker.

Criston clenched his jaw in anger before he turned to leave. Just as he was about to shut the door he gave her one last look.

There was no kindness in his cold green eyes. Rather he looked at her like the dirt beneath his boot that quickly needed to be swept away.

“Do you always captivate this much trouble, my lady?” Aemond asks, just seconds after the door closes.

She is only able to let out a hum as she feels all the words in her throat shrivel and dry up.

Aemond’s white linen shirt hung loosely and unbuttoned against his chest; His pants were halfway unlaced.

Aemond looked down at her silently, waiting for an answer from her. Yet she stood there gawking at the man in front of her, with his toned-pale chest on display, light silver trail of hair below his navel, leading to–

She apologizes quickly before rapidly turning around to grant him some privacy.

Doing so caused Aemond to curl his lip into a smirk. She didn’t need to be sorry about her curious glances. Aemond thought to himself. Very soon, she’ll be well acquainted with his body; as well as he with hers too.

Though, that day could not be any sooner. Much to his dismay, Aemond had to settle on that memory when she wore such sheer chemise. The same clothing he kept to himself after she was dressed, and used to pleasure himself with just moments ago.

“What makes you think that?” She added, her voice stammering a bit but she masks it with a cough.

“You outran three of my guards, for starters, and managed to harm one of them. You also fled from your chamber without so much as a word,” Aemond breathed. “Will you hand me my doublet, please?”

Her hands reached for the black leather doublet in front of the armchair, handing it back to Aemond with hands over her eyes. “Are you saying that I shouldn’t have run and let them have their way with me?” Anger, panic, fear and disbelief brewing deep in her stomach

“Seven Hells, no. That is not what I am implying,” Aemond expresses. “I am elated that you managed to defend yourself and run. But if your reason for fleeing was because you harbor any fear that it will happen again, I can assure you it will not.”

She stilled for a moment, the hair follicles at the back of her head rose when she felt Aemond’s presence so close behind her. “As long as you are here, you’re under my protection. I will never let anyone or anything harm you. I promise you this.”

The very gruesome image of Aemond beheading the guard that assaulted her, deemed his promise held true.

Nevertheless, she was taken aback by the comment and the surface of her face felt warm. “Um thanks,” she nervously chuckled. It was the only thing she could say at such earnest promise.

“You can turn around now, if you wish.”

And she did. He looked well put together, dressed in all black from head to toe. The dark shade truly suited Aemond, giving him the illusion of a gothic prince.

In such proximity, she could smell something amidst smoke, fire, and ash emitting from his clothes.

Possibly from his dragon, Vhagar.

Vhagar.

Being the bookworm that she was, she wondered what the oldest and largest she-dragon looked like. Or where she was currently nesting at.

However, her nerdishness had to be set aside.

For now, atleast.

“Are you famished, my lady? The servants are to bring us dinner shortly, but if you’re hungry now I could ask them to speed it along.” Aemond asked across the room, his hand on the handle of the door.

She was about to refuse his polite offer, unfortunately for her the mention of dinner provoked her stomach to growl so loud that even Aemond heard it.

Damned traitor.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Aemond said, his lips curling into a witty grin. She held up her hand in a way to prevent him from arranging dinner, she didn’t have time for. “That won’t be necessary–”

“The ferocious noise inside your belly says otherwise,” he quips as he instructs a nearby servant for some food. “I am starved from killing Strongs all morning and afternoon. I crave something more fulfilling besides shellfish and mediocre soups.”

It was all Aemond ate at the capital after the Pretender ordered the blockade. At first, the small council had spent a remarkable amount on enough meat, poultry, grains, fruits, and vegetables for his family and guests. Subsequently, in a moon or so everything had run out. Fish, oysters, shrimp, and different kinds of soups were served.

Aemond did not mind, in the beginning, but after a while his appetite longed for his regular and satiated meals. He nearly took one of Vhagar’s goats for himself. Aemond knew he couldn’t as Vhagar needed her strength for upcoming battles and decided to let that foolish idea go.

A few minutes went by when an array of servants arrived inside the room, carrying hot plates of food. She recognized two of the servants. Both of whom helped her bathe and dress earlier.

One, she noticed, struggled to keep a ceramic bowl steady. Instantly, she took the bowl from her trembling hands. “The bowl is very hot, my lady. You must be careful!” The old woman warned as she tried to pry the plate off her hands.

Although she was touched by her worriment, she couldn’t help but to chuckle. “It’s alright. I’ve been accustomed to touching hotter things, and this is not nearly as hot as you think.” At a young age, she more than often would help her mama make homemade tortillas de harina and would flip them by hand in the comal while scorching hot. On the weekend’s she’d help out at her uncle Belen’s restaurant. Often serving customers hot plates of food straight from the stove. (flour tortillas, griddle)

So heat never really bothered her.

She placed the large bowl in the center of the table, adjacent to the other plates and pitchers. Then she proceeded to help the servants set the table.

All while doing so she couldn’t help but feel Aemond’s eye on her the entire time as she moved. He stood silent near one of the windows, patiently waiting until everyone that wasn’t her, to leave.

“Will that be all, my prince?” A kitchen servant asked, her eyes struggling to keep eye contact. Aemond waved the woman away, disinterestedly. Something about that irked her to her core, and it reminded her of the countless entitled customers who treated servers beneath them.

“Thank you,” she smiled at the servants before they took their leave. They returned the smile and she couldn’t help but to think if they’ve ever been thanked before and she was content that she did.

“Shall we dine?” Aemond gestured to the overly-filled table.

She nodded, her stomach doing flips for food. Before she had the chance to pull out a chair, Aemond beat her straight to it with a smug smile carved into his lips.

“In truth, I’m glad that you came now. I was to summon you for another hour while you had your rest but to my surprise the maester informed me that you refused treatment.” Aemond spoke from behind.

She sucked in a breath, shoulders tensing as the tips of Aemond’s fingers softly grazed around the exposed skin behind her neck. A spot where she felt insecure and anxious from anyone viewing.

Even the two older women, who bathed her, halted their scrubbing when they came across the two deep vertical scars on each of her shoulder blades. A part of her was relieved that they did not say anything and continued their scrubbing, but the overthinker in her worried if they were secretly judging behind her back.

Aemond pressed his lips together tightly, replacing a frown as she wiggled herself away from his touch.

“Stitches are required for deep or gaping wounds, and surgical incisions. I did not necessitate it since this is a superficial cut. It will heal in a day or two if I clean it properly to prevent infection. Nywen agreed as well as I did and supplied me with a topical antibiotic.”

She watched as Aemond slid into a seat directly across from her, digesting in her words.

“Nywen?” Aemond arched his brow.

“The maester.”

Aemond hummed, content by her answer. “You speak as if you’re a maester yourself.”

“I’m a nurse,” She shared proudly, though ignoring the fact she has not taken her NCLEX yet. Meaning she was not actually licensed.

Aemond appeared to be taken back by her response and redirected his eye to her very glorious and plump pair of breasts.

Would she allow him the pleasure to drink from her chest as well?

The one eyed prince could only wish.

Aemond could practically hear his one and only loudly moan and cry for him as he drank every last drop from her breasts, providing her with not only relief but also pleasure.

The thought alone made his cock stir underneath his breeches.

“Not a wet nurse!” She exclaimed, as she crossed her arms over her chest, attempting to cover her boobs.

That, however, proved to be fruitless as the action alone caused her boobs to thrust upwards, revealing more for his eye to see. The violet in Aemond’s lone eye darkened and she swore she almost heard him… moan.

“Forgive me, my lady. I didn't mean to cause offense,” Aemond softened his voice as he discreetly adjusted his hardness beneath the dining table, stifling a hiss at the throbbing sensation.

“I never met a woman who practices conventional medical treatment; especially a young woman. Just old men. But seeing as to the maester being gone–”

Hearing that caused her head to snap up. “–Gone?”

“Yes, he left shortly after he was done treating you. I bid his freedom in exchange for his services and you were his last patient.” Aemond briefly told as he grabbed a slice of some type of roasted meat onto his plate.

“Well, that’s good to hear. At least he is free to see his family now,” she exhaled a breath she didn’t know she held.

Aemond hummed in agreement, choosing to spare the grisly details of him beheading the maester for treason against the crown.

In a way, the maester did get to finally visit his family, along with his liege.

“With him gone, perhaps you’d want to take his place?” Aemond offered coolly.

It wasn’t like she would stay here long enough to help heal his people. She had a deadline to meet and follow, and the One Eyed Prince sure as hell wasn’t going to get in her way. So she chose to give him a little inconsequential lie.

“Perhaps,” she shrugged as she began to assess the food upon the table.

And boy, were there many to choose from. There was a variety of cooked meats, sauteed vegetables, hot stews, breads, cheeses, and fruits.

It reminded her of an all-you-could-eat buffet.

She ended up selecting the same type of roasted meat as Aemond, paired with a small slice of bread and a goblet half full of a golden liquid she believed was some sort of juice.

By the way he was staring at her, she almost wanted to tell Aemond to take a picture to make it last longer but saying such a thing would be indecipherable to Aemond.

Rather it was better to say “paint a portrait.”

Now, however, was not the time to be comical.

Aemond began shifting to a new topic of conversation when she took the first bite of what he said was ‘roasted duck’. Instantly, she scrunched her face at the off- putting taste.

She always preferred her meat to be cooked well done and generously seasoned with garlic, salt, pepper, with a hint of rosemary and chili peppers for spice.

Though this meat itself felt uncooked in the center, bland and not seasoned correctly.

But what else could she expect from Westeros?

Aemond watched from where he sat, disheartened by her dischuffed reaction, “Is the duck not to your liking?”

No. She wanted to reply but she had a feeling that if she denied him, Aemond would try to convince her to take another dish.

“It’s good, thank you.” She lied after she forcefully swallowed the meat, smiling as she reached for her goblet to wash down the horrible aftertaste that lingered in her mouth.

Aemond was not in the slightest convinced that it was or the wine judging from her disapproving reaction. “Here, have some Dornish red. It is what I’m drinking, much better than the shit from Lannisport you drank.”

With hesitance, she took the cup. His fingers brushed with her own with a gentle caress that shocked her and almost pulled away from, if not for the goblet being nearly full.

She examined the dark red wine carefully before sampling it. There was a sweetness blended with some sourness that had her wondering if she had it before. It wasn’t a bad taste but it was definitely strong.

“Better?” Aemond queried, sitting straighter.

“Well you’re definitely right about the other one tasting like shit.” She laughed as she drank more Dornish red.

She's had some questionable alcohol before, but Lannisport wine definitely takes the cake. It was like drinking straight raw honey and cinnamon.

Aemond joined in with her laughter. “Dornish red can be quite strong and can surely get a person drunk if they have not eaten. Mayhaps I can have the cooks prepare something you prefer eating. What would you like?”

There were many foods she craved right now.

Back home, her abuela was preparing the masa for the tamales that took hours to make just for the entire family. (dough)

Her cousins Sara and Valeria, planned to bring a very spicy pozole and mole from their side of the family.

Tio Belen and tia Alicia were bringing their infamous chocoflan and caramel empanadas for dessert.

Those meals alone were what she wanted more than anything.

Sadly, there were zero chances that Westeros had any of that.

Especially during a war.

“I’m alright, thank you. I’ll stick to eating this, it’s not so bad now with the wine,” she reassured. Last thing she wanted was to waste food. Something she despised.

Her answer, however, wasn’t what Aemond hoped for but he settled on it for now.

“I do, myself, wish to know how exactly a lady such as yourself came to be wandering about in the woods, dressed in nothing but her shift.” Aemond implored, tilting his head to the side.

Uh oh.

“The remaining guards confessed that you were wearing your shift when they found you. Prompting them to believe you were some mislead whore. It still doesn’t justify their actions against you and for that I sincerely apologize. But, I’d like to hear your side of the tale if you do not mind.”

It all had been some unusual mystery, how she— the woman he had been expecting for ten years— came running onto his arms out of the blue.

Your life awaits

Was all Helaena said before he left to take back Harrenhal.

The pounding of her heart increased tenfold. She knew she had to stick to the truth as much as humanly possible, only altering the details that had to be kept secret.

She wouldn’t deny a part of her wondered if there was even a chance of coming clean to Aemond.

Without proof, maybe he’d think she was ludicrous.

If someone from Westeros came to the modern world, and extemporaneously said they’d been transported from a fictional universe, she without a doubt thought they were on some sort of crack.

She clears her throat, blinking rapidly in search of the right words to say. “Earlier I was sent to pick out some flowers for my family. Along the way, a woman came across my path and robbed me of not only my gown and shoes but my belongings as well. I tried chasing after her but after several minutes my feet became tired and I was lost around the woods with nothing to go by.”

“Your guards found me moments later. They insinuated that I was a whore, and I tried to tell them I wasn’t. That’s when things got violent and I was only trying to defend myself.” She explained transparently.

Aemond redirected his gaze towards the cut on her lower lip, then to her hand noticing some bruising. He recalled how the first guard had a stain of dried blood on his nose right before he killed him.

“Again, I must say how truly sorry I am for the dishonorable actions of my men. And I applaud you for your braveness, my lady.” Aemond said as he raised his goblet before taking a sip.

“Oh, this?” She asked, gesturing to the hand that was bruised. “This is nothing.”

Aemond let out a chortle. “It’s not nothing. You certainly broke his nose and damaged his foot by the looks of it. Who taught you to hit like that?”

“My uncle, Aimon.” She answers. Though unsure if she should reveal details about her family. “Most of us, my cousins and I, are girls. He said it was important that we, as women, learn how to be self resilient and defend ourselves. He taught us with a practice dummy, at first. Then with some padded gloves. ”

Aemond raised his brows, shocked by the notion that a man would allow their nieces to physically fight. His own father never bothered to teach his sister how to train in combat, not that Helaena would’ve wanted to or his mother allowed it. The Dowager Queen detested violence.

It was only ever him that learned to train in combat.

Not by his father, too sickly and yet too worried about Rhaenyra. Only Ser Criston Cole who shared the passion of the sword with him.

“Your uncle seems progressive,” Aemond stated, watching as a sad smile set on her face. “Yea he is.” The reminder of Aimon made her reflect on how much she missed her family right now.

Especially since Aimon was coming home for Dia De Los Muertos, after being stationed in Mexico City for ten years. Alicia and her were the only ones that knew of Aimon’s surprise visit to abuela Selena.

Though, perhaps now the only surprise her abuela was going to get was her disappearance.

“Have I said something to upset you?” Aemond questioned.

Her attention went back to the one eyed prince, who looked at her with concern. “No, no you haven’t. I just… nevermind.” She shook her head as she fiddled with the edges of her goblet.

Aemond leaned forward in his seat, desperately wanting to know what she had to say. “What is it? You can tell me—”

Just as his hand was about to reach hers, a knock interrupted them both. “Prince Aemond, the dessert you requested is almost done. Shall I have it straight delivered to your chambers?” A kitchen maid inquired from the other end of the door.

Aemond made a sound of complete annoyance, causing her to give him a major side eye. “Yes, do so.”

His reply caused her to be taken aback. Did that mean she had to stay longer with him?

She hoped not as there wasn’t enough time for dessert or any of his pleasantries. No matter how hard Aemond procures her to stay. There was a deadline she had to follow and a family and home to go back to.

She knew that by now, her family already contacted the authorities; the police and even the fucking FBI. They’d even call the SWAT team if it were possible.

Maybe she was being a bit too… dramatic. But was she?

There wasn’t anything her family wouldn’t do for her, including searching all of Mexico just to get her back.

Sadly, she was nowhere near Mexico.

Rather she was stuck in a world that up until hours ago, was purely fictional. A work of fiction that she received as a gift.

Her first mistake of coming into this strange world was not thoroughly checking the cottage properly. Perhaps there, she could find some clues and answers that could help identify where this sapphire might be.

So, now was as good a time as any to leave. More hours later and she’d permanently risk staying here forever, just as Alyssandra warned.

As much as she wanted to explore and live through every bit of Westeros, she already missed her home, her family, the food, internet, and comfortable clothes that weren’t medieval dresses.

“Would you care for some more Dornish red as we wait for dessert to be served?” Aemond eventually asked, breaking her out of her stupor.

Go.

“Actually, I can’t,” she nervously chuckled as she stacked her plates and swept leftover crumbs with a napkin. Even universes away she still had the decency to pick up after herself.

Aemond felt his heart drop.

“It’s getting late and I must go. I’ve been gone for hours and my family is probably wondering where I am.” It was not entirely a lie. Her one way ticket out of here was to play her cards right by telling the truth.

“But the dessert—” The one eyed prince tried to explain but was interrupted.

“— can wait or I’ll take it on a to-go box. Do you guys have one of those here?” She knew not but it was worth a try.

Aemond gave her a look of utmost bewilderment. “A what?” A box for a piece of dessert?

She waved him off before she stood up, “it doesn’t matter. Thank you for letting me stay and for everything else you’ve done. I’m grateful, really. But I seriously have to go.”

Aemond found himself standing as well and before either of them knew it, Aemond spun her around so that her back was pressed on rough stone and his chest just inches away from her glorious plump breasts.

“You can’t leave,” Aemond said with a loud growl.

She swallowed, her eyes widening in total disbelief. “What?” In a frail voice she asked.

Aemond had to be gentle with his next choice of words. Last thing he wanted was to scare her off, like how he currently was doing so.

The prince softened the darkness in his eye. “Well,” he sighed, “you’ve said so yourself, it is getting late and I don’t think it is wise for a lady to wander by herself in the woods again. Especially at night and with a mugger on the loose.”

“I’ve caused you enough trouble as it is if I stay.” She stated, distancing herself away from Aemond.

Though the one eyed prince was quick to act as his hand barricaded her point of exit. “You caused me no trouble, I swear this to you. Please stay a little while longer. I’ll send a raven to your family that you reside here with me.” Aemond begged, feigning a demeanor of woefulness.

Although she did slightly feel bad, the deep voice in her head told her to stick to her guts; which was leaving.

“I don’t think so.” She shook her head as she was quick to duck underneath Aemond’s arm towards the door. She felt the light graze of Aemond’s hand reaching for her but she pulled away before he could touch her, causing him to frown.

Aemond yearned to have more time with her; to know every single part of her that made her so intriguing to him. She had haunted his dreams every night for far too long to let her go now. Considering how he had not yet voiced his affections to her. Aemond presumed, now was not the right time to declare his devotion. Time is what he needed.

“Alys, wait!” Aemond called out.

And she was sure as hell did wait.

A/N: sooooo I haven't updated this story for 8 months and for that I'm sorry guys 😩

but for those who are wondering: I live in an abusive household. so that should say enough.

and yes I am trying to get out, but I am currently unemployed.

the next chapter won't take 8 months I promise, but I am writing some smutty one shots for valentines day so I won't update this story until march!

also, if anyone can guess who Vidalio is, I will post a sneak peek of chapter 4!

#prince aemond #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #dark aemond x reader #alternate universe #modern reader

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ctheathy · 11 months ago

Text

The Claim of an Operational Sin

Claude Frollo x Reader

Suggestive Oneshot

Is this damn priest dilf energy or nah

Author's note: Have you ever disliked a villain so much you wanted to hate breed them and make them your bitch? Read this, cuz you can :)

You're one of the few ladies the tyrannical man has taken interest in. Something he'd refer to as being bewitched by those who are innocent. Intrigue driven by his own lustful desires similar to his captivation by the beautiful dancer, Esmeralda. But unlike her, you were certainly not as lucky preventing your imprisonment and attempting to escape the minister's grasp.

Frollo/Reader [Romantic Tendencies(???)]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

!Female Reader! • Seductive/“Succubus” reader • Imprisoned reader • We're basically gonna be assaulting him WOOHOO • Threats • Reader is unfearful of death • Arousal • Teasing, but it's bordering on degradation • Desperation • Drooling/Salivating • Kissing • ...Leaking...iykyk • He's an old man who's never satisfied his primal desires, what did you expect • This entire fic and concept in general is TW worthy tbh-

I REGRET NOTHING ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“...You are a bloody!” Frollo spoke sharply. Taking a deep breath as he looked at you with a bitter gaze. His eyes were cold now, a sour expression on his face. His eyebrows were raised, as if he was trying to control his anger. He was currently in front of you in one of the many dungeon cells underneath the Notre Dame. “... How long do you think you're going to be alive? If you keep acting like this.” He said, sounding almost like he was threatening you.

And despite his subtle warnings, you kept your time in the cell undisturbed, paying no mind to his little hissy fit. To the point it looked like you were straight up ignoring him, which only fueled his already angered state. Demanding you to not even think of not listening to him whenever he spoke. But in all honesty, his constant irritation was just getting you more entertained by the man. It was like watching a child throw a tantrum. Well. You were more than ready to show him that he picked the wrong lady. That your abduction was an easily regrettable decision for him. He was stuck here with you, not the other way around.

Grinning with anticipation, you leaned against the wall with a careless posture. You couldn't care less about what series of threats he had to offer. “Mhmm? Won't that something you should be worrying about as well? Lusting after women and harassing them for centuries can cause for quite the revolution, if I may” you were sneering with sarcasm. “The most recent victim has certainly been influential. Miss Esmeralda, was it? It’s difficult to control yourself, isn’t it~?” you mocked

“... Silence yourself!” He yelled in a half-angry, half-desperately demanding tone, something that noticeably made you laugh out loud. Frollo felt a hit of shame and embarrassment by the fact that you've taken note of him lusting after her. It was a sin ...he wasn't supposed to feel this way. And it was that gypsy who has bewitched him! Tainting his purity with her alluring words and movements. At least, in the minister's head it was, blaming a fairly innocent soul for his own shameful and unholy impulses.

“Many peasants have faced the consequences of the witches’ actions through either custody or death. So choose your words carefully.” trying to warn you and keep you in line, but your reaction would be ...unexpected. “So what? Everybody will die one day.” You glanced back up to the priest and cocked your head to the side. “Perhaps nature shall take its course in the next future for me too. Who knows? Which would be beyond fine with me” you murmured with yet another chuckle, raising an eyebrow. “But atleast now you still have somebody to turn to, wouldn't you say?” He noticed you sending him a wink of mockery, but was too baffled by your sudden statement.

