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sunderwight · 10 months ago

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AU where there's no system (or a decidedly less restrictive one) and Shen Yuan transmigrates into an OC rogue cultivator before the start of the novel, and decides he's gonna steal the protagonist before Luo Binghe even gets to Cang Qiong.

The logic is sound -- he'll keep Luo Binghe from experiencing neglect and abuse at Shen Qingqiu's hands, raise him away from the pressure of the sects and the likelihood that anyone else might find out about his heritage and try to harm him over it, keep him fully away from the Immortal Alliance Conference, and then Luo Binghe's course will change trajectory because he'll have no reason to want revenge against the world and no access to Xin Mo. Shen Yuan will be able to spare Luo Binghe some suffering and possibly survive in a world less subject to the harrowing whims of a half-mad tyrannical overlord. Win-win!

However, the tricky bit is that he's not sure exactly how far ahead of the novel he is, and also Airplane didn't specify where Luo Binghe grew up. This means that Luo Binghe could be any age younger than twelve and in any number of places along or near to the Luo river.

Shen Yuan decides he's going to approach this by pretending he is looking for the long-lost son of his sister, traveling through the likeliest areas, asking after abandoned children who might fit the protagonist's description. It's a long shot, he knows, and he's mostly relying on the existence of Narrative Destiny. But eventually he is directed by several people towards a particular city, which is not as close to the river as he'd have expected Luo Binghe to grow up, but then again he only knows that was where baby Binghe was found, not where the washerwoman who took him in ultimately lived.

It becomes clear to him, though, that he's been sent to the wrong target. But also why he's been sent astray is apparent in nearly the same breath, because among the slave children living in this area is a little boy who could be his much younger clone.

Seriously, this kid looks just like him! Or, well, close enough. He looks a lot like Shen Yuan's actual nieces and nephews from his past life. It's uncanny.

Also, because of his search, the slave kids get wind of what he's looking for (his long-lost nephew) pretty quick. The boy with the obvious resemblance to him greets Shen Yuan's own assessment with wary cynicism, but he's just a little boy. So it's not difficult to notice the way he's also practically vibrating with hopefulness, half-hiding behind a protective older kid and looking at Shen Yuan with big dark eyes like he expects to be rescued or destroyed with whatever he has to say next.

Shen Yuan has a big problem now. He just knows that if he says something like "actually no this boy is too old to be my nephew" or whatever other excuse, no one will believe him, and also this poor kid is going to be permanently scarred by it. He's going to think Shen Yuan is lying just so that he can reject him. On top of that, he's not in a good situation here. None of these children are even remotely well cared-for.

Shen Yuan's rogue cultivator self isn't rich on the level of being like a wealthy sect leader or anything, but he's made some money since transmigrating by doing random cultivator jobs and quests along the way here. He uses it all to purchase two little slave boys (Do Not Separate), then takes another job and uses that coin to acquire a somewhat rundown manor which used to belong to the local gentry. The Qiu family (rings some bells but that's not exactly an uncommon name) kept it up for a while in case a branch family sprung up in need of a residence, but they've been in decline and the place is downright decrepit, so they had been looking to sell it instead. It's too big for a wandering bachelor like SY to ever need on his own account, but that's sort of the idea. He makes more money taking on cultivator work, at first taking his boys along with him for lack of any alternative. Nerve-wrackingly dangerous! Eventually he hires workers to start restoring the manor, particularly setting up a yard to be a school area, and then starts taking on any freelance jobs he can get in order to steadily buy out the contracts on all the other kids. He gets it nice enough to house and care for as many orphans as he can acquire.

Not because he's a big old softie though!

His story of looking for his nephew is a bust now, since he's apparently "found" the kid. So he's got to change tactics! If he can't find baby Binghe and the washerwoman, the next best approach is to create an opportunity for them to come to him. So once he's got his new household established, he starts offering free lessons to all the local kids. Not just the ones he's taken in, but also any who come by and want to learn some things. It's a tempting setup for anyone who wants their child to get education but can't afford a tutor, and Luo Binghe's mother had been entirely the sort of person who would have packed up and left her situation if there had been an opportunity for it.

On that note, SY also starts hiring single mothers to help look after his new gaggle of children and do the work he doesn't know how to do in these times, like keeping house, laundry, cooking, actually raising kids, etc.