The eyes of the minister widened, as he heard you say that. “You... You don't value your people's freedom. You... You don't care about your own existence." He gritted his teeth. You could practically see his temper exploding. He never understood how somebody could be so unflappable towards the idea of their own very demise. He felt like he had no control over you, which infuriated him greatly. Though you remained in a calm posture, a look of disinterest in your eyes as he felt the need to mention it. “Look," you began with a bit of attitude, unconcerned about how far you might be pushing him over the edge with your next few words.

“Don't treat your lustful motives as superior over what I lack. Eventually, natural selection shall take its course for all of us anyway. And I'll greet it with open arms as soon as the time comes” you half assed with a small smirk. But Frollo? He did not like that one bit, seething with rage as he snapped

“You don't care if nature takes its course, huh!? Well, I will be the one to take its course, if you will not! I am going to give it my best to make you suffer. I shall tear you down with my own hands.”

You took in his words, as your grin slowly started to expand a little the more he went into detail about his description of how exactly he was gonna take your life. You softly chuckled at his threat, hanging your head down as your hair was resting over your eyes, covering them up as you continued to giggle with pure amusement. “Awh..~” you glanced up at the man once again, some of your teeth exposed with your grin as your eyes were smugly half lid. You readjusted your hand as you gently, yet firmly grabbed him by the jawline, placing your thumb right under his chin as you pressed his skin. “It is truly adorable how undeniably obsessed you are with me. Do you clop to the idea of hurting me too?”

You curled up your index finger as it caressed Frollo on his cheek, your little smirk becoming smaller, but still being very visible nonetheless. “I'm quite flattered, my sweet~” your prying eyes were full of glee as you fluttered your lashes, attracting the man even further if that was even possible. You took a step even closer towards him, your chest almost pressed onto him as you got further into his personal space, so inviting...

And oh dear God. Everything you just said... Your smirk, your stance. It didn't take a genius to figure out that you were attempting to seduce him. You were trying to provoke him. And it was working. “H-hngh..!?” Frollo's breathing grew shallow. Every muscle in his body was starting to tighten in exasperation. He was shaking in anger. That's right. He was angry- so unbelievably, extraordinarily angry. But, he was also... Tempted.

And though his body was noticeably still somewhat stiff, you did not miss him beginning to melt into your touch, despite the obvious death stare in his eyes. He was so easily affected and getting worked up by your shenanigans, it was almost cute. Almost. You smirked to yourself as your soft fingers continued to tease his facial features. You were completely leaning into him at this point, both breasts squished onto him as you kept the eye contact with assertion.

Your free hand even wandered over towards the back of his neck, your fingers gently digging into his spine as you rubbed them up and down, but slowly beginning to add more pressure. “You seem to be making yourself comfortable with me quite swiftly, minister...” you stood on your toes to add on height and match his level, “Is that something you enjoy? Making quick development instead of taking things slowly~?” Frollo's heart literally started beating faster. The way you were saying these things. It was so very seductive. And your finger that was caressing him? You... A-Ah...

“H-How dare you!” His tone sounded so frustrated, like he was trying to hide something. Something he wouldn't want you to find out. You could practically see the rage in his eyes, but the way you spoke? And the way you got so close to him, you could practically feel his anger, his resentment, slowly melt away. His head started to turn red, as he gritted his teeth. He really couldn't take it, you had completely caught him in your trap. And you did that so... effortlessly.

It made him feel weak and submissive, a foreign feeling to the priest. You were completely dominating him. Not just physically, but emotionally as well. You made him vulnerable. You got into his... frozen and rock cold heart. You were in control now, and he was just so very powerless to your charms. His entire body was beginning to tremble. His breathing, it was slowly getting quicker and more shallow. It almost felt- the way you touched him, with such delicate care. The way you were teasing him like this. His entire body was starting to feel so hot. He felt the blood surging, pumping him up, preparing him for something he didn't dare to acknowledge.

And being less vigilant, he admitted to his thoughts much more easily. “It... astonishes me... when you... make me lose control” He said, the tone in his voice being a mix of anger and lust. Of desire. Of passion. Words that you hadn't really expected. You'd never guessed for a response like this. It was so sensual. He was clearly losing control now. The way he had just admitted to you that he was enjoying this? It felt as if he was a man on a chain. And you were the one holding it.

This was not supposed to be happening. Not like this. Frollo was... He was tempted. He was extremely tempted. He did not want to be tempted! He did not want to be lured by your feminine allure and your seducing gestures! Why. Why were you seducing him!? He was supposed to kill you, not fall for your antics dammit! He was literally getting flustered now, much to his embarrassment. And the way you pressed your body against his, as if trying to get as close as physically possible? It was really, REALLY making him nervous.

“Don't... you even DARE ...think that I am enjoying this! I... I am simply attempting to ...to” he began to trail off, unable to even think straight. And the more he was trying to desperately deny your claims, the more amused you became with the show. Without warning, you took another step forward and pressed your hips against him... pinning him with one of your thighs. Both of your bodies rubbing on one another as you adjusted your position again. Wanting to see just how hollow his words actually were.

And now he was definitely flustered. And you could tell. His breathing hastened, and he was literally going bright red. Frollo was trembling. And the fact that you could sense just how aroused he was, just made it worse. Because... Your intimate areas were rubbing against his, and there was not a single inch of space between the two of you. “S-Stop... this, you... Y-You witch..!”

His eyes widened as soon as you stepped into him further. You were just getting as intimate as could be. Your thighs and hips were rubbing against him. And it was making him... He was literally drooling now. Frollo was speechless. And he literally was making a mess out of himself. Like... He looked like a fool! One of the most dangerous people in the country, was... drooling... His mouth was open slightly, looking like he was going to say something. But instead, he closed his mouth shut again, and looked almost ashamed. As if he had been caught doing something humiliating.

Your eyes just lit up at the sight while you showed off your teeth with a shit-eating grin, confirming how amused you were by the situation. You tried making yourself even taller than before, as if trying to take away his confidence height-wise as well. You were having this heart-to-heart exchange with him face to face. Your face now literal millimetres away from his, intimidating.

But then you did something that caught him off guard, as you licked off the saliva that was dribbling down his mouth. Your tongue firstly stroking his spit-covered chin before seductively brushing it up to the crook of his mouth where the running drool started. But your tongue quickly wandered to his upper lip, sending a shock right through his veins. Your warm and sweet tongue began teasingly brushing left and right over the entrance of his lips, attempting to pry them open for a good three seconds before pulling back. You glanced at him right in the eye again, a cheeky glint in your eyes. “Aww, you poor man~ He almost spilled..~ Are you actually gonna soil yourself in front of me?” you purred with a tease.

As soon as you started licking the drool off of his lips, He got an electrical shock. A wave of pure nervousness and tingles running down his veins. The blush on his cheeks was getting redder, and you could hear his heartbeat. The saliva that was dropped, got licked up by you. You were staring at him so seductively. A warm, sweet feeling, of just pure ecstasy was flowing through his body.

And the way you were so close to him. You really were an actual princess. Or the queen of sin, rather. He looked like he was about to just collapse. Frollo... His wide eyes were now looking at your lips when you pulled back, and you could see the desire in them. And when you licked the saliva from his lips... He almost- almost let out a moan. He was literally about to melt away.

The priest's entire face flushed a deep, deep red. His blush was... it was so obvious to you, along with the fact that he was salivating at this. But the fact that you licked it off...? You could practically see his entire world begin to break down, right after that. You didn't just break his walls down. You obliterated them. He didn't know what to say. You were just... Ah, God. so, so cruel.

The way you did just that. The way you licked it. It was... Oh, heavens. You would be an absolute demon in bed. He blinked, shaking his head and basically still drooling all over himself. Damn it. What in the world.

“You... You b-bitc-... Yo-... wh-” He couldn't get a word out. He was too stunned. All of the blood in his body seemed to be rushing down to his cheeks at once. And he could feel a warm liquid start to soak into his undergarments. Yes. That thing, the thing that he desperately didn't want to get hard. He clenched his jaws shut, as he started to sweat. He didn't know how to react or respond. You were playing with him at this point. You could practically see the steam rising off of his head. And he could feel the liquid seeping into his cloth.

This whole situation was just mortifying to Frollo, both for his reputation and pride. He tried to take a step back, but he was getting too caught up in his own... reaction, to realize he had his back pressed against the wall in here. He could feel his breathing getting heavier. And just his reaction of shock was more than enough to keep you going, as your hand clung to the back of his neck, your fingertips digging into his flesh again. “I can’t help but wonder what other places are getting hot and moist for me” you purred with a mischievous chuckle, leaning in close to his face once again.

“I recommend you stay in line” you murmured with a sense of warning as you took his bottom lip between your teeth, the tip of your canine pressing into it. Your hot and damp tongue came in contact with it as you pressed it against his parted lips, teasingly tracing it against the entrance of his lips but never actually going inside his mouth... Smearing your saliva over the base of his lips, while you seductively sucked his bottom lip, just watching how long he could keep it up before losing his sense of self control

His body was quaking. His frame was like a leaf in the wind. He was being absolutely manhandled. The way you nibbled his lip, you were making his legs go weak. There were no words. There were just... sounds. Sounds coming from his throat, as the heat and moisture inside him really began to build up. The way you continued to use your tongue. The way you continued to play with his lip like a cat with a ball of yarn. It felt like this was never going to end. And he... his moans. You could hear his voice. Those soft moans, that were only for you to hear. He was losing focus, and he did not care. His body getting wet. And it was all your fault. You were doing this to him. You were teasing him, playing with him like a puppeteer.

His lips were now opening up for you. His mouth inviting. Something which made your eyes darken with glee as you got the ultimate invitation from him. Not hesitating for any second thoughts. Your tongue slowly wandered in and began brushing against his inner lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of having your tongue deep into the back of his mouth. You pressed it in further, going slightly deeper as you rubbed your tongue against his gum tissue. Before reaching the inferior labial frenulum, as you teasingly slid your tongue over it. And that... that was an especially loud moan, coming from a person like Frollo, who's usually calculated and reserved. Reserved on that level, as it was clear he was enjoying this right now.

He was being completely seduced and he didn't care. His vocal groans were beginning to fill the room. The way your tongue was exploring his mouth... It was sending shivers down his spine. His eyes widening as he felt himself start to become damp. Your hand, wrapped around the back of his neck with your fingers pressing into his flesh. He liked how you were being so rough and so dominating at the moment. But your comment, about his other... moistened areas. He felt a hot liquid rushing through his body as he thought about it, as if he was being cooked alive.

He was just completely, utterly, and miserably lost in you. His eyes were staring at yours, with that warm glaze of lustful desire. And he was letting his inner demons play with his soul. They weren't being suppressed anymore. They were getting out, completely free. He was struggling to keep himself from just giving into you. He was almost tempted to just... get on the bed, and invite you on top of him. His lips were now completely split apart. His mouth was inviting you to go in deeper. To do whatever you pleased. The tip of his tongue was inviting you. And you could practically taste his wet tongue. His breath was starting to falter. The way you rubbed against his gums, the movement was so perfect and experienced. Frollo's entire body felt hot and wet. And it was making him want more. So much more.....

You could definitely tell he was getting desperate. His tongue eagerly and impatiently begging for it to intertwine with yours. He wanted your tongue at the back of his throat... And feeling eager, he desperately began to lick at you, desperate to taste you. And wanting to feed into that desperation, you began moving your tongue up and down, making the tip of his tongue rub over yours. Right before your tongue began wandering, slipping it flat on top of his. You slowly began pressing your tongue to the back of his throat, using his tongue as a guide as you slid it down to his tonsils, rubbing them. Sometimes pulling back for just a few seconds before teasingly sliding it down again, keeping him needy for more.

He was practically begging for it by now. His mouth was literally begging for your tongue to get deeper. But you were just teasing him so hard, and that's what was making this so hot. The way your tongue was moving, it was like a damn tongue dance. And you were playing the damn instrument that was his mouth perfectly. Teasing his tongue, nibbing at it and just being absolutely filthy with him. His mouth was just yours now.

You were literally eating him, was the only thing Frollo could think. He couldn't help but groan out as soon as your tongue went deeper inside his mouth, sliding alongside his own tongue. Your warm, wet tongue was rubbing against the sensitive skin in there, and you were teasing his mouth. You were making him melt. You were... making him weak. His neck and back started to arch involuntarily. The way you slid it down his throat as it touched his tonsils... The priest's body was starting to jerk. His eyes went blank, as he let out moans and gasps. It felt like you were controlling his mind and body, and that only made him feel even more desperate and in need of you.

Frollo was in a trance, practically. You were just so tempting. So delicious. His voice was turning into pure moans as he opened his mouth, letting out the sound of a beg. It was as if he was trying to say he wanted it. That this was what he wanted. His jaw was opened, his hands were hanging limp besides his body, behaving so submissively. The minister, who had been feared by everybody around him, was just completely done for.

You pulled back for a bit, as he moaned out in relief. A string of saliva now connecting your tongue with his mouth. “Don't go rabid on me now. You've been wanting this for a long, long time, hmm?” you teased him as one of your hands travelled towards his chin, before you started pressing your thumb into his mouth. You pressed your finger on his tongue, sliding it further to the back of his throat, threatening to make him gag if he disobeyed and forcing his jaw open even further. “Be a big boy and open up wide for me..~” you purred with a sadistic giggle, tempting him by sticking out your tongue.

There was no way out of this. His expression now completely rearranged from frustrated, to a look which was flaring with excitement. He was literally sweating. In one move, you had basically turned him from an egotistical man, into your own personal toy at your disposal. You owned him. Even when he got some of his control back when you moved your mouth away from him, he didn't wanna stop what you were doing. He was just hopelessly addicted to you, His brain was you. Nothing BUT you.

“You're playing under my rules now, minister.”

And he was just another piece of your collection to satisfy your needs.

#disney #disney x reader #disney villains #disney villains x reader #claude frollo #frollo #claude frollo x reader #frollo x reader #disney imagines #disney smut #the hunchback of notre dame #the hunchback of notre dame x reader

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yaut-jaknowit · 3 months ago

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Predator x a former Weyland-Yutani researcher who does NOT want their children anywhere near a xenomorph at any point in time/is not so hot onnthe whole "hunting the most dangerous game" thing in general.

Monsters Under The Bed

Character: Woftik (male Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 2077

Summary: On the north end of the planet, the cold weather is brutal. Only the strong survive. One of your children is nearing their chiva. The blooding ceremony where she could die. You didn't want her to go. She's still your baby to you. Still so small like the day she was born. But Woftik is the leader of the tribe. This must be done.

Author Note: This thought process for many of those who have children with Yautjas is probably high. Humans aren't used to such a thing. Sometimes it works in their favor, but others... not so much.

Masterlist

Ao3

“I will not allow our child to be slaughter by those, by those monsters!” you screamed off at the top of your head. Tears streamed down your sticky cheeks. A finger was shoved into Woftik’s chest, not even making the Yautja sway. “It’s one thing for you to go out there and hunt but it’s another to send our child to their deaths!”

Out of all the things he could’ve said today, you weren’t expecting him to state it’s time for your daughter to become a newly blooded. Woftik had been training her since she could walk how to hunt. Hunting normal things for food or necessity. Not going off to fight an eight-legged creature who only comes out at certain times in a year. This thing lives in caves. Caves. Limited space to fight. The beast was around twenty feet tall, scary beyond belief, and – oh, could kill your daughter! How did he not understand this?!

Woftik let you yell at him, let you take your anger out at him. An angry partner was bad. But he knew better from experience not to feed into the energy. After some time, you’ll wear yourself out eventually.

The nonreaction from him only pissed you off more. It gave you the wrong signals. As if, he didn’t care about you or your feelings or your daughter. Your fists trembled at your sides. You were red in the face, hot headed and all. “You don’t care?! You don’t care she could die because it’s part of your culture to send your children to death. But, I will not stand for this.” You put down your foot firmly and jabbed your finger into his chest again.

Only a brow lifted to acknowledge the jab. “Woftik, you will not send Vo to her death. I will not stand for this. I don’t care if its part of your culture.” With your past experience with Weyland-Yutani, you knew some of their culture and history. Dangerous. Death. That’s the foundations that you saw. Kill or be killed in their line of work.

Why in all the years did you decide to free this asshole and allow him to take you away from earth. You will never know what you were thinking back then. Young and stupid. Here comes this big, burly, monster who sweeps you off your feet and saves you after saving him. How idiotic you were. Cause now look at the trouble that’s put you in.

After all the yelling, releasing the pent up anger, the energy left your body. You panted, shoulders heaving while glaring up at the giant off white Yautja in front of you. His stance or features hadn’t even changed once since the start of the argument. You wanted to get angry all over again but saw no point. If he won’t budge, what’s the point to try again?

“Woftik,” you soft call his name. The glare on your face turning into a pleading expression. “Please.”

One of his upper mandibles twitched. “Sweetheart.” Woftik cupped your hot face in his hands and drew you in closer. “This is for her. She has trained since the moment she could stand. She must take this step in her life to continue to live within our tribe. Or else she’ll be forced out.” His thumbs rubbed at both the wet and dry tears stuck to your cheeks. “This is for her own good. Even our own daughter has to face the same challenges as any other Yautja.”

Your heart broke into a million pieces. Tears fell more constantly. You shook your head in his hands, trying to deny his words. “Woftik, please. Don’t do this. Don’t send her out there. She’ll die. She’s… she’s not like you. She’s human too.” As much as you hate to use your species in a demeaning way to yourself, if it helped. So be it.

A hybrid. A surprise you didn’t think was scientifically possible. Two different species, different DNA, different chromosomes. It shouldn’t be logical. But, here was your daughter, Vo-tok. She was living proof.

His mandibles drew up into his mouth. “And that will be her advantage to this. I believe in her skill and my skill. Remember, I taught her everything she knows. Do you trust me?” he asked, softening his voice and drawing your full attention to him.

The lump in your throat was hard to swallow down. Your gaze slipped down to the ground. Anywhere besides his dark brown eyes that could see into your very soul. His hands on your cheeks tilted your head up even more to find the thing you tried to hide from.

“Do you trust me?” By his god, you did. A lot. It was your human nature to fret about your daughter though. He’s trained. Cleanly. You’ve seen him in action when he had to take down the base he had been locked up in. No human could stand in his path and live. All except yourself. That was because you had saved his life. The code all respected Yautjas follow to a T. He had been forced by said code to take you back with him, despite his want to slaughter you. Except, you had freed him from his bonds and gave him a chance to escape.

Pain was evident in your eyes. “Woftik,” you whined his name. The Yautja tightened his hold, silently demanding an answer from you. A sigh left you, eyes shutting softly with a wince. “You know I do.”

Despite your anger, your rage on the male, there wasn’t a doubt you trusted him. You had to in this line of work. Without him, being in the cold, freezing North Pole, you would’ve perished long ago.

Woftik released a deep rumble that sounded similar to a purr. His face grew close to nuzzle his temple to yours. “Then, trust my training. I’ve taught plenty before. Not all have returned from the hunt. I won’t lie to you. Her chances are greater than any other trainer,” he explained and pulled away. Your eyes fluttered open to find his nearly black eyes looking deep into yours.

“How can you expect from me to do this? I can’t. I can’t just turn a blind eye and let our daughter near such a thing. Why can’t she just hunt something normal? Like those deer-like creatures you bring home every once in a while,” you tried to reason with him one more time. Anything to get him to break. “This is our daughter we’re talking about.”

His eyes hardened for a moment. “And all of my children have gone through similar training either by me or their mother. They’ve endured the hunt. Not all have survived. It’s their final test to become a hunter. Vo-tok is half ooman but that may be an advantage to her.” How could he possibly think such a thing? Compared to his kind, Yautjas are weak, fragile. Plenty of other Yautjas have told you so despite who is your mate and what your position is in their clan.

From the determination in his eyes and voice, there was no way to win this verbal battle with him. As much as you hated it, his word was law. He led his clan with a mighty fist and ensured their survival through the harshest of months. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t take your word or listen to you. He’s often done that. But, this was one thing he won’t budge on.

And that made you feel a hurricane of feelings for him.

You turned your head away, pulling away from his touch. “When does this ‘hunt’ begin?” you asked in a defeated tone, faced tucked to the side.

Woftik sighed and squared his shoulders. “Three days, at dusk. The beast only comes out at night.” Your heart clenched at the thought of your daughter fighting at night. This couldn’t get worse. You flinched and hugged yourself, trying to fight off the new wave of tears again.

Your shoulders were bunched. You forced yourself to take a few steps away from him. “Okay,” you softly said then turned around and walked away from him. Distance was needed. Space and time. You had to go spend time with your daughter. Before everything may change before your eyes.

Worst of all. You had three other children with him. Woftik was sentencing all of them to their deaths. And there’s nothing you could do to stop it. All he expected from you was to trust the training he puts all four of them through. But Woftik is… Woftik. He could handle himself. You’ve seen it personally, up front and personal. But this, this is completely different. Your children. This is your children you were talking about.

The eldest of your children wasn’t even home. She was out, training with another group of young bloods nearing their blooding ceremony. And none of their parents were objecting this. It was part of their culture. A hard pill to swallow for an outsider who wanted to protect your children from the monsters.

The others were in the playroom that branched off of from the common room. You walked through said space to find all of your little ones huddled together, eyes wide. Their whispering stopped immediately at your approach.

Unease had settled in their dark eyes. Your heart broke all the more at the sight. Instantly, you knelt before them, brows furrowed up. “Oh, babies,” you cooed to them in a soft, gentle tone.

None of them were babies anymore. The second oldest, Ma’ril, was thirteen in Yautja years, nearing his own blooding as well. Then, you had Tink-on. She was twelve. Lastly, was Veir. He was nine. The youngest in your family. Yet, all of them knew the basics at least of hunting. Each progressing in different weapons that suited them best. Woftik ensuring to hit every style to find what fits them. He was so careful about their training. That at first, you weren’t fretting about their upcoming hunts. Until the day comes.

It was closing in fast.

“You heard us yelling, didn’t you?” you asked, disappointed in yourself. This is one of your worst fears.

Veir nodded his head silently and looked at you from underneath his brows. You flinched as if he had struck you. It was one thing to shout at your partner but another to have your children hear it.

“Oh, babies, I’m so sorry. We were disagreeing on something. I’m… I’m just scared for your older sister. I can’t help it. It’s part of being human.” Something they were burdened with. The emotions of a human and the talents and skills of a Yautja. Two ideas that don’t mix well. “But, we came to an agreement. There’s nothing to worry about now.”

They all looked at each other before returning their eyes to you. Timidly, you opened your arms and waited with bated breath. One after another, Ma’ril, Veir, and Tink-on piled in on each other. All of them snugging you into a hug.

“You know I love you with all of my heart, right?” A question you couldn’t but ask in the aftermath. Each one nodded and voiced that they knew. “Good. Good. I’m very glad. I love you guys so much. You’re my world.”

And they were. They were your lifeline. Woftik was part of that as well. Pieces to the puzzle that made up your life. A life you didn’t want to see break up if a piece goes missing. You had to hold back the tears desperate to fall. The idea hurting more than you thought.

You felt the eyes before hearing the soft steps of Woftik. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the hulking, white giant stalk into the room quiet as ever. He moved with ease and lowered himself to his knees at your side. Your gave him a tight lipped smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. The pain was too fresh in your heart to forgive him just yet.

“They heard us,” you explained in soft voice that only he could hear. The off-white Yautja hummed and scooted closer, showering the four of you with his warmth. His muscular arms came around and encircled all of you. You leaned into him, taking the embrace to quell the pounding of your heart.

Nothing needed to be said about your family. Mismatched, imperfect as it was, you loved it more than anything.

#predator #yautja #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #predator x reader #predator x you #yautja x human #predator x human #x reader #Woftik #Woftik x Reader #Woftik x human

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mirrology · 8 months ago

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Can I ask a boothill with an adopted child/teen reader that's hps (hyper sensitive) and also has parental trauma

(You don't have to do this if you feel uncomfortable 🐧)

ノstar .ᐟ ʚɞ

୨୧ No matter that love's gone, We just see it shining. We've traveled very far, I'll keep a leftover light burning. So you can keep looking up, Isn't that worth holding on? — star, mitski.

boothill & gender neutral reader. platonic | wc: 1.6k

tags/warnings: decided to go with hc's for this one since I didn't know how to write it in fic format T_T. teen reader, reader is a galaxy ranger and really well versed in technology. they can fight pretty well, reader also hates the ipc. boothill is a bad influence. mentioned child abuse, child neglect, reader has a "mom" and acts a little like blade when near her, erm character death (not reader or boothill)

notes: aaaa sorry that this is so late! Hopefully, this is what you meant by "hypersensitive." If not, then just let me know, and I'll change it, ALSO HAPPY PRIDE MONTH

— The two of you met when you were beating up some IPC goons on a planet that they had recently wanted to take over. You had been there gathering materials to set sail to your next destination, you were on the hunt for a certain IPC employee. One who you once knew.

— You couldn't just stand back and watch those IPC scum send that planet into spiraling chaos. So, of course, you beat them up without breaking a sweat. That's where Boothill had found you, he was impressed that someone so young had such skill in combat.

↳ You huffed as the remaining IPC personnel ran away with their tails between their legs. A slow sound of applause came from behind you, causing you to turn around, a deadpan evident on your face. You were met with a man with dual colored hair and what seemed to be a metal body, “I'm not gonna lie, you've got skills, kid.” He had said, a smirk on his face.

— Once the both of you got to talking, he found out you were also a galaxy ranger and that you also absolutely hated the IPC, you both really had many things in common. You had asked him for help in getting to your destination and he agreed pretty easily, claiming that he had “some time to spare”

— Although you had spent little time together, you felt comfortable around him, he never pushed your boundaries or forced you to do things you didn't want to. Boothill’s vocabulary surprised you, instead of cursing normally his words were censored. You would have offered to try to fix his synesthesia beacon, but just the thought of touching someone made your skin crawl. The ghostly touches of people who you once considered family etched onto your skin.

— Once it came to part ways, you didn't want to do so. You shyly admitted to Boothill that the thought of not seeing him scared you a tad bit. He looked surprised but then gave you a bright smile and told you that you could join him on his adventures, and so a strong bond between the both of you was born.

— When Boothill infiltrated the IPC headquarters you're the one who hacked into their system. With your experience, it was relatively easy, although Boothill would not let you go inside with him. He couldn't risk putting you in danger, even though he knows you can put up a fight.

— When the both of you escaped the headquarters after causing absolute chaos, Boothill brought his hand up to your head as he tried to ruffle your hair. He was surprised and slightly hurt when you tensed up and quickly moved out of the way.

— Boothill thought he had made you scared of him somehow, even though you had no reason to be afraid. You noticed his downcast expression and you quickly told him that he did nothing wrong, it was just…

↳ Your heart pounded in your chest, your hands were sweating. You reached up and gripped a strand of your hair in your hand as a sheepish expression painted your face. “I'm not the best with physical touch,” You blurted out, albeit bluntly. “Whenever someone touches me — even if it's just a brush of their fingers, it feels like needles are being stuck into my skin” You huffed, clenching your fist and your eyes downcast. Boothill's expression softened, his once frown lifting into an understanding smile. “Thanks for telling me, bud.” He nodded, his fingers twitching at his side, as if wanting to reach out to you. Yet he respected your space and refrained from doing so.

— Now that Boothill knew about your hypersensitivity he made no attempts to touch you, preferring to give you gifts instead. Whenever you do something that makes him proud as a father would a child; he takes you out to get your favorite food as a treat. Of course verbal encouragement is also a thing he does, giving you a “I'm proud of ya’ kid!” and a pointy grin.

— It's canon Boothill is pretty wealthy from all of those bounties that he hunts and he doesn't exactly know what to do with it. So he definitely spoils you at every chance he gets. Want a nice Keychain you saw in a shop? He's handing it to you right now. How about a nice piece of clothing or a cultural food from the planet that you're visiting? He's got the clothing in a bag and is urging you to try the food.

— Even though you both have your moments of happiness, the both of you still have purposes you stick to. You had gotten a lead on where that person was and you were going to do everything to catch up to them and make them get what they deserved.

↳ “You.” You hissed walking towards the woman in an IPC uniform, kicking another unconscious employee away. You gripped your weapon tightly in your hand, the woman widened her eyes in terror at your sudden appearance, she fell on her bottom, scooting away from you as you approached her. As she backed away she didn't go far, her back hitting a wall not too long after. Your unhurried footsteps resonated through her ears, making her breath pick up as she clutched the dirt underneath her in an attempt to ground herself.

You stopped in front of her, eyes full of unbridled anger. “(N-name)?!” She squeaked, putting a hand out infront of her to reach out to you. “What are.. how are you-” She was cut off as the back of your weapon slapped her intruding hand away. “You don't get to say my name.” You glared at her, your tone icy cold and unforgiving. She tried to speak once more but was once again cut off, “You left me to die! If it wasn't for my quick thinking, I would have been dead by now!” You said in a firm tone and pointed your weapon straight at her, leaving her no room to move or else you would attack.

The woman tensed up and a bead of sweat ran down the side of her cheek, “Honey… I had no choice! You would only weigh me down, you have to understand!” She had the gall to call you “honey” this woman no longer had the honor of doing so. The words stung, even though you no longer felt any affection for her… they brought back memories that you would rather forget. You clenched your teeth and watched as she rambled on and on about how “it was for your own good” and that “you should try to understand her situation” before she would get another word out, you sound your weapon, officially slicing her throat.

The blood splattered onto your stoic face, you watch as she choked on her own blood, eyes wide and filled with panic as if her life was flashing before her eyes… you hope it hurts.

A set of footsteps came from behind you, judging by the jingling of metal and their heavy footsteps you could tell who it was. You reluctantly turned around to meet Boothill's concerned gaze, “Er.. ya’ okay kiddo?” He scratched the side of his face as he pointed out the tears that prickled at the corner of your eyes. You stared at the ground and slowly nodded “I don't entirely hate her, but she didn't deserve to know that… even in her last moment” You muttered as more salty tears filled your vision.

— You and Boothill headed back to your ship, all while you were still occasionally shedding tears. Boothill, seeing the state you were in, offered you a warm, fluffy blanket and a warm drink; hot chocolate.

↳ You sniffled and held the blanket that was over your shoulders to your chest. You were sat on a cushion on the floor of yours and Boothill’s ship, knees tucked towards your chest in an attempt to stop yourself from crying. “Heya kiddo, I got ya’ some hot chocolate…” Boohill plopped down next to you on a matching cushion and held out the mug that was in his robotic hand. His hand was placed below the mug so when you reached to get it, you both wouldn't accidentally brush fingers.

The both of you sat in a pregnant silence and you occasionally sipping on the warm drink provided to you. Boothill stared at you from the corner of his eye, your gaze was focused on the window, giving you the view of the vast space. “She was my mother, you know” You suddenly broke the silence with your blunt words, Boothill’s eyes widened a significant amount, yet you continued.

“Even though she claimed to love me, her actions hurt and her words even more.” You put your mug down beside you and snuggled further into the blanket. The cyborg's face softened into something different, almost sad, distraught. His teeth clenched in anger at the thought of you being hurt by that woman, something ugly bloomed in his mechanical chest.

“But now she's gone,” Boothill started, making you turn your head to look at him with a surprised expression. “She can't hurt you anymore nor anyone, not when I'm around” He grinned, his shark-like teeth out on display. Something in your chest felt warm, it was different but not unpleasant. You offered Boothill a small smile then took a deep breath and raised your pinky up, “Pinky promise?” your voice a bit shaky, but your eyes were filled with determination.

Boothill slowly brought his pinky up, gently intertwining it with yours. They were barely touching but it was progress, “Promise.” The cyborg nodded firmly.

Tears pricked at you eyes, not in sadness nor anger, but relief.

“Thank you.”

#honkai star rail #platonic relationships #reader insert #x reader #gender neutral reader #hsr platonic #hsr x reader #hsr x reader platonic #hsr #boothill honkai star rail #boothill x reader #boothill hsr #platonic hsr #platonic hsr x reader #boothill x y/n #platonic boothill #honkai star rail x reader

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xan-izme · 2 years ago

Text

Crybaby (Sully fam X daughter!reader)

Summary: Reader has always been a crybaby. Sensitive and had a soft spot for all living life. Jake disliked how sensitive you always were, he sent you out on your own for a month and came back a cold-blooded killer.

Warnings: Death, gore, mentions of death, mentally unstable reader, violence, Trauma

You were kind, sweet. Always looked on the bright side, you were on the same path as Kiri, training to become Tsahik. But it was clear you weren't as good as Kiri, which you were quick to admit.

That lead to Jake placing you with your brothers, training to become warriors. He wanted to tough you up, Jake loves how much you cherished love, he loved seeing the world through your optimistic eyes.

But ever since the sky people came back, he just needed his eldest daughter to be strong. Be there just in case he would leave this world a little too early.

"How many times do I have to tell you? Y/n, I need you to keep your balance! keep tripping like that you'll get killed." Jake's words hurt you, but you remember how upset he was the last time you nearly cried.

You inhaled sharply "Yes father." You stood up from the ground and faced your twin, Neteyam. He gave you a knowing look that wanted to know if they should stop, you shook your head lightly, not wanting to seem more of a wimp to your father then you already are.

You were an average hunter, your skills in fighting weren't that bad either.

But that wasn't enough for Jake. He needed to know that you were as skilled as Neteyam, as skilled as your mother was. So, it was always.

"Be faster"

"Hit stronger"

"Not good enough, try again!"

You would push your limit. Till you couldn't keep your eyes open. Your father would say words of gratitude here and there. Like small nods and a "Good work"

Your brothers sometimes feel like that's not enough for how much he makes you do. But just the smallest amount of approval from Jake made you feel like you were on cloud nine, causing you to do more, work harder.

Then one day, you were having a hard week, you were getting frustrated at the simplest things. Even your fathers nagging was annoying you.

When it came to training, you slipped up and made multiple mistakes that Jake just could not take it.

"Y/n, come now." Jake spoke calmly. You and your twin glanced at each other. You stood up with the help of Neteyam and followed your father.

The two of you walked through the woods.

"Baby, you know why I push you and your siblings so much, right?"

You nod your head, feeling a little nervous even if Jake was using his usual soft tone. "Then you understand--" Jake held you by your shoulders "--That this family, this clan is our fortress. And protecting this family is everything"

His words were deep to you, it was clear this was important to him. "And I need you to be strong. And training here hasn't been helping. So, Im sending you off. Away from here, so you can improve more on your own" Jake saw how your expression dropped "don't worry! It'll only be for a month. Ill check in every few weeks." He tried to reassure you. It didn't really calm your nerves down, but seeing how desperate he was to make sure you and the family was safe?

there was no way you could say no.

So, you left, you were on your own. The first few days were hard. And there were multiple times when you got seriously hurt and cried. God, you cried so much. All that crying made you hate yourself.

Hate every flaw you had. You even hated the soft part of you. Scolding yourself, knowing that kindness and your crying will not protect the clan, your family.

Jake did try to visit you. But you never stayed in one place. The two of you talked a little over the inner coms when you two would be miles apart. But those convocations didn't last.

You were training harder than ever. Perfecting every little thing down to the bone. In all honesty, you did go a little off from the safe zone, where you ran into a few sky people. You made it our alive, as for those sky people?

Well, you only let one live, still having that small kindness and mercy in you. Which was a big mistake.

You received a message from Norm and Max when they wanted to check on you, that a sky person bombed up a small part of the safe zone close to the high camp. No one was killed, but a lot were majorly injured.

Gaining all the details of the incident, you realize that it was the sky person you let live.

Cursing yourself and beating yourself for being so foolish, so naive for thinking nothing of what that sky demon after setting it free. So, you vowed to not give your enemy's any type of mercy, to kill all those evil demons, to protect you clan, your family.

Because this family was your fortress. And you were determined to be theirs.

Your month was over, and you were just so excited to go home. To hug and smother your siblings with kisses. To show your dear parents how strong and skilled you've become. To make your father proud of you. To officially be seen as enough to help protect everyone.

Norm gave you an inner com that was connected to your family, being told that your parents and dear twin brother were on patrol at the moment.

You decided to fly your Ikran to where you were told you parents and twin would be at. But when you were a few clicks away from them, you heard Lo'ak's voice. Saying he has gained sight of intruders. Ones who were carrying guns.

Dreamwalkers

You spoke into your inner coms.

"I'm closest to their location. I'll engage."

"Y/n-- wait, no! Y/n you better not!" Jake shouted.

"Y/n te i'tri Mo'ata Sully. Stay down! that's an--"

You turned your intercoms off. The safety of your baby siblings was the only thing you had in mind. It was almost eclipse, and telling by how the winds picks up and the clouds, it was to rain soon.

Your Ikran felt the panic and determination you were feeling and speed up to get to the location faster.

You made it before your parents and twin could. You killed off every single dreamwalker. And that demon who took your mother's home away, who took Kiri's mother away.

The demon who caused so much harm to your clan.

"Any last words Demon?" you say, tilting your head as you held the sharp dagger to Quritche's throat. The Demon growled and spat in your face.

You weren't very pleased with that; you turned your head towards your siblings who were huddled against a tree.

"Spider"

The small human boy flinched by the way your voice sounded.

"Close your eyes." You said with a small fond smile. But it felt nothing like that. Kiri quickly brought Spider close to her and covered his eyes.

You looked back at Quaritche. The moment you slit his throat and began to detach his head from his body, was the moment Jake and Neytiri entered the scene.

Neytiri was quick to go by her younger children's side. Your ears perk and notice Jake. Once you laid eyes on him. Your face lit up.

"Father!" Youran to him and hugged him. Jake was in utter shock at the scene in front of him. He slowly hugged you tight. You pulled away, smiling, unphased by the amount of blood that was on you.

"I did it. I saved them. Look!" you pulled Jake to where Quaritche's dead body was and grabbed the head of the demon.

"I have killed him. I did it!"

Neteyam slowly entered and looked over what you had done.

"Mommy!" Tuk whined and was quickly embraced by Neytiri.

You were smiling, happy that you've finally rid your father of the nightmare that had burdened your family.

But when you began to see the look Jake had. You started to notice that was not the look of approval you hoped for.

"Y/n . . .What have you done?"

Your smile dropped, being replaced with confution

"Wha-. . .what? what's wrong? what did I do wrong!?" You didn't understand. Did you not put them down fast enough? Should you have taken out the leader before the others? What was it that was wrong??

"Y/n, baby. This--" He was pointing out to the bloody battle around them "--Is wrong. You tampered with their body's. Some of them are still bleeding out!"

"N-no! it's okay you see! I made it for them to not move at all and suffer their punishment." You tried to defend yourself. Tried to make your dear father know that it was okay. And that you did a good job.

Neytiri hurried the children to exit this part of the forest fast, including Spider. Neytiri didn't like Spider, but the boy didn't deserve to see all of this. None of her children did.

"That is not our way!" Jake yelled. Frustrated, worried and scared for his daughter in front of them.

Your ears pinned back. Feelings of sadness, betrayal and anger infecting your heart.

"Well, your way didn't work for me. You said so yourself! Why can't you just be happy!?" Your nose scrunched up in anger.

"I did this for the clan, for our family-- For you!" You were getting upset. All you wanted was the feeling of being called a Sully, worthy of the tittle as Toruk Makto's daughter.

"You can't do this. Your way will bring unbalance to the clan. And if you can't do that. . . then I'll have to strip your tittle as a warrior of this clan." Jake's words caused everyone to stop.

"Ma jake." Neytiri spoke, her eyes glancing between her mate and child.

You felt your bottom lip quivering. But your eyes refused to release the tears. You slowly backed away from Jake, nodding your head a little. Your eyes found its way to Spider who kept tripping, his legs still shaking from what he witnessed.

"Spider." You spoke up. The boy forced himself to look at you.

"Keep tripping like that. . . . . and you'll get killed."

#jake sully #neytiri #neteyam #lo'ak x sister!reader #jake sully x daughter reader #kiri avatar #spider #tuktirey #na'vi x reader #death mention tw #animal death

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littlejuicebox · 1 year ago

Note

GINAAA MY GIRL!

Sending you a dadstarion prompt because you already know I LOVEEE your dadstarion content.

How did Tav find out she was pregnant with baby Gale? And how did Astarion react to the news?! Inquiring minds want to know.

To have and to hold.

Such a lovely prompt, my friend! Hope you like it!

Summary: Astarion turned mortal a few months ago, and this is his first-time experiencing illness of any kind. Unfortunately, as soon as he recovers, you start to show signs of sickness as well. Your condition is a bit different from his, though. (For more of this series check out the ‘Dadstarion’ section of my master list.)

Tags/Warnings: Dadstarion, domestic af, fluff, talk of illness, talk of vomiting, the mildest of angst with the mostest of comfort, pregnancy, etc.

A/N: I work in healthcare, not law, so I can’t guarantee the legalese is accurate lol.

Word count: 2.3K

-----

“Don’t come closer, darling, I’m disgusting.” Astarion groans from where you find him one morning, curled up on the bathroom floor.

It had been a few months since Gale of Waterdeep cast Wish, and from that moment until now the retired rogue had been a happy, healthy mortal. There were so many benefits to curing his vampirism that the elf never fully considered one of the major downsides… illness.

He’d never experienced a malady like this in his life. At least not in the one he could remember.

It’s horrible.

How had his little love or any of his friends endured this, more than once, in the past ten years?

Astarion is quite certain he contracted food poisoning from that questionable slab of salmon he ate at the Blushing Mermaid yesterday evening. He never did understand why you liked eating at that lowbrow tavern in the first place.

You crouch to examine your husband, pressing a soothing hand onto his forehead before running it down to cup his cheek.

“Astarion, my love, you have a fever.” You murmur, frowning with concern as you push sweaty curls from his face.

“Please make more obvious observations, dear,” Astarion gripes as he forces himself to sit up, still clutching his stomach. Gods, the vile churning in his gut is incessant.

He’s about to continue on with his quip, but the sudden urge to be sick forces the elf to shut up and scramble to the toilet. You hear the sounds of violent retching moments later.

“We are never going back to the Blushing Mermaid,” Astarion grumbles once the wave of illness subsides. His face is pressed against the toilet; all sense of decorum is gone. The rotten fish poisoning his insides won over any bits of pride he might have been clinging to.

You move to grab a wash rag, dampening it under the tap before kneeling back down by your husband.

“Poor thing,” You coo, folding the cloth in half before dabbing it against the back of Astarion’s neck, hoping to ease the fever.

The elf’s eyes flutter closed as he allows you to fawn over him for a moment. And then he groans and flicks his hand, palm faced downward, as if trying to shoo you away. His voice is hoarse when he says, “Just leave me here and go get ready for your meeting, darling. I’ll be fine.”

“In sickness and in health, remember?” You ask, running the cool cloth over Astarion’s face, causing him to sigh thankfully at the slight relief, “I��ll send word to the other Counsellors to inform them that I won’t be attending. You’ve never been ill before; I don’t want to leave you like this. Wyll can fill me in later.”

“Yes, ‘in sickness and in health’ and all that, darling, but those vows also included ‘until death do us part’ and I was an immortal vampire when we made them. So you were technically entering that verbal contract under false pretenses, which one could argue means it’s null and void. Go to the meeting, it’s—“

Astarion almost manages to finish his rambling legalese before more putrid liquid spews out of his mouth. When he’s finished vomiting, he whines again, any bit of stubborn resilience and feeble attempts at selflessness abandoned.

“On second thought, maybe you should stay here,” He says, his chest heaving with exertion as he clenches his eyes shut, “Please tell me you have a spell for this.”

“Unfortunately not, my love. I only have a spell for curses. Best I can do is half a bottle of Elixir of Health, some ginger-peppermint tea, and a bath.” You sigh, already crossing the bathroom on your way to the tub. You fiddle with the taps for a moment to start the bath and then begin to pour oils into the flowing water.

“Deal,” Your husband mutters, peeling off his sweat-soaked night shirt, “But none of that vile honey you got at the market here in town for my tea; I want the one Shadowheart and Lae’zel sent from Neverwinter.”

“Anything you say, Lord Ancunin.” You joke, rolling your eyes at your husband’s fussiness. He’d barely regained his sense of taste a few months ago and already favored upscale ingredients and meals, as if mortal food hadn’t been but ash in his mouth for two hundred years.

The elf glares at your insolence but doesn’t retort; he’s too busy trying to keep himself from vomiting again.