His "little school" is not universally popular. A few groups try and ruin him, because the poverty in the region provides a basis of business for them. The ringleaders of the human traffickers in the area don't want their trade to dry up, even if it means selling all of their merchandise for this round, so when they find out that their underlings let Shen Yuan buy off all the kids they try and intimidate him into returning them (it doesn't go well for them). The Qiu family also isn't thrilled after it becomes clear what he's doing, and get him investigated by the local authorities (read: use their bribed officials and local goons to try and interfere.)

When that doesn't work either the sects get involved, because the Qiu go crying to Huan Hua Palace that Shen Yuan is sketchy and is trying to establish his own sect. So Shen Yuan talks his way around the matter, and frankly the Qiu are small fish even if they're the biggest ones in the local pond, so HHP doesn't care to pursue things much further. (Read: SY could mop the floor with the disciples they sent to investigate him, and it's not worth it to piss off someone this mysterious and powerful just to bully some impoverished children.)

Shen Yuan is appalled by all this bullshit though. Trust the world of PIDW to make it so hard just for a guy to teach some poor kids how to read and do math!

It makes him dig in his heels about it, because he is at heart a stubborn bastard. The fires that once fueled a thousand angry screeds on zhongdian literature site is now aimed at the local magistrate. One of the women he's hired on has some dirt on the Qiu family, which leads SY to dig up some more until he eventually has enough to turn the tables on them. Local officials won't investigate because they've all been bought, but that in and of itself is of some interest to their superiors closer to the palace, and so SY arranges an investigation of his own that goes way further than he thought? Turns out there are some ugly skeletons in the Qiu closets, and the imperial investigator comes down on them hard.

Well, he can't say they didn't have it coming? Though he does feel bad for the children in the family, especially the oldest son, who gets hauled off to jail along with his father. At least the girl is sent to live with relatives. Maybe he should have done more to shield the minors in the situation...?

His kids tell him not to worry about it, though, that apparently young master Qiu was known to run people down in the streets and beat his servants and do other cartoonishly awful things. SY's not sure how much of it is true and how much of it is his little flock of fluffy sheep trying to ease his conscience, though they do all seem to take a lot of vindictive delight in the whole affair. Especially Nephew, who clings to his sleeves and loudly declares that the investigator should have publicly flogged the discredited nobles so that everyone could go watch, and then begs him for sweets as if that wasn't a creepy thing to hear come out of an eight-year-old's mouth. SY just sighs and tells him he can have something good when he finishes his calligraphy practice.

Of course, it's not exactly easy running what is basically an orphanage-slash-school (and maybe a budding sect...?), especially when pretty much all of the kids have been traumatized and faced stuff like rampant dehumanization, food insecurity, abuse, and neglect. Hiring single mothers soon becomes not only a plan to try and lure in Luo Binghe's mom, but an absolute godsend of an idea because SY has no clue WHAT he would do on his own about the discipline issues or emotional breakdowns or acting out that some of the kids get up to once it registers that they're in a safe enough place to unpack their baggage.

Apart from Nephew, SY's favorite kid is the one who came with him, the oldest of the flock of former slave children. He's the big brother of the group, the one who tries his best to look after the others and to not make any trouble himself. But even poor Little Yue is still just a kid who has been through too much, and he also eventually starts having some meltdowns and struggles with processing everything that has happened to him as a vulnerable child in an unkind world.

SY really didn't mean to start a trauma center for mistreated children!

Though, that's still not necessarily a bad thing for Luo Binghe to one day come across, provided he ever actually shows up...

Eventually, Shen Yuan does figure out that he must be ahead even of Luo Binghe's birth, though he still doesn't put together that he's interfered in the scum villain's backstory. Probably something even more amusingly obscure, like the creation year of some random artifact Luo Binghe used in some wife plot or other, tips him off and he mentally throws his hands up in the air. He's got to wait DECADES? Maybe he ought to try and find Luo Binghe's biological parents and just follow them around at this point!

Not that he can, now, though, because he has to make sure no negative IQ villains (who will probably just be cannon fodder for a subplot one day) decide to send goons to literally burn down his orphanage. Also if he's gone for too long his kids get upset. Probably because no one else is as weak to their puppy dog eyes and pleas for treats and toys as he is.