The following morning, Astarion wakes feeling much better. Practically brand new, in fact. It seems the potion and your strange flower child medicine must have done the trick. He sighs a breath of relief and then rolls to snuggle against you for a few more precious moments. He reaches his arms out and grasps at nothing but air.

The silver-haired elf immediately frowns and sits up. That’s exceptionally odd. You were not a morning person; you never had been in the ten years he’d known you. You always slept in longer than him, even in the wilds. On more than one occasion he’d had to lure you out of your nearly comatose slumber with the tempting smells of coffee and breakfast.

Astarion hears you gagging in the bathroom and goes to investigate. He soon finds you clinging to the toilet, practically mirroring how he looked the day prior.

“Oh no, little love, do you think you have food poisoning, too?” He questions, frowning slightly before kneeling down to press his hand against your forehead just like you’d done to him, “No fever, though.”

You whine, leaning into your husband’s hand before grumbling, “Damn the Blushing Mermaid straight to Stygia! Why do I even like that place, again?”

Astarion laughs, “I’ve been wondering the same thing for years, dear. I hope now you’ll finally reconsider. Do you want some tea and a bath?”

“Please,” You say, just before another wave of nausea hits you, forcing you to throw your head into the toilet and gag. Frustratingly, not much actually comes out despite the waves of sickness coursing through your body.

Gods, you wish you could simply vomit and feel relief.

Astarion begins to prepare the appropriate remedies, much like you’d done for him the day before. Thankfully, you seem to recover much faster than he did, and by midday you look and feel completely normal.

Good thing, too. You two were out of any elixirs that may have helped you had your ailment been as severe as Astarion's.

“Perhaps I’m just a better healer than you, darling.” The silver-haired elf teases as the two of you take afternoon tea in the sunroom.

“Perhaps I’m just stronger and more resilient than you, my love.” You retort, wrinkling your nose in jest at your husband.

He chuckles softly and then presses a kiss to your nose, “Agree to disagree.”

Astarion thinks the two of you are past this bit of bad luck, but when he wakes the following morning, he hears you retching once again.

When the elf finds you in the bathroom, appearing as almost an exact repeat of yesterday, though perhaps a bit worse, his brow furrows.

“Darling, I'm worried now. You look more ill than before. Perhaps we should take a trip to Jaheira? I can head to the apothecary for another Elixir of Health while she looks you over.” He murmurs gently, extending his hands to pull you to your feet.

You simply nod in agreement, too nauseated to do more than follow your husband’s lead as he slips you into a set of robes and ushers you into the carriage.

When Astarion returns to Jaheira’s after dashing out to the apothecary, he finds you sitting at the druid’s dining table. The two of you stop whatever hushed conversation you’d been having and turn to look at him in unison.

“Feeling any better, Tav?” He asks, coming to stand by your side before placing a worried hand upon your shoulder. You simply cover your hand with his and nod in response.

“Much better,” You say, flashing your husband a small smile. Something about your expression looks hazed, as if you’re stuck in a daydream. Poor thing, you're probably exhausted and experiencing brain fog.

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine with the teas and medicinals I’ve given you,” Jaheira assures, her eyes flickering between the two of you. She grins for the briefest moment before falling back into her typical, more serious demeanor.

Astarion swears he feels like something is off, but when he turns to give you a questioning look, you’re the picture of happiness as you sip from your tea cup, finishing it off.

Well, at least you’re doing what Jaheira has prescribed.

“What about the Elixir of Health I’ve just purchased?” Your husband asks, lifting the bag in his hand, “Will that help?”

“Oh, I recommend you keep it for something else. I don’t think Tav needs it for this,” The druid responds before standing, signaling it’s the end of the visit. She was always quite straight forward and lacking in certain genteel social graces, in Astarion’s opinion.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with the Harpers.”

You quickly bid your goodbyes and Astarion helps you back into the carriage, eager to get you back to bed so that you can sleep off the rest of this sickness.

Astarion notices you’re uncharacteristically quiet on the carriage ride home. He typically doesn’t mind when you’re in one of your pensive, stoic moods. But this illness of yours had him more anxious than usual and he had to know more about Jaheira’s examination results, if only to ease his own worries.

“Darling,” He starts, taking your hand in his. But you don’t seem to hear him; you’re still lost in your own little world.

“My love,” He says, this time a bit more urgently, squeezing your hand just enough to pull your attention to him, “What did Jaheira say, exactly? Did she mention how long this illness will last?”

“Oh, the nausea will probably go on for a few weeks,” You reply, a goofy, lopsided smile breaking across your face. You cannot stifle your grin at the little secret you know you’ll be unable to keep for more than a few moments longer.

“Weeks?” Astarion questions, his voice pitching up with worry and brows stitching together in concern.

Why in the hells are you smiling? What druid bullshit was in the tea Jaheira gave you?

He folds his arms across his chest, not at all pleased by the lack of seriousness you seem to display. The idea of you being sick for weeks makes his heart hurt and his stomach churn as if he’s still sick. He could never stand to see you uncomfortable.

“Tav, are you drugged? This is serious. I fail to see what there is to be smiling about right now. You’re going to be nauseous for weeks and you can’t use an Elixir of Health? Are you absolutely sure Jaheira even knows what she’s—“

“I’m pregnant, Astarion,” You interrupt, and you cannot help but to laugh at your husband as his mouth hangs open mid-sentence, frozen in shock.

He blinks for a moment or two, otherwise completely still as his brain rushes to process the new information.

When the elf finally regains his composure and finds his ability to speak, he shoots out a flustered, rambled, “Darling, I— I’m sorry, can you repeat that? I’m not certain I heard you correctly. The road is quite bumpy and the wheels of the carriage are loud— I think they need oil— and the horses—“

You laugh and firmly grasp your husband’s hand, wholly capturing his attention before murmuring, “You ridiculous elf. You heard me the first time. I’m pregnant, Astarion.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen a bigger grin cross your husband’s face.

“Tav, darling, I— gods, just come here to me.”

Astarion’s lips crash into yours, and he’s smiling into the kiss as he threads a hand through your hair, intent on pressing you closer into him. A tiny, delighted hum escapes your husband as he uses the kiss to express all the feelings he cannot yet put into words.

When he finally pulls away, he cups your face with his hands and peppers a few more kisses upon your lips.

“Is this your way of telling me you’re happy about this, Astarion?” You ask, grinning at your husband as he gazes upon you with the most besotted eyes you’ve ever seen.

“Thrilled, my love,” He whispers, before pressing forward to kiss you again, trying to convey the depth of his excitement with his affections. He doesn’t let go of you the rest of the way home, almost desperate to cover you in worshipful kisses, each one a little vow of love to you.

You notice he's unusually quiet, but then, he’s far too busy smiling and smooching to do much talking.

Later that evening, you move to get out of bed and head toward the bedchamber door.

“Ah, ah, ah. Where do you think you’re going, little love?” Astarion calls, already tossing his book aside to follow after you, “What do you need? Let me bring it to you.”

“I just wanted a cup of water, Astarion. I can go get—“ You start, but he quickly presses a kiss to your lips, effectively quieting you.

“Hush, my love. You’re still nauseated and you’re carrying very precious cargo.” He gently chastises as he turns you by your shoulders and steers you back toward the bed.

“You’re being dramatic,” You grumble, sitting back down in the bed and wrinkling your nose at your husband.

“Perhaps,” He agrees, grinning down at you as he gently folds the blankets back around your legs, “But you knew exactly the type of theatrics you signed up for when you married me, darling. 'To have and to hold, to love and to cherish' and all that, hm?”

And in that moment, Astarion was certain he’d never love and cherish anything more than you.

Nine months later, the little silver-haired newborn he held in his arms would prove him wrong.

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akutasoda · 5 months ago

Text

"i found my heart, i found your heart, and it's still beating"

--you two were denser than rocks, is what dan feng thought. and now looking back on all those years you realise just what could've been, but it's too late now...

--warnings - gn!longlife species reader, fluff, pining, angst no comfort, mention of death??, two people that can't see the signs, maybe ooc, wc - 2.4k

--a/n: wowee yingixing fic! tbh i spent alot of time on r/blacksmiths when writing HAHA shouts to @milksnake-tea for the idea behind this which then inspired the whole thing... and here you go pookies @lowkeyren + @https-sourlimes i hope i did the wife proud!!

the natural heat of the day was nearly unbearable.

nearly as it paled in comparison to the blazing warmth that crept out the furnace and filled the air of the small workshop - although by now the lone figure was well used to the conditions forced upon him when forging.

he had a quota to reach. many weapons began their life being forged within these walls by his hands and died upon battlefields. most of his creations never lasted, all the time and toil spent making them just for them to be destroyed in the hands of those either lucky enough to make it back, or unlucky enough to not.

but a quota was a quota - more casualties would only be caused if he failed. a sigh escaped him as he picked up the last sword before moving towards the stifling heat of the forge and holding the sword in, patiently waiting for it to turn a glowing yellow and then removing it.

sitting down and setting down the stock flat on the anvil, he began carefully shaping the top of the soon to be sword. he stopped for a moment, the sound of approaching footsteps caught his attention and a part of him could guess just who was visiting him now.

wiping away the sweat from his forehead with the back of his leather gloves, he watched as you walked through the open door - it was never closed when the forge was going, the room would've turned itself into the forge otherwise. and with that he knew his time was up.

“done with the weapons yet?” your voice called out but he simply turned to flatten the blade, a smirk made it's way across your face “the marshall needs them by the deadline set you know?”

yingxing grumbled “as usual” speaking up to add “if they want them done quicker perhaps they could forge them themselves then?”

he stood up and held the sword into the forge again, holding it for less time than previously. clearly he wasn't in a rush so you prompted “how long then?”

“depends, if the marshall wants a decent weapon i still need to sand, sharpen, reheat and create the hilt” pausing before pulling the sword away from the forge and pointing it at you “or you could take it now”

his arrogance would be the death of you, but for now a smile graced your face before urging him to continue on - the marshall could wait a while longer.

unlike yingxing, you weren't accustomed to the conditions of the forgery and so the suffocating environment forced you to find respite outside until he was finished. if anything this was a usual routine between the two of you nowadays, the marshall would send you to collect weapons from yingxing but everytime he wouldn't be completely finished and so you'd wait outside.

occasionally you sat with him but the sweltering heat made it feel like the whole room would suffocate you and he often preferred to work in silence. he never took that long anyway, or if he did it was purposeful and you both knew so - at least the scenery was nice.

“it’s finished now, don't keep the marshall waiting longer or else we’ll both hear about it” his voice snapped you out of a daze, you turned to watch him sit beside you “fresh air feels nice”

“it's your choice to hold yourself up in that forgery for hours” pausing, you looked at him before turning back and scrunching your nose “least you could do is leave that smell in there”

he held back a small laugh “not my problem, now are you going to deliver the weapons or not, i've done my part”

sighing, you stood up and yingxing followed suit before leading you back into the forgery and handing over the weapons.

---✩

“your late”

yingxing fought the urge to roll his eyes “it's nice to see you too dan feng”

the high elder shot him a glance that landed somewhere between annoyed and somewhat relieved.

despite being the only short life species among the high cloud quintet, the furnace master was just as a part of the group as the rest - if anything, one of the most important as he was responsible for hand crafting each and every one of their weapons.

“im earlier than the rest, your too punctual for your own good” he sighed

dan feng scoffed “it’s more likely that the rest of you aren't”

yingxing wanted to comment on how it wasn't an important meetup, if anything it was a friendly hangout but unfortunately arguing with dan feng was a futile task that only got more depressing for him as he went on.

fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how he looked at it, they were still a group yingxing held dear. some of his closest companions to which he even looked up to. so even now, the silence was comfortable. the high elder was a comforting presence as despite his initial arrogance, he carried a deep seated care reserved to those he deemed important.

yingxing caught the way dan feng looked over to him occasionally, like he had something to say. eventually the silence was broken by the furnace master asking what was on dan fengs mind.

“have they realised yet?” was his response, it sounded rather uncharacteristic for the high elder.

but yingxing knew he was referring to you. ages ago he had consulted baiheng about the warm fuzzy feelings he felt around you and the foxian was practically beaming as she told him that he had a crush. although she didn't exactly know how to keep a secret and very quickly the entire quintet knew of his apparent “crush”.

baiheng was normally the one to bring it up so he never really expected dan feng to - the foxian was always very eager to be updated on the situation between the two of you. although a very prominent issue soon became apparent. you were quite dense toward the furnace master's advances.

“same as last time i'm afraid” he sighed, every single one of his advances had gone straight over your head. and every single time he reported back to baiheng who became even more puzzled about how to help him finally get round to you.

the high elder hummed “try being more direct then” out of all people, yingxing never expected to get relationship advice from dan feng. it was practically shocking. be more direct. was it really that simple?

---✩

unfortunately, being direct was more of an issue than either of them thought.

no matter how much yingxing tried to subtly hint to you, it always became lost in translation. even his more direct approaches were interpreted as friendly gestures or simple acts of kindness - he couldn't even get frustrated because a part of him thought it was cute.

every day baiheng would find yingxing sitting defeated in the forgery, his head in his hands as he tried to decipher exactly what he could've done better to finally get through to you. she'd always have to console him and convince the deflated furnace master that he could always try again.

no amount of gifts, kind words or actions that couldn't be mistaken as simple friendly gestures, could convince you. every time you found some way to see it as friendly and not a romantic advance on yingxing's part. not even the handmade trinket he made you that suspiciously matched his hairpin could convince you.

baiheng, and occasionally dan heng or jing yuan, would always tell him that he still had time - jingliu never really liked to get involved. they'd always tell him that there would be some way to get you to acknowledge his feelings. he believed them.

one day, perhaps he could build up the confidence to confess directly. to stop beating around the subject and come clean. clearly subtle advances weren't going to do the trick, but yingxing had the time to build up that confidence.

---✩

but yingxing had less time than he thought.

it was jing yuan that broke the news to you.

the grief was almost instant. a deep rooted part of yourself was convinced it was some cruel joke, an insensitive prank that he was put up to - but you knew better. the realistic, logical part of yourself was well aware of the truth but it was suppressed by the emotional side. the part of yourself that wanted to scream and curse the aeons, the arbiter, yourself, anyone that could've prevented it.

jing yuan hated to be the one to tell you. but no-one else would. he was hurting as well, having watched all his friends fall into despair, ruin and death. admittedly, he probably wasn't supposed to tell you but since he knew how close you and yingxing were, he reckoned you could be an exception.

it hurt jing yuan even more to leave you almost immediately after breaking the news to you. he could see how distraught you were but he was in no position to offer you comfort. although honestly, you preferred to be left alone.

you needed to process the passing of yingxing. well he wasn't dead, but jing yuan had told you how he was banished from the luofu - he was a short life species unlike yourself so you had to come to terms with the fact that you probably were never seeing him again. yingxing would die and you wouldn't ever see him again.

it hurt. it was as if the aeons themselves had plucked your heart from your chest and pierced it in front of you. that night, you cried. harder than you ever had in your life, clutching the handmade trinket that he made you.

---✩

it was hard to miss the news, the previous high elder returning to the luofu, stellaron hunters aboard - one or the other would lead to both being mentioned anyway. a scoff was all that left your mouth when you first heard, the previous high elder was dead. forced to reincarnate, the chances of his reincarnation willingly coming back was low.

the stellaron hunters didn't alarm you either, sure they were wanted criminals but confidence could be placed in the cloud knights and even the general himself. although it became apparent that it was the stellaron hunter you had to worry about.

yet again, it was jing yuan that told you. he was hesitant for many reasons. one reason was the fact that even though you both resided on the luofu, you barely spoke with him ever since the incident - he didn't exactly hope that your first time talking with him in ages was to tell you that yingxing’s new self was aboard the luofu, and a wanted criminal at that - and admittedly he hadn't told you the whole truth all those years ago.

another reason was that he wanted to protect you. jing yuan knew you would've heard about imbibitor lunaes return and the steallron hunters but he didn't trust blade.

he wasn't yingxing. the yingxing that constantly tried to hit on your dense self, that gifted you handmade trinkets often, that made you laugh. no. it was a stellaron hunter known as blade occupying yingxing's mara stricken body.

but you deserved to know. to at least be aware of the situation and so, begrudgingly, jing yuan informed you. what he hadn't anticipated was for you to immediately rush off in search of your supposed yingxing.

it didn't surprise you to find "him".

that wasn't yingxing, the “furnace master” that made you laugh, made you feel warm and safe. no, this was an abomination. someone who had taken the man known as yingxing and ruined him, taken him to the brink of death over and over just to come back with more scars that never healed, piling on again and again until he wasn't the same.

all that was left was bitter malice seeping into the parts that slowly ebbed away, slowly removing any semblance that could link “blade” to yingxing. would it be fair to even call him a human?

the only thing that could even link that monster to your friend was his attire. it was tattered and worn, nothing like how yingixing would've worn it - although rather admittedly his outfit was never “clean”, constantly dirtied by the consequences of forging weapons but he tried his best.

he finally noticed you, and as you locked eyes, it felt like staring into the eyes of a stranger. it was as if the mara had risen from the hands of abundance itself and ate away at the one memory left alive until nothing could be linked back. it forced it's way into his brain, stripping him of what little semblance of sanity remained upon seeing you.

the mara forced his hand, the one he desperately tried to hold back but it was as if his body was no longer his. you weren't from his memories but some part of him could recognise you.

blade knew you weren't his, you weren't even yingixing's but he longed to hold you in his arms. to be selfish and have what his previous identity couldn't.

it was a futile effort. his mara forced him to attack, in his eyes you were no longer an innocent bystander - you were a threat. to anyone else, they would say that blade held nothing but hatred behind his gaze. pure rage and despise. but to you, you could pick up on relief.

some deep rooted part of yingxing that hadn't been lost to the mara that encompassed blade recognised you. affection and longing could be found in his gaze, fighting to break through to the last conscious part of blade's brain. it was an impossible chance. so instead he hurts.

damaging the parts of you that a previous identity would've died to caress and kiss. no longer could you sit and wonder about what could've been. yingxing was gone. this man was simply a monster accumulated from the parts of him.

rest of the "series"

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

#↦❣letters to the one i loved ❣#—stellaronhvnters.#x reader #x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #blade x reader #yingxing x reader #hsr blade #hsr yingxing

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tmwcs · 1 year ago

Text

THE BUTLER

Warnings: Unprotected smut, slight voyeurism, secret smut, secret love, heart break, Y/N is a rich girl, not at all spoiled, slight Cinderella vibes, stepmom and sisters, they don't really like y/n, and death. MDNI content is for 18+ only.

Something for you guys as I finish the last chapter of DT. I started this a while ago but finally decided to finish it, as you can see, I was inspired by the release of "Criminal Love" so enjoy. I enjoyed this piece quite a bit. Part of this is proofread, so sorry if the ending of it seems a little sloppy.

“Oh! She’s here sir!”

The house nanny calls out, informing your father of your expectant arrival. Your mother and stepfather told you that this was a great opportunity to travel overseas, leave home, and expand your horizons as a prospective student. And lucky for you, your father’s work as the country’s Ambassador afforded you said opportunity, and you wish you could be just as excited about it as everyone else. Truth of the matter was, it devastated you to leave.

Of course, growing up in a proper household, one with many manners and strict etiquettes in place, only meant that naturally, you were groomed to put on a mask to conceal your true emotions, among other things.

You loved your family, and respected your father dearly, even when only seeing him every summer. Yet there was something back at home that caused this change of pace; something that you knew you had to get away from, even at the cost of your goals and happiness.

It was hard for anyone to understand, since you and your former companion had only known each other for a year. To others, it appeared only as a fling, a swift love that left as fast as it came, but for you, it was a whole other matter. Unbeknownst to everyone around you, promises of a tight future we’re made, all initiated by him. He told you he loved you, cherished you, and that you both would be together forever. So was it a surprise to you, or him, that you fell into the abyss of depression and had clammed up after he exposed how he didn’t think much of your relationship; that it was just something to look back on, as “experience” for real love.

“Real love?….”

How could he use those words put together? How dare he? After all the times that you gave up to be with him; the sacrifices you made, and not to mention, the countless hours you made up to maintain your grades while still being there for him whenever he needed you. Such as the time when he lost a beloved family member, and you were the only one there to console him. One thing led to another and in a blink of an eye, you were no longer a virgin. You never minded, after all, he did tell you that he saw a future with you as his wife, and you responded each time by giving him your flesh and sweat….you did all of that, yet he didn’t see it as real love.

Your mother and stepfather could never know the degree of your breakdown. How could they? They probably suspected it, but never confirmed that you lost your virginity to the man. After he told you that he no longer wanted you, he moved on to another girl, one that you used to call ‘friend’. How despicable. Guess that was college life for you, though you would have never braced for something so heartbreaking to happen, even at a prestigious university.

After all that, you stopped talking and dropped all of your classes. You fell lower than ever before, and perhaps your mothers words, “It's not a big deal, he’s not worth it. You’ve only known him for a year, forget about him.” Was said, only to try and bring you back from the ground you found yourself graveling on. You know your mother better than anyone else, she loved you more than the world and would do, and say, anything to bring you back to a sound mental state of mind. She always did before, only this time….it didn’t work.

That’s when the idea of sending you to live at your fathers estate came to discussion. Your father was a very noble man, not in a literal sense of course; the man had built himself up from nothing, growing up from such a poor family. Through his elaborate military career and his continued service in politics, he earned his lavish lifestyle. The driver opens the door and gives you a hand, helping you out of the backseat as you are immediately greeted by the house nanny, and your father following suit.

“Papa!”

“There’s my girl! Come here, it’s been too long since I last saw you. Look at you, just as pretty as always.”

Holding you in a warm embrace, you felt free from the pain of heartbreak as you hugged your father; you missed him so much and it was always good to see him. Aside from being with him, his estate was something that you always cherished. He had acres of land, manicured with a few guest homes on the property. There were large floral gardens and orchards that decorated the entire estate with the main house stationed at the center of the acreage. Maybe coming to live here for a while wasn’t such a bad idea after all. And who knows, if you had ever found a reason to go back, you could always get up and go ... .just as much as you could settle down and stay, so long as you had found meaning behind that decision.

During your embrace, you caught the eye of the trio that made their way over, though they seemed less excited in greeting you.

“Well, you could have called when you were nearby. We were just about to have lunch. It would have been embarrassing to begin eating and to take a pause because of your arrival.”

When it came to your father, mother, and stepfather, they were all a delight and you couldn’t have asked for better parents. However, when it came to your stepmother, that was an entirely different story. Of course, your fathers marriage to her wouldn’t be complete without your two stepsisters…

“Oh my gosh! Look at her hair! See mom! I want my extensions to be as long as her hair, the same length.”

“Y/n, where did you get your outfit? It’s so pretty, I want one just like it but in pink. Don’t I look good in pink?”

Your father takes a moment to jest, yet you had a feeling by the tone he took with your stepmom and sisters, that he was more on the serious side at hinting on their lack of manners. The ‘joke’ was him remaining tactful, as always.

“Well, usually it’s customary to say ‘hello’ and ‘how are you?’ whenever you’re greeting family, but I guess talking about lunch, hair, and outfits is just as welcoming.”

Looking up at your father, he gives you a small wink before placing a kiss on your head, much to the obvious dismay of your stepmom. “I was only trying to point out that it would have been more considerate of her to call, that’s all. But, I guess you do have a point.”

Your stepmom quickly took the hint, and rendered obedience in her own manner, before ushering the girls to come up and greet you properly. Pushing boundaries with your father is never a smart idea, for anyone. The man was rich, had close connections with the government, and didn’t feel the ‘need’ to have a wife as much as he merely enjoyed having one for companionship. Your stepmom knew that, just needed a reminder from time to time that he would drop her quickly, along with your stepsisters. You��re not entirely sure what had gone wrong, you never did anything to your stepmom nor did you ever go out of your way to offend her. Yet somehow, she acted somewhat distasteful to you. As for your stepsiblings, it wasn’t quite their fault. They were spoiled, had everything beyond the world given to them, and only acted out based on the initiative of their mother. Nevertheless, you were always pleasant and did your best to make them feel welcomed. You even gave up your room, the largest suite of the household, all to accommodate their ‘needs’ shortly after your father married and brought them in. Since you previously had only come for long visits in the summer during your college breaks, it wasn’t a huge deal to give up your room, or your favorite guesthouse, which was once your getaway for whenever you wanted to paint and do pottery. What was once your soaring heaven had now become a playhouse for the girls…to depreciate and throw their large parties for whenever they wanted to have their friends over. Guess that is what it means to be the elder and the matured one out of the brunch.

“Come on sweetheart, let’s get you fed. I imagine you’re tired and hungry from that long flight, did you have any trouble finding Bitterman?”

“No Sir, I found her with no trouble. It’s quite easy to find a girl as pretty as her.” Bitterman, your fathers driver, chimes in, earning a chuckle from the latter. “Thank you my friend, be sure to get yourself fed as well, Louis has the kitchen smelling delightful.”

Your father was always admired and loved by the staff, and it wasn’t hard to see why. He wasn’t just wise, rational, and a thoughtful type, he was also benevolent and selfless. Indeed, he was just as good of a master as he was a father and husband.

“Oh, Bitterman, no need to get the bags, I’ll get them.” Your father exclaims as he goes to pick up one of your luggage. “Oh um….I can get that Papa, it’s actually kind of heavy—“

You were cut off when a shadowed figure appeared out of nowhere and grabbed hold of the leather strap, just before your father completed his reach for it. “I got it sir, please allow me.”

The tall figure was dressed in a black suit with a fitted designer trench coat to match, paired with fine leather gloves; the right one being fingerless. His hair was swiftly combed to the side, with a few pieces dangling above his eye and brow, yet it only enhanced his suave appeal. There was a slight bit of royal purple hue to his strands, yet it was tasteful and neat. He effortlessly picks up the luggage and swings it over a shoulder, and picks up another large carry-on before making his way inside the house. “The Nénuphar suite, correct?”

“Yes, thank you Ethan.”

Confused, you looked at your father as he took note that you hadn’t been properly introduced to his newly acquired staff member. “Oh! Ethan, this is y/n.” Turning back to you, your father completed the introduction as he took your hand and guided you closer to the mysterious man in black. “Y/n, this is Ethan. I’ve told him all about your arrival and if you need anything in my absence, come to him. He is the head of my household staff and is my personal butler, second to no one, except myself.”

“B-butler?” You were caught off guard at the label, the man did not carry the appearance of a butler. That was when your father somewhat clarified. “Well, butler in an abstruse sense. All you need to know is that he is my right hand man. So if you ever need anything, come to me or Ethan.”

‘Abstruse? What is that supposed to mean—‘

“It’s nice to meet you y/n.”

“Oh…it's nice to meet you too. Thank you...for taking my bags, I can get the rest of them.”

“No need, I’ll have it taken care of.” Turning his head to the side, he raises a hand and snaps his fingers. Upon the crisp sound echoing among the grand entrance of the estate, a series of maids and butlers come in and grab the remaining of your belongings. You raised a brow before peaking a questionable gaze at your father, in which he replied with…

“I told you, he is my right hand man.”

…………………………..

The next morning, you awoke in your beautifully furnished room. After carrying out your hygiene routine and dressing yourself, you walk down the lengthy staircase to find the girls at the base, dressed primply with jewels and broaches decorating their hair and outfits.

“I want to re-do my nails.”

“You just got yours done yesterday, it’s been three days since I got mine. I want to add more jewels.”

“I want more flowers.”

“I wanted them with a sharper point.”

“I wanted them longer.”

Walking through the foyer, Ethan takes stride with his hands clasped behind his back, as if he was taking a walk of leisure. Breaching the girls, they immediately dropped their topic of nail decor and called out to the handsome butler. “Oh Ethan!” One of the girls calls out. “I just got this dress yesterday, what do you think? Do you like it? Doesn’t pink look good on me?”

Ethan gave a faint, side smirk as he paused in his steps. His hands remained behind his stature as he stood comfortably, not responding. Your other sister butts in, trying to vye for the man’s attention as she shows off her manicure. Again, he remained silent, yet the girls seemed to be used to it.

“Oh, trying to be silent like always?”

“That’s so hot.”

“Come on, won’t you say anything about my outfit for once?”

“Or my nails?”

Pouting their faces rather flirtatiously, the girls flutter their lashes as they bite their lip, only to get nothing out of the man. You continued walking down during the entire entourage and once you reached the base, Ethan’s eyes sparked up. He glanced up and beyond their heads, watching as you made your way down. You pause as your sisters remained standing on the last step, seemingly oblivious to what the man was staring at.

“Ah, young lady, you’re just in time. Your dad wanted to see you first thing this morning.”

Extending his hand and shooting it between your sisters, the girls part ways as they watch you take Ethan’s hand as he guides you down the last step of the staircase. “I’ll take you to his study.” You felt his fingers subtly pinch your hand as he firmly established his grip. As he started to take you away, he suddenly paused with you remaining closely behind. His masculine scent was befitting with the dashing designer suit he had on; he looked more like a businessman than a butler, perhaps that was what your father meant from yesterday's conversation. Turning his head halfway, he glanced over to the girls and spoke in a low tone, all with a dashing smirk decorating his side profile.

“Oh…about your outfit and nails….it is not in my place or station to remark on such matters. Please consult your designers and seamstresses if you ever feel confused.” With a slight tug, he pulls your hand and leads you away while the girls stood confused with hurt feelings. There hadn’t been many interactions between Ethan and the girls, but from what you heard by the house nanny, the few times he did exchange words with the two, it was far from what they ever expected or trying to achieve. Aside from his laconic smirks, the man was stone cold towards the two.

Reaching the double doors of your father’s private office, another butler stands by. “Please inform the master that his daughter is here to see him.” Ethan calmly states. The other butler nods before knocking on the glazed wooden doors, before peeking in upon hearing your father responding from inside. The elder butler steps aside and gives a slight bow towards Ethan as the latter bars the doors wide open, gently dragging you behind.

“Sweetheart, did you sleep well?” Your father immediately speaks out, while Ethan takes you over to a tea table, surrounded by lounge seats. Pulling the seat back for you, he guides you over and pushes you in towards the table, where a lovely tea set and tiered tray filled with all sorts of snacks and finger sandwiches were nicely laid out as your father makes his way to join in. “I got all of your favorites.” Your father says proudly, shooting another wink over to you.

Ethan finishes scooting you into the table, his hands gently caressing the back of the seat. Before pulling away, his hands gently graze over your arms and shoulders as he walks out with one hand in his pocket. The man certainly walked with a sense of authority and carried out a superior presence, more so than even your father, even though he was the master.

“I am sorry for how your stepmom and sisters behaved yesterday, that shouldn’t have happened.”

Your fathers words caught your attention, causing you to turn your head away from Ethan’s backside, making eye contact with your sympathetic parent. “I had words with them yesterday and will make sure that doesn’t happen again, they need to be more mindful especially since you’re going to be here for a while.”

You shook your head and waved off his concern. “It’s fine, I’m not worried about it.”

Your father smiles at your reassurance and chuckles. “Good.” Adjusting in his seat, he takes a cup of tea and begins to sip on it while carrying the conversation to a different direction. “Did you sleep well?”

You nodded as you took your own cup and delicately sipped from it. Your father kept adjusting in his seat, appearing to find it difficult to gain comfort within the chair, not that it wasn’t hard to see why. The chairs were beautiful and carried a regal vintage design, but were very much too stiff for someone like your father, who required more softness to accommodate his back. No doubt he had so many strains from all the years he served in the military.

Just as you were about to ask him if he needed something for his chair, you hear the doors from behind open. Turning halfway in your own seat, you watched as Ethan entered with a silk and plush pillow in hand; he didn't say a word, instead, he walked directly over to your father and handed it over to him, obviously flaring his familiar knowledge of your father and his routines.

“Oh thank you so much Ethan, you do know me too well.” your father chuckles out as Ethan smirks. “Sweetheart, you want a pillow for your chair?” Your father asks you while Ethan stands by his side. He crosses his arms and gives a slight tilt of his head, establishing a rather dominant and assertive stance, yet your father seemed to be quite used to and didn’t mind at all, in fact, he seemed to embrace that wholeheartedly. You shook your head and politely declined the offer, to which Ethan issued a slight nod before exiting the study, turning back once more to pull the doors shut.

“I like Ethan, he’s super cool. Good guy too.” Your father spoke rather comfortably. You furrowed your brows confusingly, while nodding in agreement, sort of. “Is he…really your butler?” You asked as your father took a finger sandwich from the tier stand.

“Mmhmm.” Your father issues his response as he bites into the sandwich, and chews it while sipping on his tea. Looking back up, he gives you another wink. You chuckle and take one of the finger snacks and enjoyed it, along with a conversation that took up the entire morning as you caught up with your father and told him about college, your mother, stepfather, and even the young man that broke your heart, though one day at your father’s estate seemed to have done a lot of healing, more than you expected. You didn’t know why, but that would unfold as the days continued to swing by.

………………………

A couple of weeks had passed, and you didn’t see much of your sisters or stepmom, they weren’t really around at the house so much, instead, they liked their constant outings and partook in continuous shopping trips. You laughed and cringed internally as you watched the girls make their attempts in gaining Ethan’s affection, much less his attention. Half the time, the man would ignore their teasing and flirting words, but the times when he did entertain small talk, it was always a major shutdown, at least that’s what it looked like to you. But to the girls, it was something else.

…….

‘Oh that’s just how he is, trust me, Ethan likes it when I talk to him.’

‘I think he likes talking with me more.’

‘Shut the fuck up! He likes me more, bitch!’

‘You’re the bitch! You fucking rude bitch, who the fuck do you think you are?’

……

Now you were by no means a saint, but for the most part, using vulgar language was something you considered to perform only when the situation called for it. An outburst of anger perhaps, or…when you had your heart broken. A flashback of when the man informed you that you were just ‘practice’ for his real and true love came to mind, and the image of you screaming out and lashing every cursing you could imagine in his direction. Yet the girls were using it so freely, over a man that didn’t seem to take interest in anything other than his duties.

You politely excuse yourself from the room, allowing for the girls to bicker in peace while the seamstresses customized their designer gowns for the upcoming event. You gently shut the doors behind as you take your stroll outside, loving the sound of the doves that hummed their tune in a nearby Magnolia tree. You walked over to the massive gazebo, lavished with wisteria vines and overlooking the flat fields that extended past the lines of the property. A stone rail surrounding the gazebo stands at chest height, it was perfect for you to rest your forearms on as you leaned in and took in the beautiful sight of nature and tranquility. You watched as the staff members from afar tended to the private livestock, and harvested the fruits from your father’s orchard. In a peaceful state, you stare off with nothing in mind other than the happiness you witnessed as the staff members conducted their duties from afar, not at all realizing that you were watching them with a smile on your face.

“Enjoying the view?”

You turned your head and saw Ethan entering through the hanging vines of purple flowers from the Wisteria plant. “Oh–yeah…sorry, you caught me off guard.” Chuckling, you turn your attention back to the staff members. Ethan comes by your side, and as you had done, he leans against the stone rail while resting his forearms on the smoothed top surface. “Yeah, I seem to have a habit of doing that from time to time.” He calmly tells you, it almost seemed like it was his way of joking, yet you didn't really know whether to laugh or stay silent, so you gave a delicate chuckle instead.

“How are you enjoying being back? It's been the previous summer since you’ve last visited, correct?”

You nodded. “Yes, last summer was the last time I came over. At first, I’m not sure if I was thrilled about living here, not that I don't love my father, I do. I just…it was an abrupt decision and I didn’t really have a whole lot of say in the matter. But I’m glad I did…I miss my dad so much and I always did like this place.”

You confide as Ethan stares off at the orchard, nodding gently at your words. “When did you start working for my dad?”

Ethan lets out a light and airy chuckle of his own, dashing a side smirk as he continues to stare off at the fields. His hands were decorated with the leather gloves, with the right one being fingerless, as always. “Next week makes it six months.”

“You like it here too?”

“I do.” He pauses as he clasps his hands together before him. “Your dad is a good man.”

“Yeah he is.” you chuckle out, flattered by the compliment.

“Did you finish with the seamstresses?” he inquires. You turn to glance over to him with a faint, sweet smirk before looking back over to the distant orchard. “No, not yet. I figured I’d let my sisters do their thing and I’ll get my dress made after.”

“Hm. So you’re just wanting to get away and enjoy solitude in the meantime then.” his voice was deep, calm, and soothing. There was a tone in him that brought the image of a placid lake and gentle wind to mind. You could side with your father’s opinion on Ethan, he was a gentle and good man, and he was very fond of your father.

“Yeah…I love to get away.” you responded back, lifting your nose into the air as you relished the soothing wind blowing against your skin and through your hair. Ethan tilts his head over. “You love to get away?”

“Yeah.” you chuckle out as you flinch a quick glance over his way. He smiles in return.

“What do you like to get away from?”

“Everything. Sometimes I just like to get away from people, and be only in the presence of nature and wind.”

“What else?” Drawing your secrets out, he inquires for you to continue, and you confide fully without giving it a second thought. “I like to get away from responsibility and duties, and experience freedom, even if it's just for a second.”

Remaining in his leaned state, Ethan adjusts, shifting his weight over to one arm as he turns to fully face your direction. “So, you’re an escape artist, in a sense.” He smirks out.

“Yeah.” you chuckled, loving the feel of the wind picking up pace, roaring through your hair.

“You’re a runner?” his voice peaking a sense of interest as he remarks your habit of ‘running away’ or getting away from the things that burden you.

“I am.”

“You’re a runaway that likes to daydream?”

“I am.”

You both laugh in sync. He licks and bites his lip as he turns his face away and stares back off at the orchard. “Neat.” is all he says. Just as you were going to inquire about his unusual leather gloves, a dainty voice comes in from behind. “Y/N, we’re ready for you now.” You turn to see the personal seamstress. You smile and bid Ethan a goodbye before leaving him at the gazebo, not realizing that your smile flashed a charming sense that became permanently ingrained in the man’s memory.

……………………….

The night of the event, you sat in your room for a while before deciding to finally make your appearance at the ballroom. Your father’s residence was massive, with four floor levels and a grand ballroom on the main floor; despite frequently visiting every summer, it took you a while to remember your way around. Now, you know the entire house like the back of your hand.

You walk down the staircase, listening in on the laughter and small talk of the large crowd residing in the ballroom. The tail of your dress slinks down each step behind as you drag your hand against the smooth rail. You opted for a simple, plain and form fitting gown, with a high slit reaching your upper thigh; you’re not entirely too sure why you felt the need to look sexy, but why not? You only live once.

Your sisters also opted for a sexy look, though their plunging necklines screamed of desperation rather than seduction, but you kept your opinions to yourself. Tonight was a night for celebration, not for bickering.

You enter the grand room and earn a wave of stares. Your father stands at a distance and smiles proudly as he watches you make your way to one of the floor length windows. You gaze off at the moon, it looked so full and pretty tonight, shame you had to be inside.

The lights dim down, and the band plays a gentle piece that initiates the guest to slow dance. That was your que, one that you always looked out for, so you could…

“Get away…”

Snaking through the crowd, you make your way over to one of the outer doors that lead to a stone corridor that wraps around the entire base level of the mansion. You found solace in a secluded corner that overlooked the moon and stars, and was closed off to guests. The area wasn’t at all separated distinctively; it didn't have any walls, yet the four large pillars that surrounded it provided enough cover and seclusion for you to remain undisturbed, at least from the guests…

“Getting away again?” You turn to the side and notice Ethan entering the outdoor sitting area.

“Yeah…just for a little bit.”

He walks over and just as he did before, he stands by your side and admires the view of the full moon. His appearance wasn’t anything out of normal; he had on a fine black suit and tie, his leather gloves, and black shined shoes. His hair was styled just the same, and roared out a purple hue under the moonlight. In all actuality, he looked like one of the prestigious male guests inside the ballroom. Taking note of the privacy you both shared, you finally had the courage to ask him about his unusual choice of gloves.

“I was wanting to ask you…”

“Hmm?”

“Your gloves…I dont think I’ve ever seen anyone wear gloves like yours, especially a butler.”

“Oh, these? It’s just for comfort when I carry out some of my tasks.” He puts out nonchalantly, pretty much in the same manner as your father responded whenever you breached the topic of Ethan.

“Oh, I see. A butler that just likes to wear leather gloves then.” you chuckled out, with his own laughter following closely behind.

“Yeah, just a butler who likes to wear leather gloves.” he gently repeats as he switches his gaze from the moon, and looks over to you. Had you not been admiring the moon yourself, you would have taken notice of his unyielding stare. His eyes travel up and down, noting that this was the first time since your arrival to your father’s estate that he got to see the reality of your form. It was beautiful.

Admiring the curves of your body, the length of your hair traveling down your backside, and the complexion of your glowing skin, the man found himself in awe….again.

“So what made you want to get away this time? The people? The politics?”

“The moon.” you jest, slightly biting down on your lip, though you did so harmlessly. Yet Ethan couldn’t help but see the sultry beauty behind it. “I like the moon.” You claim.

“Oh yeah? What else do you like?” he punctures your way, unbeknownst to you, he takes a step closer by your side.

“I like animals. I like food, and the stars, and–”

“To run away…” he finishes, earning your sudden attention, allowing for you to see that he had migrated closer.

“...Yes. I like to run away.” You calmly state, issuing a faint nervous chuckle upon noticing the feasting hunger that glared in his eye. It scared you…but you were liking it….and you wanted more of it.

Reaching up, he takes a bit of your hair and glides his fingers through the length of it, allowing it to fall back on your spine. “Now tell me again…what else do you like, pretty girl.”

Your breathing was less steady and deep, you suddenly found the tone of his voice so alluring, and the way he ran his fingers through your hair brought out a tight feeling from within your gut. Tingling and numbness chimes in your womanhood, it was a sensation you were familiar with, yet this time it was much stronger and vivid. You whisper out your response, taking the plunge and the chance to tell him, without being so direct…

“I like….you…”

So much for not being too direct. At least you could say you tried to keep it somewhat discreet, which was much more than what you could say about your stepsisters.

“Yeeeah…I like you too…” his voice grew deeper and the shine in his eyes grew fierce as the hungry sense raged wildly, he looked different. He looked almost frightening, with how starving his eyes looked, yet the moment he gripped a handful of your hair while saying his piece, you could care less that he had the look of a hungry killer or a sadistic maniac, you were willing to feed him, and he sensed it.

With the grip of your silk strands, he pulls you in, sucking in your breath as he fully envelops your lips in a deep kiss. Oh to be kissed by this man….it was something else.

He explores your body and rubbed your hips, his fingers digging into your waist as a hand rides up your back and cradles the back of your scalp while taking in the sensation of your soft strands. The first moan you release against his tongue, he instantaneously rushes you against the pillar nearby, the force of his weight pushing you back until your shoulders meet the cold marble. Your rear and spine is plastered against the surface, yet he continues to push as his body melts into you. Without breaking the kiss, he keeps pushing, rubbing, and grinding, feeding off those sweet moans you let out.

Finally, he allows for the both of you to take a breath as he abruptly breaks his lips away. Softly gripping your neck, the fine leather squeezing against your skin, he whispers before placing a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose, his eyes staring down at you and never breaking contact. “Be a good pretty thing…and try to stay quiet for me.”

“Mm..mmhmm…” you moaned.

“Yeah? Can you do that?”

“Y-yes….yes…”

“Yeah?” he lowers his head and buries his face into your neck, ravishing you with kisses as he smothers his saliva on your smooth skin. “Say you’ll be good for me.”

“I-I’ll….I’ll be good…I’ll try to be good…mmm…Ethan.”

“Heeseung.”

You moaned out of both, pleasure and confusion as you winced your eyes shut upon feeling his kisses becoming rougher, his teeth nibbling on your neck. “H-Heeseung?”

“Mmhmm…my real name.” He lets out just before he gives you a sharp bite. “Ah! Uggghhhhh!!’ you jerked up upon feeling the stinging sensation, with him easing it out as he licked over his teeth mark. “Shhhh….you gotta be good, remember?” he mocks as he gives you another bite.

“Ugh! Fffffffffuck….ugh!” you lengthen out your moans as you feel your body tremble. You really thought you could be quiet, that wasn’t hard to do with the last guy…but with Ethan…no, Heeseung….it was impossible.