At least it gives him time to shore up his position, and train Nephew and Little Yue more extensively in cultivation. Despite his initial assurances to HHP that he was but a humble orphan wrangler who was only incidentally a cultivator, Shen Yuan does also teach the other kids some basic cultivation exercises. There are a few reasons for that.

One is just the principle of the thing. No, these kids don't all have the potential to become great immortals or anything, but they can still learn some of it and it's good for their health if they do. The only trouble is if they try and push too hard or attempt things beyond their range, and that's a risk with everyone who cultivates. Or even just exercises!

Another reason is that it helps stave off the jealousy that some of the kids have towards those with more cultivation potential. Teaching a lot of the basics all around makes it into just another topic at school. Some kids might not be as good at it as others, but those kids might also be better at math, or memorization, or board games, and while cultivation can open more doors to people as adults, for the children this is generally enough to satisfy their sense of fairness. Or at least reduce outbursts and fights.

Finally, the impression that any of SY's kids might be a cultivator also makes wicked people more reluctant to try and abduct or interfere with them. Cultivators are revered and nearly mythological figures in the public consciousness. It isn't difficult to see why, if even a rogue cultivator NPC like SY* can mop the floor with most random muggers (*Shen Yuan is not a normal rogue cultivator). Not many people want to risk bringing SY's ire down on them, but of those who might chance it if he wasn't around to immediately react, even fewer want to risk that the kids themselves could kick their asses.

Not knowing that only two of the orphans probably could in fact mop the floor with them helps keep all the rest safer, and is more believable when all of them can conduct themselves enough like disciples to fool anyone who doesn't know what to really look for.

Developments that surprise Shen Yuan but wouldn't surprise anyone else who is paying attention:

People start leaving unwanted babies and younger children on his doorstep. Not all the time, but more than once has he had to frantically find wet nurses and worry that he's changed things enough that some fishermen might just randomly drop the protagonist outside his gate, and he wouldn't even know because Binghe would be a literal infant??

Nephew (SJ) and Little Yue (Yue Qi -- only Shen Yuan calls him "Little", especially when he gets taller than SY by the time he's sixteen) are prodigies who get really good at cultivation, really fast, and between that and Shen Yuan's OP skills they completely warp Shen Yuan's ideas for what normal cultivation potential looks like. This would probably cause more problems if he wasn't teaching all the kids how to cultivate anyway, but means his students actually do kinda run the usual range of skills for a small sect.

SJ and YQ swiftly reach the point where they need more advanced equipment than just SY's teaching can provide, if they're going to keep building their skills. Gaining access to certain tools, aids, and materials (like spiritual swords) is a real hurdle though, and usually is for rogue cultivators (one of the major disadvantages of no sect affiliation.) Shen Yuan is hesitant to use stuff from the plot, since it's For Binghe, but he eventually caves and starts going after some things that he doesn't think the future protagonist will miss much. He also ends up buying stuff from HHP, since they're willing to sell things like spiritual tools and weapons if the price is right, whereas most other sects like Cang Qiong reserve them for members only.

They get an invitation to the Immortal Alliance Conference. Not the one where the Abyss opens up, obviously, the one where (originally) Shen Jiu reunited with Yue Qi and killed Wu Yanzi. Shen Yuan debates on going but the boys really want to, and things have calmed down enough that no one's trying to burn down the school whenever he leaves these days, so eventually he figures it'll be interesting to see some of the Cang Qiong characters and should be safe enough if he keeps his disciples close.

They don't run into young Yue Qingyuan or Shen Qingqiu on the trip, but Wu Yanzi does show up and get killed, and SY only hears about it and assumes they just missed all that action. (WYZ just got caught by some senior cultivators who recognized him and killed him to avenge some disciples he murdered.) Nephew and Little Yue do meet young Liu Qingge, Shang Qinghua, Mu Qingfang, and Su Xiyan though! Which gives Shen Yuan the opportunity to tell them all (mostly Su Xiyan) that if they're ever in trouble near his school, they can come to him for help. Hint hint.