“I…I can’t…I can’t….please…please let me scream….oh God I wanna scream…”

Looping his hand under your thigh, he lifts your weight as your back drags against the pillar, his lips sucking and kissing your breasts, which have now become exposed as he pulls the straps down from over your shoulders. With a mouthful of your plump areola, his free hand trails upwards and makes its way to gently cover your mouth. “Then scream baby.”

His finger digs into the skin of your upper leg as he sustains your weight, while his free hand shoots up and gently holds you by your neck. It was all happening so fast, you hadn’t realized that he had already snaked his member out from his trousers until you felt the warm skin of his hard bulge probing your clothed entrance. He fingers your panties and scoots them off to the side, where the probing became more intense as you felt his hips bucking upward. He enjoyed teasing you with it, poking you a few more times as he wasn't focusing on entering, until you let out a whine that indicates your desire for him to do it to you. “Please…..” you moaned out. He kisses you as he finds himself, slipping through your tight walls. The both of you breathed out deeply and simultaneously upon feeling the initial penetration. He breaks the distance just slightly between your lips, so that he could take a better look at you while he continued to thrust all the way in, slowly. Sloooooowly.

There was so much friction, roughness, and pressure, but it was all divine. He stared down at you, looking directly into your eyes with his feasting ones, while his grip on your neck tightened ever so slightly. His thumb reaches up, and grazes over our gasping lips as you pant out your moans.

“Shh…” he waves his index over your lips, hushing you tenderly before the base of his groin meets with yours. You felt full, stuffed, and complete. He gives a slight nudge, imploring for you to respond that you were ready, and you were. With a slight nod, your eyes glistened as you gave him his que, to which he took, along with a kiss on the tip of your nose before he started to pull out. He didn’t have to say it, you could hear it within his growl that you were tight. Your walls squeezed every ounce of precum out of his throbbing length as he drew it out from the immense pressure your cavity created for him. Your squelching walls squeezing him, cradling him with a tight ring of muscle that made it almost seemed impossible for him to penetrate a second time. His breathing escalates yet each exhale becomes prolonged as he groans out the pleasure he felt upon breaching you. He exits out fully, his bulbous tip barely lays nestled in your cavity, with only the very tip that carried his exit laying inside, but it wasn’t for long. You clenched uncontrollably when you felt him plunge back in, harder, deeper, and faster. He bellows out in the depths of your gut while shoving his nose and mouth against your skin, still holding you by the thigh and neck. His hips thrust, starting off at a slow tempo, but taking no time to pick up the pace. In just a few seconds, you found yourself being lunged upwards in a jolting motion, all at high tempo.

In and out, his thrusts were graceful yet demeaning as he goes in each time with the intent on tearing you apart, feeding you the immense thickness of his length and girth. The sound of the bustling guests exiting and mingling outside of the house could be heard, all unaware of what was happening behind the large pillar that Heeseung had you pinned against. You so badly wanted to scream, it all felt too good. The way he had you bouncing upwards at high momentum, your hair draping and decorating the marble backing as he continued to shove and lift you to accommodate each thrust. Biting your lip, you couldn’t take it anymore and yelp out in desperation, only for him to shoot his hand up and cover your mouth as he did before.

“Shh….that’s my good girl.” Whispering against your forehead, his thrusts become harder and tighter as he reaches the areas of your body that you never knew could be obtained by a man. His length repeatedly hits a spot that causes you to yell out into his palm in a repeated motion as he goes in with so much ferocity. Your body goes limp, and you could barely contain yourself. Sensing that, he flings your thigh upwards and catches it, adjusting his grip as he scoots in closer while penetrating deep inside, leaving absolutely no distance between your heated bodies.

“Good girl…good girl…take it….keep taking it…..fuck!”

Feeling your walls pulsate did him in. You felt his cock throb with violent twitches as he buried it deep inside, releasing his warm, silky seed into you. The way you felt his length bend and flicker against your muscles, with the hot temperature of his children entering invigorated you, causing you to experience your orgasm. Your walls leak, vibrating out your ecstasy while he stays put for a few minutes; leaning back, he stares down at you with fulfillment in his eyes, they are no longer hungry. Satisfied under heavy lids, he reaches up and takes from his internal breast pocket of his suit, a silkened handkerchief. He pinches the corner, before whiplashing it to unfold as he slides out, inch by inch. Once you felt hollow, you felt the warm ooze of his labor dripping down your thigh. It was thick and white, mixed with the clarity of your body’s own solution produced from your orgasmic high. Keeping your thigh elevated, he takes a knee and drags the smooth silk against your skin as he delicately wipes up the residue, leaving a trail of kisses against your inner thigh upon cleaning you up. Dragging his tongue upwards, he leaves your skin spotless before standing straight up, placing a tender kiss on your lips. No words were exchanged, just acts of affection and softness to conclude the lovemaking. Throughout the night, Heeseung danced and kept you company, flashing a smile your way every so often, much to the dismay of your sisters.

“Why is Ethan dancing with her? I want to dance with him too!”

“After me first.”

Your stepmom subtly scolds the girls under her breath, pressuring them to focus on the more eligible bachelors that roamed the ballroom, no doubt heirs with big money behind their names. Yet the girls had a hard time shaking off the handsome Ethan from their minds, and only grew more frustrated as they watched him court you. Your father sips from his fine glass, and reassures your sisters as he issues a firm look over to your stepmom. “I’m sure it’s nothing girls. Go and mingle with all these other handsome fellas, I’m sure they’d love to dance with you two.”

“But dad! I’ve been telling you how long I’ve had a crush on Ethan, it’s not fair!”

Your father slides his stern look over to the girls; “I’m sure Ethan is being polite, after all, it's the first time your sister attended this event, he’s more than likely trying to make her feel welcomed since she doesn’t know anyone here. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

Glancing over to you and Ethan, your father smiles softly upon admiring the way you both flowed with the course of the musical piece being played. Whispering to himself, he quietly tells himself, “I’m sure it’s nothing…but love.”

…………………………….

The following week, you spent more time with Ethan. For a butler, he didn’t seem to be as busy as you would expect, especially considering the house was massive. Then again, your father did mention that he was the head of the house staff, and second to only him as the master of the household, so perhaps his duties were strictly supervisory with high authority. Either way, you didn’t mind that he was free to be with you the majority of the days, it was exactly what you had needed to recover from your previous partner. Ethan had heard about him, yet never brought him up, he never felt the need to. As far as he was concerned, you had him now, and that was all that mattered.

One day, you went out with your sisters to do some shopping. You took interest in the local food vendors that sold fresh produce, while your sisters were enchanted by the local boutique of their favorite designer brand and the release of the new collection. You interacted with the sellers, buying simple ingredients to prepare a nice meal tonight, for you and Ethan. You were surprised that your father hadn’t become curious as to your frequent absence at dinner, since you were spending each evening in private with Ethan, dining at the gazebo or at one of the guest houses. Perhaps he knew? Or maybe he just trusted you to care for yourself, after all, he never restricted you to a strict schedule, allowing you the freedom to provide for yourself whenever you needed.

As you walked the row of street vendors, a mysterious figure from afar eyeballs your movements. Stationed at the peak of a nearby tower, he aims and observes through a scope, attached to a sniper rifle. Being the only legitimate daughter of the Ambassador came with some ups and downs, and it would appear that your father had enemies that intended to cause you harm, perhaps as a warning for money or secured and private information that would affect national security. Blindly unaware, you continued on with your shopping, just seconds away from getting pierced through the chest with a stray bullet. A bullet…that was shot in silence, not a sound heard by the crowds.

Hunched over, bleeding, and choking out his last breath, the mysterious assassin slowly fades out over his rifle; a single hole in his chest leaks out the last of his vigor as his vision blackens. Across the tower, on the roof of a neighboring hotel, another rifleman kneels perched with his own weapon and silencer. Ejecting the casing out from the ejection port, a leather gloved hand catches the steaming hot brass; with his trigger finger is exposed, he releases and activates the safety switch on the weapon. Peeking through the scope, he watches the mysterious figure die out, then switches his aim over to you. Watching over you, his scope follows your every move, until Bittmerman pulls up.

“Miss y/n, it's time to get back. Your sisters are already in the car.”

You nod and smile happily. “Okay, thank you.”

Taking Bitterman’s hand, he guides you in the backseat where you are reunited with your spoiled sisters. He shuts the door and looks up to meet the eye of the scope, emitting a nod that implies your safety behind bullet proof glass and steel. Smirking, the rifleman lowers the gun and takes it apart. Chuckling to himself, he places the components of his rifle in a fine case before standing and watching Bitterman’s car drive off.

Taking his index, he bites the tip of the leather glove and pulls it off his left hand. Taking the brass casing, he flicks it up in the air before catching it with his strong hand, adorned with the fingerless leather glove. Rolling the brass in between his fingers, he admires it for a second before he preps to take his leave. Chuckling once more, he whispers under his breath, growing excited in seeing you upon his return home, knowing you'll be waiting for him.

“I’m just a butler… who likes to wear leather gloves, pretty girl.”

Taglist: aiden2001 , heeseung-min , lathan1510 , rayofsunshineeee

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huihuiheart · 4 months ago

Text

Hair Ties - Stray Kids - Hyunjin Historical AU

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Stray Kids Masterlist

Pairing: Lord/ Rebel! Hyunjin x Farmgirl! Reader

Summary: Harboring a rebel in your barn on a gut feeling turns into the best decision of you life when he becomes the most important person in it.

Warnings: Mentions of parent death, entitled men, rumors, fire, burns, cursing, almost forced marriage, war themes, rebellion themes, violence themes, unprotected sex, oral, light bondage, light dom/sub themes, Hyunjin slaps reader's thigh once, big dick Hyunjin. I think that's all.

Word Count: 8136

Rumors always flew around you, you’d been used to that ever since your parents had passed. No one to plan your future or care for your needs, at least according to society. You’d taken over the family farm though and one thing that was to your benefit was that all in town agreed your farm produced the best. Crops and livestock. Which is why their sons were always offered to be yours, so they said, but you knew you would be the one treated like property right along with your family’s land. Besides, there weren’t that many good options in town. That and townspeople rarely lasted more than a day on the farms. They considered themselves too good for you, too educated, even if the land and money appealed. They weren’t the only ones that came after you either. Ever since the rebellion started soldiers had been all over. They often came whether to search for hidden rebels or have a place to spend the night. Hence where most of the rumors blossomed, most thought they came to your farm not out of convenience, but for other ‘perks’ you offered. Not that there was any truth behind those rumors. You weren’t that type of person. You had no desire to sleep around, you wanted feelings mixed in. Not that the soldiers never attempted. Heck, some had even offered marriage, for your benefit of course. They said they’d be willing to sacrifice that much for your sake, and perhaps you should have taken someone up on the offer. After all, you weren’t getting any younger. What you didn’t know was that someone was about to come shake up your whole world and that it would be worth the wait.

You were in one of your smaller fields when you heard a commotion in the barn. The larger animals were out grazing, so it should only be the smaller ones in there, something having startled them all. Squealing, sounding out, and sending you running to see what it was. Only when you got there did you see nothing. No snakes or foxes, nothing that should have spooked them. Nothing at all for that matter. You had quite the intuition at this point though and noticed how they avoided a certain area, so you grabbed a pitchfork and headed towards where they avoided. Lightly moving it through the hay, jumping when it got you a startled yelp in response. A just as startled man sitting up out of the hay. His hair wild, half up, a few pieces of hair sticking out.

“Who are you?” You ask, pointing the pitchfork at him.

“Relax, I’m not here to cause any problems. I’m just trying to hide.” He answers calmly, putting his hands up in surrender.

“Wait… are you… a rebel?” You cautiously ask, but surely there was no way he could be a harsh, violent, aggressive rebel as they described. He looked so sweet, so angelic.

“Maybe.” He chuckles nervously, climbing out of the hay. Revealing a leg poorly bandaged beneath torn clothing, blood staining through both layers at this point.

Maybe it was his angelic face, maybe it was that you couldn’t turn away someone who needed help, but you sight, “Go to the upper level and hide there. Soldiers are all over here, but never upstairs, only down here.”

The man glances between you and the area you mentioned, nodding. He offers you a smile before crumbling up as quickly as his injured leg will allow for. You turn to calm the spooked animals. Only they don’t calm much when soldiers come barging in shortly after that. The captain among them is a familiar face.

“Hi Y/N. Sorry to interrupt, but have you seen anyone unfamiliar around?” The captain speaks to you as he does a quick look around.

“Your timing is truly perfect. A man just ran through here, terrified the animals, but then when I came he pushed past me and ran off. He was going to the north last I saw, but I also had to get the animals under control so I didn’t watch him for long.” You answer, making the mysterious man hold his breath initially concerned you would rat him out.

“Captain, should we conduct a search?” One of the men asked.

“No. Y/N knows what’ll happen if she betrays us.” The captain answers, hand reaching into a barrel of produce to snatch a persimmon to eat, winking at you, “Remember my offer always stands should you get lonely or need protection Y/N.”

“I know Captain Park.” You assure him, watching them leave with bated breath before trying to calm the animals again.

You jump along with them though when the man pops up over the railing, “Do they harass you a lot?”

You sigh and just over the door to the outside pen for the animals for now, “ I mean harass is a pretty strong word.”

“With how he just spoke to you and how he took your fruit without asking, I would say it’s a fitting word.” The man shrugs making his way back down after peeking out of the upstairs window, “ I should probably go now before you get into trouble.”

You sigh, cursing internally at your morals while he bows, “Come inside, your leg is in bad shape, let me clean that up for you before you go.”

You don’t give him time to argue, or for you to overthink things. Leading the way, putting tea on the stove while going to get your medical supplies. Clearing off your table to get him up there. The man moving his clothes away with no hesitation, while you instantly fluster, feeling your cheeks burn.

“Why so shy?” The man asks quietly from his spot.

“I’m just not used to such actions.” You admit even quieter, feeling shame burning in you as he covers his leg back up.

“Would it help to do introductions first?” He offers, “Or you could let me do it, if you want, so you don’t have to look?”

“No it'll be hard for you to do yourself, I can do it… I don't know if introductions will help or not though,” You admit, but he shows no signs of mocking or anything.

“ Well, no harm in trying. I’m Hwang Hyunjin. I’m a rebel captain with the Southern division. “ he beams at you, but the familiar name and the fancy clothes give something away.

“ Like from the Hwang family? You’re with the rebels?” you’re shocked, to say the least when he laughs and nods.

“ I certainly am, they couldn't buy out my morals.” he proudly states, giving you a turn to laugh now.

“ Well, that's admirable at least. You probably overheard it, but I’m Y/N.”

“ Nice to meet you! Thank you for helping me… are you ready to try again?” He asks and when you nod he moves the clothes again. You’re still feeling warm, but not as uncomfortable now. Carefully removing the ruined bandages next, wincing at the sight of the wound. While also trying not to focus on how firm his thigh is. Working efficiently to patch him up. Handing him some tea as well.

“ Is there any way I can thank you? Anything I can do for you before I go?” Hyunjin inquires as he gets up off the table.

“ No, no, I should have everything just fine.” You insist, helping him to stand again.

“ Well, I'll remember this and repay you for it one day Y/N.” Hyunjin insists almost as firmly as you before sneaking out and off. Sighing as you go out to try and make up for lost time in your potato field. Going back in after sundown to find a small bag of coins, the tie Hyunjin had in his hair, and a note.

‘ This is my favorite hair ribbon. I’ll be back for it, and when I am I'll thank you for all you did for me today.

Hwang Hyunjin’

You blinked at that somewhat stunned at the action, wondering if Hyunjin was possibly still sneaking around somewhere close by. Putting the note someplace hidden, along with the ribbon so that should soldiers pop up it wouldn't sell anyoneout, or put you at risk. The only real problem that it caused this way was that it led you to think about him. Why your mind kept wandering back you weren't certain. Perhaps it was just concern, after all, he was injured. Brushing it off as you that went about your evening tasks before turning in for the night.

It most certainly was not just concern if your dream that night was of any insight. You wondered how your brain could conjure up such salacious thoughts, and how it could come up with an entire picture of him nude when you had only seen a thigh. You shook it off though when you realized that beautifully scandalous dream had caused you to oversleep. Rushing up to get straight to work despite the ever-haunting thoughts of Hyunjin running rampant in your mind.

“ Excuse me.” You hear a voice calling from the edge of the field, an unfamiliar man there and you sigh before walking over to him.

“ Yes sir, how can I help you?” You answer, taking note of his dress.

“ Hwang Hyunjin sent me. He asked me to get a list of all the produce you sell as well as any other items. We are looking for a supplier for the … estate.” the man says, pausing enough before the word estate you have a feeling it is not actually for that. Still, if that is how it would be known to the public then it would really benefit you. So long as no one knew or found out that the Hwang heir was involved in the rebellion.

“ Oh, I don't have a list written down.” You tell him, thinking and hoping that he doesn't ask you to write one.

“ It's okay, just tell me while you do what you need and I'll write it. I don’t want to interfere.” He assures you, smiling brightly as he takes out a paper and begins to write whatever you list with some additional notes, “ Thank you, this is great. We’ll get back with you in a few days.”

The man left after that, refusing your offers for water or anything, insisting it would interfere too much with your hard work, something that had already happened the previous day with Hyunjin. Turning back to the crops and continuing to tend to them through the rest of the now quiet day.

It wasn’t until the next week that you heard anything else. A knock on the door that evening, a smiling Hyunjin standing there with some papers in hand.

“I’m not interrupting am I?” He asks, taking note of the pleasant smell.

“No, I was making dinner and doing some work still. Come in and sit, it’s almost done.” You assure, opening the door wider.

Hyunjin really can’t resist such a tempting offer. Making some small talk when you insist he is still too injured to help and should stay seated. Soon presenting a meal and joining him at the table. It is unusual, but not unpleasant to have someone else here with you. Hyunjin seemed to be familiar with some of the rumors pertaining to you now but was determined to hear your story from your mouth. Something else that you were not used to, but you enjoyed it. Someone showing a genuine interest in you, not in whatever came along with. Perhaps that was because he already had so much though, he had no true need for your things.

“I brought a contract of sorts here. It states what we would like to purchase from you on a continuous basis and for what price. Look it over and let me know what you think.” Hyunjin holds the papers out to you, brows furrowing when you don’t take them, “ What’s wrong?”

“I uhm…” You hesitate, embarrassed to admit the problem, but you also can’t make up an excuse, “ I can’t really read…”

If Hyunjin is shocked then he hides it well. Then again most women of your class didn’t know so it really shouldn’t be that shocking. Other than the words you had picked up from your experience in town though you had just never learned.

“Well I could read it to you, but really you shouldn’t trust what you can’t read for yourself. So how about we agree to each individual sale for the time being? I’ll come teach you to read if you want, and when you can read this then we can sort out a paper contract, sound good?” Hyunjin offers and while you’re embarrassed, the benefits of being able to read are coming to mind and easily outweighing that.

“Okay, I can do that.” You agree, setting up the first shipment with him, along with when he should first come to help you with reading. Only realizing he had left his hair ribbon still when he had already left. It was probably okay though, since he would be back soon.

You weren’t quite sure how to prepare for Hyunjin to help you read, so you just prepared tea for you both. Letting him in when he arrived and sitting at the table with him. Hyunjin spacing letters out on a paper to teach you that and sounding out. That was all for your first day so that you wouldn’t be overwhelmed. Hyunjin leaving you a few simple children’s books should you be brave enough to attempt that now. For some reason you kept thinking about it too, feeling the need to succeed for some reason, wanting to prove to Hyunjin that you could do it. Picking a book to practice repeatedly the next few days until Hyunjin would be back again. This time you were fully prepared too. Giving him his hair ribbon as soon as he entered, before leading him to the table showing him proudly what you could read from the one story. Him showing you another with similar words, only needing a little help with that one. Time passes like that. Hyunjin gives you a slightly more challenging one each time you succeed until you start to hit a wall. This one particular book challenged you as Hyunjin stood behind you, helping over your shoulder. Watching you continuously and frustratingly push your hair back out of the way. Hyunjin’s hands gently pulling your hair back and tying his favorite ribbon into it, so that it would stay out of your face. Continuing to attempt the book for a bit.

“Okay, I think that’s enough. Keeping on at this point won’t help. Go give your mind a break, there’s always time to try again later.” Hyunjin assures you, stopping when you reach to take your hair down and return his ribbon, “ Leave it, it looks pretty.”

It has to be obvious how that flusters you, but Hyunjin does not comment on it. He simply wishes you a good night and heads on his way. The next day the town is buzzing with rumors as usual, only this time they’re not about you. No, rumors were spreading of noble involvement in the rebellion. Sure no one had any proof at all, and even less on who from that class it could be, but they were out. Spreading like wildfire as everyone speculated who it could be. You get done what you need to in town as quickly as possible to go back home.

When going out to the field though you take Hyunjin’s hair ribbon to tie up your hair. Setting off to work for a while until you hear a tense and familiar voice behind you.

“Where did that ribbon come from Y/N? It’s obviously a man’s.” The captain speaks from behind you, making you whip around.

“Oh… it was a gift.” You say, reaching over your shoulder toy with the end of it.

“I make so many offers to you and you do this to me?” The captain scoffs and you feel your anxiety rise as his frustration shows. Only you don’t get a chance to respond when Hyunjin miraculously joins at that time, somewhat picking up on the situation.

“Hello flower, what’s going on?” He asks, coming around to stand at your side, hand hovering over the small of your back.

“Lord Hwang? What… What is this?” The captain inquires backing off some now.

“We’re courting captain, I hope for your discretion in this. We’re keeping it quiet until we’ve determined the true depth of our feelings.” Hyunjin speaks smoothly and if the captain is still upset he doesn’t show it.

“Ah, congratulations, I hope things go well. I’ll be on my way.” The captain forces out along with a smile.

Hyunjin waited for him to be gone before removing his hand, “I was coming to say I might not be around as much, but if he’s going to come harass you when you’re alone then forget it.”

“What do you mean Hyunjin?” You ask, confused by his statement.

“People are catching on to where we’re located so we have to be more careful.” He explains and you hum in understanding.

“Then do what you need to so you can stay safe. It’s fine,” You reply, but there is an upsetting feeling deep in your gut that you don’t understand.

“And give him an opportunity? Absolutely the fuck not.” Hyunjin says adamantly, the force with which he does stunning you, “ Don’t tell me it’s not that bad or that you can handle it. I know him, he doesn’t take no for an answer and won’t listen to you. So just let me help, please?”

You sigh but nod in agreement, really not giving any more argument on this. Hyunjin smiling and insisting you go inside and hydrate before you get overheated. The concern flusters you again as you smile feeling giddy at it. He doesn’t stay long though, soon having to return to the rebel camp, but promising to return that evening.

Only things don’t quite go smoothly for that. Seeing a weird shimmer out your window only to move closer and see everything on fire. Your fields, the barn, and trees. You rush over to open the doors for the animals, them rushing out with you behind, coughing at all the smoke, trying to wave it away from your face. You have no time to waste though, rushing to the well to get something … anything to put an end to all the flames. It’s too far gone at this point though. There’s no stopping it at this point you realize as you look around in a panic. Catching a glimpse of the captain from a safe distance, smiling dangerously at you before riding off. It’s closing in on your house now and you rush in, grabbing what you can quickly; seeds, family, memorabilia, your money, and a few other things before letting out a scream as a rafter falls not far from you burning. Your sign that you have to leave now. Running out, shielding your face with your free arm as you go, hearing a voice but not being able to determine anything about it over the roaring fire. Stepping out you realize you’re trapped by a burning line. Realizing now whose voice it was as you saw Hyunjin and a few other men with him on the other side of the fire. They used the few water jugs they brought to clear a narrow path for you. Hyunjin rushed in, grabbing your wrist to quickly drag you out and away from the flames. Panicking some when you start to cry watching the flames swallow up all that was left. He hugs you close to his chest, petting your head as you full-on sob in his arms. The men staying with you until the last of the flames dissipates into the darkness of night, your life left in embers on the land now. One of the men nodded at Hyunjin.

“Come on, we can’t stay here all night.” He speaks softly as if his words will be the final thing that breaks you. The other men ahead of you and Hyunjin as he guides you are your pace. Until you’re at their camp, Hyunjin breaks you both off to go to his spot, something more permanent than a tent, but not by much.

Hyunjin sits you down, disappearing for a moment before returning with a basin of water. You wince when he touches your arm, now registering the bad burn you have across it. Hyunjin’s touch is delicate as he fully exposes it, using a cloth to gently dab it with water. He then takes a cream and generously coats the burn. Then wrapping it all up carefully before looking over you for any other burns or injuries. When he’s taken care of anything he finds he dips a fresh cloth into the water. He then uses that to wipe off your face and hair first, cleaning them of ash and soot, then moving on to the rest of you before getting you fresh clothes from one of the women in the camp. Leaving you for a short while so that you can change and settle. When he returns the sight makes his heart clench. There you are, broken and injured, barely having had time to get what was precious to you. Yet, here you are with his book and hair ribbon in hand, offering them to him. He knew you had the ribbon since it had been in your hair, but the book was a shock to him. In your panic, you had remembered him and what he valued, including the memories he had tied with this book. The surge of emotions Hyunjin feels overwhelms him and he lunges forward to hold your face in his palms while giving you a deep kiss. Something you didn’t think that you would enjoy so much, but now that you’re doing it you don’t want it to ever stop. Sure it didn’t take the pain away, but it felt like heaven, like the sanctuary you needed right in this moment. A safe, caring, loving space. Something you had been lacking ever since your parents had passed, but not anymore.

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help myself.” Hyunjin apologizes when he pulls away, panting slightly as he tries to catch his breath.

“Don’t apologize for something we both wanted.” You counter, eyes fluttering shut, basking in the feeling of Hyunjin’s hand coming up to cup your cheek again.

“You want it too?” Hyunjin is uncertain as he asks, as if not truly believing it.

“I think it is pretty undeniable, even if I haven’t been admitting it to myself.” You answer, eyes still closed and missing the smile it brings to his face.

“It’s okay to have these feelings, you don’t have to do things merely out of duty,” Hyunjin assures and now you’re moving in to kiss him. Hyunjin easing into it and allowing you both a moment to express your feelings in this way. Then he’s giving you both some space again.

“We should stop before we take it too far.” He says, nearly giving in to the quiet whine you let out in response.

“I’m okay with going farther.” You assure him and Hyunjin isn’t sure where he’s getting the willpower not to give in now.

“Darling, I'm not going to make their rumors a reality and taint you in others’ eyes. I have too much respect for you to do that.” Hyunjin insists and it only makes you want him more, but you appreciate his desire to do this for you.

“You’re the only one who has shown me this consideration.” You speak so broken and it makes Hyunjin frown.

“Don’t get lost in your head darling, stay with me.” Hyunjin softly calls to you, as if to ground you, “Come, let’s sleep. You’ve had a very long day.”

You allow Hyunjin to guide you to lie down now, careful of your burnt arm. Everything catches up to you in the form of exhaustion and snatches you away to sleep. Once your body has slept enough, however, pain radiating from your arm is waking you once more. /getting up when you notice that you’re alone now. Peeking outside you don’t see Hyunjin, but the man that spoke to you in the field, offering you a smile when you lock eyes. His smile puts you at ease and gets you to venture out into the quiet camp.

“Good morning, how are you doing?” He asks, noting the bandages on your arm.

“Actually… I’m in a lot of pain.” You admit, making his brows scrunch.

“Give me a minute I might be able to help with that.” He tells you, scurrying off and leaving you alone for a moment. Then he’s putting a teapot beside the pot he has over the open flame. Grinding herbs and mixing a few other things in a bowl before adding them to a teapot. He steeps it, pouring you a cup.

“Here drink this and it should ease the pain soon.” He says carefully handing you the cup, “When Hyunjin is back I’ll tell him to add more ointment to your burns to help too.”

You fluster but not, taking the tea to sip on, “Thank you. Where is he by the way?”

“He’s on watch, he should be back soon.” He explains and you nod though his focus is already back on the food, “Also, I feel it’s kind of unfair that we all know your name, but you don’t know ours. So, I'm Felix.”

“Nice to more officially meet you, Felix.” You smile, sitting near him, feeling comfortable with him around even as unfamiliar faces begin to join. Hyunjin eventually made his way there as well.

“I see you found the breakfast spot.” He smiles as he takes a seat beside you.

“Yeah. Felix and I talked a little, he made me some tea too.” You tell him, holding up the cup to show him.

“He told me. I’ll help with your bandages after we eat, but you need food to get your energy back.” Hyunjin says and you nod knowing he’s right.

“Afterwards, I want to go see if anything is salvageable and get back to work.” You tell him and his expression shows his concern towards doing that.

“You need time to recover.” He insists despite hearing the adamance in your voice.

“Yes, but I’m not going to give him that satisfaction.” You respond as Felix walks over with two bowls of food for you, picking up on that part of the conversation.

“Good for you!” The sunshine boy praises before going back to getting people fed.

Hyunjin chuckles, shaking his head, “That’s fair, just don’t push it too much, and someone should be around to keep you safe just in case.”

“That’s fine, I won’t push too much until I’ve had time to recover.” You agree, eating quickly before going to get ready and look for anything salvageable. Hyunjin and Felix tagging along as you go. For protection, but also to help if at all possible.

The boys head to the barn, looking for any metal or glass pieces that survived. They collect them up in one empty space outside of where the barn had been. While you look through the house for anything that survived having determined that while the cellar doors had burned away everything inside was safe. Keeping your expectations low so that when only some things survived you would hopefully be emotionally prepared.

“We can help you to rebuild,” Hyunjin assures you, and you nod.

“I know, but it won’t be the same. I mean…. My parents built that house…. That barn… it’s where they raise me, but now… now I don’t even have that.” Your admission crashes over them, showing the full impact this had on you.

“Y/N…” Hyunjin starts softly, pulling you into him again, “He’ll get what he deserves. I swear it. Even if he’s smiling now. He can’t just do this and move on with his life as if he’s innocent.”

“Hyunjin don’t go and do something stupid for my sake.” You say, busy focusing on what all needs to get done. Hyunjin gently grabs your wrist and turns you towards him. Palm gently cupping your cheek as he does.

“It is nowhere near the stupidest thing that I would do for you.” Hyunjin counters, before continuing as he sees the concern in your eyes as a result, “Besides he needs to be stopped to make a change anyways. I’m simply more motivated now.”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes a little, “Still… you can’t get hurt for this. Okay?”

“Whatever my lady says.” Hyunjin agrees, leaning forward to lay a delicate kiss on your forehead, “Now let's see what we can get done, hm?”

You all work as late as the sun will allow you to. Making decent progress, but still nowhere near what you would need to be able to return home… or to get the crops started for the next season. Knowing that you’ll have to rely on the little you had to sell and the kindness of others to make it through.

“Come on Y/N, let's go back to camp.” Hyunjin urges once the sun is mostly set. Encouraging you both to go while there’s still some light.

“I’ll make us something tasty!” Felix adds trying as he usually does to bolster everyone’s spirits.

It works for now though since everyone is famished after all of today’s work. You and Felix get into a friendly argument over whether you can help him with the cooking tonight or not. Felix eventually wins on the stipulation that you teach him some of your family’s recipes on another occasion. The sunshine boy has proven particularly stubborn on this. Still, when you began to smell his cooking all complaints were gone. Everyone ate their fill before separating for the night. You make your way to the nearby river to bathe. Hyunjin comes when you simply have a towel and flusters.

“I was just coming to check on you… make sure nothing happened,” Hyunjin says, looking anywhere but at you as he continues to fluster.

“You wouldn’t have to try and protect my honor like this if you just married me.” You tease him though to an extent you mean it.

“It’s a little early for that isn’t it?” Hyunjin asks, not pushing the thought away, just shy as he chuckles nervously.

“Hyunjin, you're teaching me to read… you’re helping me rebuild my home… hell you pulled me from a fire. I don’t think it's too early no.” You counter, smiling at him when he shyly glances at you.

“Fair enough, but I really can’t marry you right now Y/N. If I got revealed in any way with the rebellion and we’re married they’ll have your head.” Hyunjin shakes his head.

“What if I’m okay with taking that risk?” You counter and Hyunjin has to stop himself from caving that instant.

“Y/N… love… I would deny myself any of my desires to keep you out of harm's way… something I unfortunately haven’t yet managed to do… just please don’t make this any harder for me.” Hyunjin practically begs knowing that he is a weak man. When you nod he kisses your forehead before taking off so that you can get dressed. Something that you do quickly before returning to his tent only to find that he’s out on a watch.

The days continue on like that. Some are going with you each day to assist with rebuilding. While Hyunjin seems to avoid time alone with you knowing how strong of a temptation it would be. You were becoming harder and harder for him to resist. Especially when he saw how you would step up and care for various ones in the camp. Things were becoming more and more tense every day as they all felt this rebellion coming to a head. Knowing something had to be up when Chan came over to talk to you alone.

“Y/N… is your home close to livable again?” He asks and your heart stops.

“I’ve stayed too long, haven’t I? I’m sorry.” You apologize before actually knowing what’s going on.

“No, that’s not it. We’re just going to start moving all non-troops out of camp soon. Things are getting too risky.” Han assures you as he explains further.

“Oh.. yeah I should be just fine going back home.” You assure Chan, though your heart aches some to leave them, knowing that it was going to happen at some point. You’d grown so accustomed to being with everyone all the time that the thought of being alone again hurts. Chan reaches out to ruffle your hair a little.

“It's okay we won’t let anything happen and will be back before you know it.” Chan does his best to reassure you. Chan was always encouraging and speaking reassuringly, optimistically, even if he didn’t necessarily believe it himself.

“You better be.” You try to sound threatening as the man chuckles and hugs you. Something else you would surely be missing soon.

Going to find Hyunjin now, only he gets to you first, “Hey, I heard from Chan. He said he talked to you. I can help with your things.”

You let him know that it would give you both time alone, “Will you really not marry me before this is all over?”

Hyunjin gives you a soft look, “Couldn’t even let me wait until we finished moving you back…. No, I won’t, but…”

He gets down on one knee, holding out boxes of expensive gifts that he would have traditionally given to your family to you, “That doesn’t mean I won’t propose to you. So….Y/N will you marry me?”

You’re both laughing a little because you already know the answer. Still, you give him your affirmative and accept the box. Hyunjin gets up to kiss you sweetly, keeping it brief so that neither of you gets carried away.

“You know what this means though right… you have to come back to me in one piece now.” You tell him adamantly, only making him laugh a little more.

“Nothing could keep me away at this point.” His assurance of that is what you lived on. Days… weeks… passed. Things are far too normal for you as you work to rebuild your life. Hearing reports whenever in the town of the large battles the rebellion was waging against troops and the government. The cities involved getting a breath of fresh air whenever the rebellion forces their tyranny out. The tides were turning in favor of the rebellion, as was public opinion. Unfortunately, that only further angered the government, them getting desperate and just trying to do as much damage as possible.

Your world comes crashing down when a harsh banging hits your door. Opening it to find no one there. Simply a note with the general’s seal on it. Revealing how he had discovered Hyunjin’s ties to the rebellion and that if you didn’t want him killed you would instead marry the general. Something that you hoped was all an empty threat. Only to realize when a tear-stained Felix and distressed Changbin came to your door that Hyunjin had been captured. Leaving you with no choice, but to follow the directions on the note. Showing up to see the wicked grin on the general’s face.

“I am glad to see that you aren’t entirely without reason Y/N.” He tells you only to frown when you pull away from his reach for you.

“Prove to me that you have him and that he’s okay first. Considering you’ve been rather untrustworthy lately.” You insist, glaring at him. He simply rolls his eyes and snaps his fingers and soon enough soldiers are dragging in a battered and bruised Hyunjin. The sight breaks your heart. They’re all watching you closely, but you have to move closer… You have to be sure there’s no lasting harm done to him. When you ensure that you look him in the eyes with your own teary ones. He goes to speak… to comfort you and simply coughs harshly.

“Hush… it's okay.” You assure him or attempt to anyway. Carefully slipping his hair tie from your frazzled, windswept hair into his pocket, “Everything is going to be okay.”

You stand and face the general again, ‘Okay, I’m here. Now let him go.”

“You haven’t married me yet, so I don’t think so.” The general counter and you roll your eyes.

“Lock me in a room or whatever, but you can at least give me a proper wedding. Or can you not give me that even?” You goad and he curses at the way you come for his pride.

“Very well…” He turns to his soldiers, “Bound her hands and then let Hyunjin go.”

Hyunjin hesitates until the general places a dagger to your throat and hisses at him to leave. The soldiers lead you to a locked room once he is long gone. Leaving you alone in your thoughts. Only truly able to accept that this is what your life would become knowing that it had saved Hyunjin’s life. The wedding is scheduled for two weeks out and you are locked in one single room for the entirety of it. He truly was trying to go all out with this when an entire lineup of servants came in to get you ready to be wed. Never having felt more lonely than now as you’re surrounded by people who truly do not care about you. Reluctantly walking down the aisle towards the general. Only you never make it as chaos breaks out when you’re about halfway to him. Your eyes widen at the familiar group of men that burst through the doors, taking down any soldiers who stand in their way. Hyunjin soon grabs your wrist and runs out with you calling to the others who follow behind. Your extravagant hanbok flows behind you as you hold tightly to Hyunjin as he leads the way far far from the general. Only stopping when he gets you home, which is now guarded by soldiers of the Hwang estate.

He smiles at you as he helps you down off the horse, “Sorry that I ruined your beautiful wedding.”

You know he’s joking, but can’t help rolling your eyes, “Ruined it? You saved me from a life of that hell.”

“Well, I couldn’t let you marry him just for my sake. Not when I want you all to myself.” Hyunjin says, tying his ribbon back into your hair.

“Are you still going to make me wait to be yours?” You ask, pouting and he delicately tucks your flyaways behind your ears.

“Just a little while longer love. Then I’ll be all yours. Besides… what kind of husband would I be if I had to run off right away anyways.” Hyunjin gives you a point that you can’t really argue with.

“Fine, but that better means that when you’re back you’re here with me. No more of this going and getting kidnapped stuff.” You insist, “I’ll just have to come get you again.”

“Don’t worry… the next time you walk down the aisle it’ll be to me,” Hyunjin assures you, leaning in for one last sweet kiss before he leaves you again. Something that makes your heart ache even more now since you’re concerned about his well-being after the general’s actions as of late.

You do your best to keep your days occupied, something that wasn’t particularly hard as you were still recovering from the damage done to your land even nearly 4 months later. Still, nearly constantly your thoughts wandered to Hyunjin who constantly cared for you even from so far away. Having provided protection, finances, books, whatever might possibly be necessary in a time like this arrived at your doorstep, but never alongside him. Something that was about to have you go absolutely insane to the point of leaving to go find the man yourself. Until news hit that the war was over. The rebels had won and things were set for change, even if it would take time. Your breath nearly sucked from your lungs at the news, along with a declaration that the general alongside any other prominent men would be executed for the crimes they committed against the people. You didn’t care all too much about that though as your feet moved before you could think, racing out of the town back to your home hoping Hyunjin would already be waiting for you there. The man barely got to smile at you before you had all but launched yourself into his arms.

“You’re back.” You nearly sob out though still trying to determine if this was simply another cruel dream or not. Hyunjin’s hands come up to cup your cheeks gently, making you look into his eyes.

“I’m back.” He assures you before his lips are on yours, “I’m never leaving again either.”

“You better not or this time I’m coming after you myself.” You muse earning a laugh you’ve been longing to hear again. “Now when are you going to make me your wife, I’ve waited far, far too long.”

“I know love, just give me enough time to arrange things, hm? I want to make sure you get the wedding you deserve even if we’re both impatient now.” Hyunjin’s words make you huff softly, but you learned early on that the man had a romantic side and so you feel yourself allowing him to have whatever he desires in that regard without much fight, this is just one such case.

“You better hurry it along though.” You pout and he chuckles with a nod. He makes no move to care for such things now, however, staying by your side well past sundown. Never making any moves though you would have allowed him to.

Hyunjin didn’t keep you waiting long, quick to arrange things for your wedding. Chan smiles at you as he offers you his arm, having agreed to walk you down. Feeling very differently as you see Hyunjin waiting for you teary-eyed that the last time you were in this position. Getting rather choked up as well, your Hyunjin was safe and waiting right ahead of you about to be your husband. His hand reaches out for you to take and close the gap between you. His eyes are only on you the whole time as this finally happens. The two of you celebrate with those close to you in the same woods where everyone had been hiding out all those months ago. Felix makes sure that you are both well-fed before getting wrapped up in the festivities. It was perfect and yet it was not where your focus was as you watched the joy on the face of the man you danced with. Waiting for the song to end before leaning in.

“Let's get out of here.” You whisper barely audible over the music, but he picks it up. Nodding at you with a giggle before grabbing your hand to run off everyone cheering behind you. The two of you rush along the familiar path from the woods to your home. Your hands on one another, giggling as you reach the house. “We could have gone to your place. It's much nicer there and all.”

“It’s not home though.” Hyunjin counters as he leads you through the house, placing soft kisses on your face and neck, “I’d rather do this at home than any place full of the nicest things.”

Your heart swells, eyes glittering up at him until he carefully turns you around to undo your dress’ intricate arrangement of ties and buttons. Helping you to step out of it after he slides it down your form.

“You’re the most beautiful thing that I’ve ever seen.” Hyunjin already sounds breathless as he takes you in. This time it’s you who is closing the gap and pressing your lips together.

“I could say the same about you.” You mumble against his lips as you work to get his clothes off as well. He allows you that before he’s gently pushing you back.

“Get on the bed for me love, there’s things I don’t think I can wait any longer to do.” He says watching you move to lay back as he desires while he ties his hair up out of the way before joining you on the bed. His eyes darkening at how wet your panties are, licking his lips as he peels the fabric off you. Settling himself between your legs, hands keeping your thighs firmly apart for him. Hyunjin takes in the sight of you for a little longer before he places a soft kiss on your clit. It is immediately not enough for either of you though.

“Be good for me my lovely wife.” He says before his mouth is opening wide and everywhere all at once as if trying to devour you whole. His tongue is everywhere as his hooded eyes watch intently for all the expressions you make for him. Only he growls when your hands come down to try and move his face closer, not appreciating how you try to interrupt his pace. He pulls away fixing you with a glare as he licks your arousal from his lips. Reaching up he takes his tie from your hair where it still always is, pinning your wrists above your head before securing them with the tie.

“You will be good for me.” He says more forcefully, an edge to his voice now before he returns to what he had been doing moments before. You are no longer able to act in a way that would impede him. Not that he was trying to deny you or anything, he simply wanted to drag things out a little, allow it to last longer after such a wait. Staying between your thighs well after you’ve cum under the guise of cleaning you up when really it’s that he cannot get enough. Then he’s up to kiss you deeply not that unlike how he was just acting with your cunt as he allows you to taste yourself everywhere on him. It’s taken that dark edge down a little bit, but he still doesn’t release your hands yet. When he removes his underwear you’re glad for how long he drug out oral seeing exactly what your new husband had been blessed with.

“Just breathe love, I would never hurt you… except in ways you would enjoy.” He winks, playfully slapping your inner thigh and smirking at your moan. Pushing your thighs a little higher as he gives himself room to coat his cock in your sticky essence before slowly working in inch by inch as your body is able to take it. Only once he’s in and adjusted you to the feeling with slow, shallow thrusts does he release your hands. Landing against you with a huff as you instantly pull his form against yours needing the feeling of his skin all over yours. Hyunjin moans hotly into your ear as your nails dig into his back.

“I’m not going anywhere ever again love, I’ll always be right here from now on,” Hyunjin assures, kissing the side of your head as he starts to move faster, worked up as you moan into his ear. “There you go love, give it all to me. You’re mine now.”

“Been yours.” You reply back immediately and it has Hyunjin gone, quick to reach down and rub your clit knowing there’s no way he could last now. Both of you go over the edge as you cling tightly to one another.

“I’ve been yours too,” Hyunjin replies breathlessly between pants as you undo his hair to card your fingers through it. Only he was far from done with you for the night.

You wake against Hyunjin’s chest, his fingers petting over your hair as he watches the sunlight filter through the window before smiling down at you. Even exhausted you know that look anywhere.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask softly, shifting to look at his face better.