This open invitation ends up being accepted broadly by a lot of traveling cultivators after the conference, who from then on treat Shen Yuan's school like a free motel whenever they're passing through. Plenty aren't even people SY met, but it seems his statement was taken as a general one to fellow righteous cultivators all around! Luckily, this has some advantages. Shen Yuan has no qualms running off anyone who tries to take unfair advantage of him or especially his kids or staff, and no shame in conscripting anyone who is decent enough to help teach his students, even if it's nothing to do with cultivating, and somehow word gets around and people start bringing school supplies, medicine, food, or other useful things along with them as gifts to help repay the hospitality. Young Liu Qingge comes by a lot on his way to and from various quests, or even seems to just turn up randomly sometimes (he comes to challenge YQ and SJ to fights), and SY's just like "I guess this is happening now" and teaches him to recognize the early signs of qi deviation and advises strongly against meditating in caves.

At one point a young Shang Qinghua turns up in one of the spare rooms, very obviously hiding an ice demon. Shen Yuan again is just like "I guess this is happening now" and shelters them until Mobei Jun has recovered, and sends a message to Cang Qiong that one of their An Ding caravans was attacked and their disciple is recovering under his roof but isn't well enough to travel yet. Much less stressful situation for Airplane (who is desperately trying to figure out what he did to manifest SJ's benevolent uncle from somewhere???)

Su Xiyan seems like the only person they met at the Immortal Alliance Conference who doesn't turn up at their door in a state of emergency at some point.

A few years later, there is a big scandal involving her and the demon emperor. Su Xiyan disappears, Huan Hua Palace accuses Tianlang Jun of plotting against the righteous sects, and Shen Yuan is even invited to the meeting where they try and rally everyone to go kill Binghe's dad. Naturally, he declines to participate in the witch hunt, but the major sects agree to it. By luck (or narrative fortune) Shen Yuan comes across Zhuzhi Lang on his trip back home, and mentions the ambush and his distaste for it (not knowing who ZZL is). ZZL warns Tianlang Jun and the confrontation goes very differently, especially since there's no Yue Qingyuan wielding Xuan Su.

It doesn't go well for the sects involved. Huan Hua Palace gets decimated. The Old Palace Master gets killed. Shen Yuan is like uhhhh that's... whoops? Didn't Luo Binghe need that in the future?? Fuck.

But the sect isn't wiped out completely, they just take a massive beating. Some of their younger disciples end up leaving and turning up on Shen Yuan's doorstep, for some reason. The manor house is becoming too small to account for all of these foundlings! They have to expand. Though the expansions would be a stretch to term a "palace" they end up occupying a much larger chunk of territory, and even investing in farmland and some storehouses to help support the sect. That's still not really a sect, of course. Even if a lot of the business that would have normally gone to Huan Hua Palace starts coming to them instead. Once HHP is back on its feet the stream will probably dry out. Probably?

Zhuzhi Lang starts hanging around. He's actually looking for Su Xiyan or their baby, dead or alive and per Tianlang Jun's instructions, but he uses Shen Yuan's school as base camp for his kind of hopeless efforts to find any traces of them, while also looking for ways to try and repay Shen Yuan. All the kids are just like "oh great, another weird man has fallen in love with Shizun -- someone go run interference" about it.

Some years later, an older woman and her young son turn up. Shen Yuan's off on a quest at the time, so SJ receives them. As is standard procedure he gives the woman a job and places the boy in classes, after giving him the aptitude tests. The kid is cute and precocious, so SJ uses him to distract YQ while he himself sneaks out to go join LQG on a monster hunt (and claim the valuable parts of the beast's remains for himself), and neither SY nor ZZL notice anything until SY's going over the paperwork for stuff he missed while he was gone. Since he procrastinated, it takes him like a week to find out that Luo Binghe is finally under his roof. He's going over the admission form right when SJ arrives with The New Adorable Child to try and distract SY enough that SY will let him go on a solo hunt -- as far as being distracted goes, it is way more effective than even SJ anticipated.

Then he has to figure out how to let ZZL know, so that ZZL can let Tianlang Jun know, so that Luo Binghe will have more family than just his mom and more resources than just a shabby little not-sect! But even once he figures it out and sets up the dramatic reveal, TLJ is just like "great! so can he just stay with you? he's probably fine there" which... irritates SY.