“The future.” He admits though what exactly about it he leaves out leading you to sigh.

“Leave the future to the future, we’ll figure it out together when the time comes. Just worry about the right now.” You insist, sitting up and moving to straddle him, “And right now your wife has needs.”

Hyunjin chuckles looking at you with heart eyes, “Yes ma’am.”

#kinktober 2024 #fic: hair tires #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin angst

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amarmoria · 1 month ago

Text

Love and Legion│Act Ⅰ

Summary: 𝑳𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂 𝑨𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒖𝒔 adopted you almost 14 years ago, after a catastrophic invasion of your country from the two tyrannic Twin Emperors of Rome, only just two years after sending her son away, she can't help but feel pity and guilt at a little child who was just a years younger than her son should've been right now and in an indisputable argument with some of the senators, she successfully stole you away from the hands of your unknown parents.

Lucilla meets her beloved husband and courageous General, 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒖𝒔 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒖𝒔 many years later, and marries him in hopes of finding protection and love she once seeked in another-- and she did of course. Only a few years later when tensions began brewing between you and your beloved 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒑-𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, a tension that should not and should've never existed in the first place.

And even more chaos prevails when 𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐, a Gladiator brought by the war catches your mother's undivided attention. You don't know why she's so interested in some vicious gladiator until you confronted him to cure the growing dislike h̶a̶t̶r̶e̶d̶ you have towards him.

𝑨 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒑-𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒖𝒔 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒖𝒔 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑳𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒖𝒔 '𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐' 𝑽𝒆𝒓𝒖𝒔 𝑨𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒖𝒔 𝐹𝑖𝑐

➪ 𝘿𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘿𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘗𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘺.

➪ 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘴 𝙁𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡, 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙡, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦.

➪ 𝙉𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘎𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳 1 𝘢𝘯𝘥 2.

➪ 𝘌𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴.

Series Masterlist

Realm's Delight the poets willed you, just not long after Lucilla rescued you from near death. Despite the hushed whispers of resistance, no one dared to speak up against the Princess of Rome. And not long after she brought you back, the people were singing and celebrating outside your home, holding festivals and carnivals.

And of course, the twin emperor's annual gladiator pit was a way of celebrating your new 'birth' as the 2nd princess of Rome, though the title was quickly obliterated and made it as it is now.

Over time, the twin emperors grew fond of you and dubbed you as Emperor Geta's 'Dundus', which your mother was greatly offended, but chose to keep mute on the subject, not wanting to anger the two.

Your mother always dresses you in the most grand gowns. Never would one catch you dead in a garment made of wool or linen, gods let them see you or Lucilla will be their end. You had maids assist you everywhere you go, not like your mother lets you go out when you were 8 of years, but when you do, there were not less than 6 of them hovering around you, much less than your Equites (knights), if you think the maids were suffocating, how much more was your battalion of hundreds, exaggerated obviously, but it was how it looked like in your eyes before.

Your magistra, or they also call it teacher, was your mother’s when she was a child, she didn't trust anyone outside to teach and govern her only daughter, so it was her until you grew old enough to have her removed.

And as trees withered, you grew, the young girl hiding behind her mother's skirt has departed but not forgotten, for people would always remember her, like your very first name day, though it was the 6th name day in your honor, everyone had gathered in your mother's gardens while you stuck yourself in her bosom the whole time, you would not leave her until they all left for their beds.

She laughed the whole night, maybe even now if you would remind her. She told you she loved you not any less than her son. The older maids told you when you pestered them that the princess has never been this happy in those 2 years she 'lost' her son. Of the cause of losing her son, they did not speak. Others say that he was assassinated the night following Maximus' death. But every maid and knight tell other tales, or many of such tales, each differs from the other, so you learned not to listen to their story of theories.

"My lady," your focus broke as a voice cut through your thoughts. "Huh— what?"

"Ah, the silk, my lady. Might I inquire as to the color that would best please you?"

You give your maid a smile before leaning in the stall to browse the silk sheets. "Hm,"

"I do like that one," you point to the baby blues, then your eyes get caught on the burgundy.

"Oh, how splendid this shade of red appears! Truly, it is a vision of beauty." Your other maid sang, and all the others nodded and agreed. "Very well. We shall take the burgundy, the baby blue, the pink, and the purple adorned with gold, if you please. My thanks."

You were about to reach for your money when the maid pulled out a bag of coins that was clearly from your mother and handed the merchant the payment.

"Thank you, Aemma. " You bowed your head slightly in her direction, even though you obviously didn't need your mother's money. Aemma had been your maid since your mother took you in. Only being a teen when she was hired, she quickly gained your favor and your mother's. The both of you grew up together and your friendship remained steadfast throughout the years.

"Shall that be all, Princess?" The merchant says, handing your maids the boxes of silk. "It is. I bid you good morrow," you bow and smile. You wait until the maids situated themselves with the boxes before you continue to stroll farther down the market.

You pull the hood of your cloak over your head, shielding your eyes from the scorching sun. You opted to wear a lighter and thinner fabric than you usually use because of the heat that's been torturing Rome for a while now; you wonder if someone angered the sun god for Rome to suffer like this.

You sigh as you fan yourself harder. Your gaze falls on the structure, its gigantic walls impossible to ignore. The Colosseum. Every day, gladiators from every corner of the world fight there, a place you’ve been wanting to visit but have been strictly off-limits, thanks to your mother and Acacius.

Every one of your friends had already watched a gladiator fight once while you didn't even get to step near it, a curse or a blessing?

A—

"..Bullshit,"

You hear your maid's gasp behind you, except Aemma, for she's already used to you. Your hood fell from your head, exposing you to the heat, but you did not pay care, your focus remained on the grand Colosseum, towering and timeless, there was a time where man didn't even know how to make a fire, and now you stood in front of its arches, carved by centuries of wind and whispers.

"My lady?" You snapped out of your reverie, turning your head over your shoulder to look behind you.

"Are you coming?" A knight says. You looked back to the colosseum, then back to your maids and knights.

Your shoulders sagged as you turned your back and departed, disappointment etched in your every step.

"Let's go." You murmured, they followed behind you as you dejectedly turned in the direction of your house. But just before you could take another step, Aemma pipes up.

"Ah! The General returns home this day, my lady."

𓃗

You dressed yourself for bed, the not so sheer fabric sliding across your body as you yawned for the umpteenth time of the day. You're just so bored these days, even shopping does not entertain you no longer.

He's coming today though. The thought gave that spark in your eyes. You won't be so bored anymore, just watching him entertains you, but isn't that his role though? To entertain the emperors in their futile attempts at making Rome great again, you wonder why he tolerates their company. You can clearly see the disgust on his face whenever they say something.

You sat on your vanity, lighting the candles one by one. Then you took your hair out of its style, carefully removing the ties and clips embroidered in by your mother, then untangling the knots. You let your hair free for the night as your arms stretched up. Maybe today's shopping did tire you, but still it did not amuse you.

You took tentative steps towards the door, softly opening it and closing when you got out. Then you jogged quietly to the sitting room, careful not to wake Aemma, or she'd be obliged to stay with you until you slumbered.

You sat down on the sofa and waited for the time to pass. The hours seemed to stretch on like an endless, quiet hum in the background. You played with the board game, then read a book to which you abandoned after almost falling asleep. You peeked out the window yet again, but still no sign of him.

You let out a small sigh, shifting uncomfortably on the soft sofa, your mind wondering at the patterns in the room. You grew bored enough that you started pacing circles around the low table.

You don't know how much time had already passed as you were already fast asleep on the couch, your hands under your chin supporting it, your mouth wide open as you drooled on the pillow.

You only heard the gates creaking open, and the sound of hooves running in, but you were too tired and weepy to even open your eyes that you succumbed to slumber. Then you heard his heavy footsteps approaching you. The deep rumble of his voice as he spoke of something you didn't make out. One second there were voices and another you were in the air, hands secured under your neck and knees, lifting you up. He didn't even grunt or struggle, like you were something inanimate.

"..amor.. here.. go," you frowned, but remained still, not like you could wake up. You could only hear a few words, barely clear, and that was it all before you completely slept in the darkness.

𓃗

"He called it, The Dream of Rome,"

"Dream of Rome?"

"Yes, where good people rule instead of the big, bad people."

"Wow! I want that too! I want to build the biggest statue of you and I'm, I'm gonna put mine beside it! I'm gonna make sure that all the people in the world are rich! A-and I’m gonna give the money to the people outside too!”

"Me too, Carissima" Lucilla kisses your head. "Me too."

𓃗

"No, I heard the emperors are to host a private gathering later, where two gladiators shall fight for their amusement!"

"What, truly? Ye cannae be speakin' in jest! I’m certainly goin’ to see this for meself!"

You rolled your eyes, eyeing your unfinished bitter tea.

You woke up with a start earlier, your hair disheveled and dried drool on your chin. Your memory was hazy from last night, but you definitely don't remember sleeping in your room, and you surely don't sleepwalk, do you?

"Lady Aurelius~!" You snapped from your thoughts when you heard that bitchy voice beside your ear.

"What." You say. Clenching your jaw as you gripped the teacup. "Coming with us later, or are you going to chicken out again?"

You grip the teacup till your knuckles almost turn white as their shrilling laughs reach your ears. You absolutely don't 'chicken out', you scoff. It's just that your mother doesn't like you wandering off and risking yourself getting in harm's way.

But you certainly don't chicken out, no way, and you're undoubtedly not going to ruin a quarter of your reputation to these degenerates.

".. I shall go." You wince as they jump off their seats, clapping and howling as they excitedly 'plan' the escape. Most of the parents of your friends have not less than the rank of patricians and nobles, so they are also on high prison level monitoring, but yours was the highest in the friend group, if you can even call it that.

"Okay, sae this is gaun'ae be our final plan fo later, we must arrive in this designated place after 4 hours sharp, enouch time for ye tae escape, got it??"

"Sir yes sir!"

"Aye!"

"Let's go battalion!"

𓃗

"I shall catch up on my rest. Please, do not disturb me!" You yelled, making sure it echoes around the place so it reaches everyone.

You exhale in a short, hurried breath, dusting your disguise as you turn your head to Aemma, who dressed up as you.

"M-my lady, this far is t-too dangerous, my lady will have my head—"

"Fear not, Aemma. I shall return here you can even blink."

"But my lady—"

Without letting her finish, you stood on the edge of the window, gripping the blanket you tied together into a makeshift rope tightly. A thick blob of sweat slid down your forehead, your breath hitched at your chest as you tried to steady yourself.

There isn't going back, anyway.

And for the last time before you violate the very thing your mother was so strict about, you glanced over your shoulder at your maid; she was dressed in your most expensive gown, her hair hidden beneath the veil you gave her. While you were dressed in her daily attire as a maid, the both of you switched closets just after you had convinced her for nearly an hour. You can tell she wants to stop you, but who was she to do that?

And turning your face to her, you clutched the blanket tightly in your two hands, it's fabric rough under your fingers, slowly, you lowered yourself, feeling the fabric tug at your hands as you began to slide down, the rope beneath you swaying from side to side, you held your breath trying to discern if your mother heard, after a few seconds of nothing, you continued your venture.

Your hands were beginning to hurt and turn red from the rope, but you're too far ahead to back out, so you quickly doubled your speed and not long after your feet finally hit the ground. You celebrated internally, huffing and puffing with your hands on your knees.

You looked up to see Aemma looking relieved, you smiled and waved at her, to which she returned and shooed you away.

She mouthed you the word hurry before you quietly ran for the gates.

Good thing you weren't that tired tonight or you would've given up running halfway across the yard. Another thing, though, was the gate. If you open it and it makes that loud shrieking sound, you're dead.

You frowned and looked around, trying to think of something, anything. You were almost out of wits when you spotted a huge stone just beside the wall.

Thank the Gods.

You let out a deep sigh of relief, your shoulders slumping from the tension escaping your body. You almost thought you had to go back and just accept death, but good thing the Gods were with you.

You jogged to where it was, the rock was slippery, but enough for you to stand on, you just have to grip the wall and jump over.

You groaned as you lifted yourself from the rock, holding onto the wall like your life depended on it. After regenerating your lungs, you swung your right leg over the wall, then pulled yourself up to sit on the wall, then you swung your other leg over, and like sitting on a tall chair, you hopped off the wall.

Your landing on the ground felt so good your knees gave out and you landed on a soft patch of grass. Beads of sweat filled your forehead, and you wheezed, panting heavily.

But you have to hurry. The other set of guards were already arriving in minutes after a small break from their shift. You looked up at the sun. 10 minutes.

Enough time for you to run out of the estate.

You took a deep breath and pushed yourself off the ground, your legs pumping into motion. Then you took off, your legs pumping as soon as you took your second step, the air was cool, but speed quickly warmed you up, you were sweating almost everywhere, but you couldn't stop, the rhythm of your breath matched the beating of your heart.

In the next few moments, you could hear your heart beating from everywhere across your body, the sound of your feet hitting the ground, and the weight of seconds passing by.

Every step was sharper, harder. You swore the ground almost shook. The clock in your mind ticked down, 10 minutes—you could make it. Your muscles burned, but you didn't slow down, obviously.

And finally, you reached the bustling market of the main city. You guys were supposed to meet up behind the bank. You frowned and looked around. With all these people, it would take you half a year to get to it.

Your eyes scanned around until you found the enormous building up ahead. You were just about to jog to the back when you felt a sharp push on your shoulder from behind. The unexpected jolt threw you off balance for a moment, and you stumbled slightly before catching yourself. Whipping around, you saw who had bumped into you, a mix of surprise and annoyance flashing across your face.

That was before you realized it was a knight of high status, much like your knights but this one was bigger, more bulked. He scowled in your direction, you quickly siddled backwards, he was beside a carriage with a cage behind it. It was withered and old and rusty. You had expected an animal or maybe food for delivery inside, something small, easily handled. But what surprised you was something much bigger. There, sitting on a wooden, worn bench, was a man. His arms rested on his knees, and his head hung low, as though in silent prayer. You blinked, trying to make sense of the strange sight. Your gaze lingered a moment too long, and suddenly, as if he felt your stare, his head shot up. His bright blue eyes locked with yours, and your breath caught in your throat.

Your eyes widened in shock, but his expression remained unreadable, unblinking, as though this moment was nothing new to him. His glare burned holes right through the back of your head. You willed yourself to look away from the man, his gaze overwhelming.

You were roused from your thoughts when another guy in armour knocked into you, sending you stumbling backwards yet again.

"Fucking—" he hisses, brushing off his armour. "Move aside, whore." He spits on the ground near your foot.

You gasped and involuntarily stepped back in shock. Whore?! You are not a whore! You've never even kissed someone! Much less go whoring around!

You clenched your jaw. "Excuse me but I am not a whore mister."

He halts his movements. "Big mouth for slut like you huh? Bet you could fit the whole of Rome in there," he snorts, his laugh ugly to the ears.

"I beg your pardon—" The slap landed hard on your face, you clutched your cheek and winced as it stings from the touch of your hand.

"Tch, that's what screaming whores get from me. Now move aside, harlot"

A shakey breath disguised as a scoff escapes from your mouth, both your hands clutching your tender cheek.

What you didn’t notice was the piercing gaze of the man, unwavering and fixed on you as the scene played out in front of him.

𓃗

"Oh—! Good gods! We've been standing around for ages waiting for you!"

You pant, your cheek still tender but less puffy and red. "M-my apologies. I had—"

"There is no time for such nonsense; let us proceed!"

You exhaled heavily as they ushered you to hurry behind them.

"Ugh, I'm so focking excited!" Squealed the girl beside you.

"Shut your pie hole, Alyssa! Should we be discovered due to your loose tongue, I shall your arse once and for all!" The ginger in front of you whispered. If you weren't so distracted by what happened earlier you would've laughed at them and their antics, they always were bickering like children ever since you met them, but honestly, as the only children of their respective families and being cousins wasn't so shocking when they would clash their heads off.

Not long after, you finally arrived at the 'party'. But the party was certainly... Unique.

There were these almost naked exotic dancers on poles. They wore thick and clumpy makeup but still made it look good. Their attire was.. quirky, resembling a jester but the fabric was of silk which was very expensive.

Then there were tigers chained to the walls in cages as people gaped and checked them out.

Almost everyone was wearing masks, except the servants, and of course the emperors, they were cheering and howling loudly as they conversed with their... Escorts.

You cringe inwardly, shuddering in repulsion as one of them licks Emperor Geta's neck.

"Oh. My. Word!" your friend behind you whispers. "Indeed! This is truly extraordinary! I find it most delightful!”

"I have never attended a gathering of this nature!”

It was said the two emperors would often engage in.. unconventional parties. One of those was this.

No one would say anything more in front of you but you heard they did things here, in an unusual but particular way, but you didn't understand what they meant until this. Maybe they meant how wild the guests and the party were?

"Look! Look! It's starting!" Your friend exclaimed, tapping your shoulder as she pointed at the center of the room.

A hush fell over the crowd and a man with gold crowns and green robes entered.

"My emperors! Ladies and gentlemen! And senators," he bows dramatically, whipping his head down as his hands stretch outwards to the side. Then he flicks his head up like he had hair, then proceeds strutting around the center.

"For your entertainment," he pauses, looking around proudly like he owned the crowd. "The art.. of combat!"

The crowd gasps in awe, as well as your friends, who murmured in astonishment.

"May I present— The Barbarian..." Your gaze is immediately fixed on the man as he enters the room, though you could not see him clearly as you were at the very back of the crowd, the people were towering over one another as they wrestled for a look at the barbarian. Moments later the crowd erupted into a flood of cheers and claps.

"What's happening?" You whispered to your friend, who was also busy hollering.

Alyssa, who was nearer to you, replied. "The barbarian and the renowned warrior are about to engage in combat!"

You bit your lip and stood on your toes to get a better view of the fight, but as you do, so did the others, so now you're stuck in an endless domino effect with the greedy people in front of you.

"I— can't see—" you choked out. It was getting real tight in the back when you started hearing the punches and grunts.

"Oh! Goodness!" Alyssa gasped. "What is it? What is it?"

"He just shattered that precious vase upon the other man’s head as though it were of no consequence!"

"How would you know it is of such value?"

"Pray, it is simple! My mother owns one as well! The artisan crafted but fifty of them in all the world!"

Each blow and strike sent the crowd into a frenzy of gasps and hollers, their excitement building with every move.

Seconds later you hear a thud echoing around the room, you see a pillar from afar slightly shaken. And not long after a loud bang was heard across the room, the crowd gasped, either at shock or amusement, or both.

But you, on the other hand, just did not feel it. You came all this way and struggled for what seemed like so long, violated your mother, and you couldn't even see what you battled for.

The audience clapped for what you assume was the winner, then the sound of a sword clattering on the ground.

"Remarkable! Remarkable!" You hear Geta clap.

As the emperor began walking to the winner, the crowd began pushing and pulling in front of you, wanting to take witness to the event transpiring, and so it results in you getting pushed away and abruptly separated from the rest of your friends, you tried gripping the hood of the one nearest to you only for your arm to be swatted away by some bystander.

"H-hey! Guys!" You yelled, but the crowd was too loud and they were too distracted to take notice that you were already drifting away from them.

"Stop!" You clutch the hood of your cloak, careful not to reveal yourself as the crowd pressed in around you, constantly shoving and bumping as they moved, making it hard to stay balanced.

"Guys I'm here!" You yell yet again, but tour attempts are futile when the crowd easily overpowers your voice of alarm.

Mere moments after you're struggling when the crowd pops you out of them, finally getting the chance to breathe without smelling their uncured body odors.

And just as you thought you were free, a firm grip seized your arm, yanking you to the side before you could react.

"W-what! Stop! Help mmphm!" Your eyes widened as you were met by a knight, one with the same armour as the guy who called you a whore but it wasn't him, he was bald and the knight holding you now wasn't.

"Are you a servant in this establishment?" His gruff voice says. "W-what? No, certainly not—!"

And before you get a chance to speak, he drags you with him deeper into the hallway. You pulled and tugged on your arm from his deadly tight grip, but no matter how hard you did, he didn't budge.

While you kept writhing and struggling beside him, you already arrived in a room, he yanked the door open, impatient to get in, your eyes flicker to the jail-like door which his other companion opened with a key, once it was open, he dragged you inside a bathroom like room, complete with a tub, sink and toilet.

Then your eyes fixed on a man in the gigantic tub. He also seemed surprised at the commotion when his eyes opened sharply, scanning his surroundings and finally landing on you.

"Do your job, whore," the knight grumbles. You yelped as he shoved you on the ground, your hands slipping on the wet floor and just falling on your face.

"This is preposterous!" You yelled, groaning as you held your nose. You felt a trickle of liquid down your nose, your eyes widened as you saw the blood dripping on the floor.

"My n-nose!" You pushed yourself from the floor, your hood sliding off your head. "Urgh,"

"Who goes there?" You hear the man say, a low grumble in his voice. "Do not inquire of me, for I am the one cast into this place!"

You rolled your eyes as you turned to look at him. You looked up and stilled, the blood still dripping down your nose.

He's the barbarian? You were locked in a staring contest with the barbarian, his glare unwavering while yours were shaking.

"Y-you're.." your mouth opens in shock while still clutching your nose.

"I'm what?" His eyebrow raises up. "You're, the, b-bar—"

"Barbarian?" He scoffs but says nothing further, flicking the coins on the tub to the ground.

You huff. "Tch, rude.."

"What'd you say?" He tilts his head upward, not sparing a glance at you. "I said get me out of here."

"Pray, tell me, why would I do such a thing?"

"B-because—!," you shoot him your best glare, hoping he'd follow, but a deep, rumbling chuckle echoed from his chest, a sound that seemed to vibrate the air with a dark, almost animalistic undertone.

It wasn’t the kind of laugh that invited warmth or joy—rather, it was low and menacing, like the growl of a predator stalking its prey. The sound felt heavy, as though it carried the weight of something far more dangerous lurking just beneath the surface.

"Very well, Your Highness. What benefit would it bring me to set you free?" He spoke coldly. "Hm? Did the man not give you a direct command to perform your duties, or was that only me?"

You scowl, jaw clenching over your growing irritation.

"Release me, I implore you." You grit your teeth. But still, he didn't budge, ignoring you completely.

What the fuck is his problem. It was already noon and your mother might've already sent Acacius's battalion to find you.

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