SJ fully conscripts Luo Binghe as a minion in his many cons. He never lost his street kid conman tactics, although he now uses them less as a ruthless survival tool or weapon and more to just get things to go his own way. LBH has the face and disposition of a little angel, which SJ no longer can pull off as a full grown adult, so he fills a gap. LBH also knows full well what's going, especially since a lot of SJ's tactics involve throwing LBH at SY like a smoke bomb.

Luo Binghe inevitably still develops a big fat crush on SY, so this is fine by him. Especially when he gets older, he starts bringing SY tea and making him breakfast and running his errands until even SJ is like "wait a minute, this little brat's stealing my job!" and by then it's too late. Luo Binghe is SY's personal assistant, the disciple at conman puppydog eyes has surpassed the master! While SJ was busy being like "I'm going to trick this idiot into doing my chores" LBH was going "I'm going to trick this idiot into giving me his job".

SY takes too long to officially name his school so everyone calls it the Shen Sect, much to his embarrassment.

#svsss #scum villain's self saving system #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #scum villain #long post #bingqiu

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thewritetofreespeech · 2 months ago

Text

pairing: Aemond x Reader

summary: your husband leaves for a hunting trip, but before he leaves he provides you with a gift to keep your fealty secure.

tags: heterosexual sex (m/f), chastity belt [fictional c. belt usage, don't come for me], oral (female receiving), cowgirl, aemond is a meanie to his wife, but also a sweetie, mentions of the other members of the Green but not present.

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The bells seemed to have not stopped ringing for days now.

First, to herald the new prince, Maelor, into the world. Then to call his father home.

Aegon had overheard of the Baratheon tradition of going hunting before the birth of a child. Claiming a new stag and presenting the pelt to the mother, which he thought was a splendid tradition. The hunting, not the presents for the mother; although any excuse to get out of the castle was Aegon’s ultimate goal. He assembled some of the finest hunters he could find, or at least on such short notice, and sped off into some forest while his wife labored through the end of her pregnancy and had her toil finally ended in the wee hours of the morning.

You were happy for Helaena. To have her child here & health and her agony ended. But also, selfishly, that your own agony might be ended too.

Your husband had gone with hers. Aegon insisted that family should be involved in this new process he was creating, and made his brother come with him for the hunt. Aemond did not fight him too hard. He too would look for any excuse to leave the castle, particularly when his half-sister & her family were around, and enjoyed hunting like any man of arms might when the opportunity struck.

However, before the princes left your husband presented you with a gift that had turned your ill-planned parting into a tortuous affair.

“I still don’t see why any of this is necessary.”

Aemond paid you little mind as he fastened the last strap and locked it. Admiring his work as he sat back on his heels. “I feel that my fidelity is being called into question.”

“It is not your fidelity, dearest one.” He told you. Standing to his full height above you as he slipped the key into his pocket. “A beautiful woman, alone, for some days’ time without her husband. I am protecting you from those less virtuous than you.”

You frown and drop your skirts. “Oh please.” As if anyone would dare touch you, or even glance in your direction too long, with Aemond the Fierce as your husband. Even before your marriage he had managed to scare off any suitor or admirer that came near. Deciding that you would be his and he would not have competition on the matter. His jealousy had not gotten any better since you were married, but luckily you found it endearing; in an odd, Targaryen ‘take no prisoner’ kind of a way. “I will be with your sister most of the time anyway whilst you are gone. Unless you think her a threat now?”

Aemond smirked. “I don’t know. Helaena does have a weakness for the oddest, cutest things.” He leaned in to give you a kiss, which you return despite your sulking pout.

“How am I to relieve myself with this thing?”

“There is a small hole.”

“Charming.”

“The point is that you, nor anyone else, can relieve you.” His hand came up to cup your cheek. “Not until I get back.”

You frown at Aemond again. Once again feeling your fidelity was being called into question, but now also your virtue. “Please. You think I am some nymph unable to curb my baser instincts while my husband is away? That the moment you leave I’ll just start humping the couches like a dog.” The prince scoffed. Amused by your joke. “I will be fine Aemond. I am sure I can last a week without ‘relief’ as you put it.”

“See that you do.” He gave you another kiss. Longer this time and you kiss him back properly, without the pout, as you realize this was your goodbye kiss. “Tell Helaena to push out that babe sooner rather than later. I’d hate to have to miss you by the time it’s all said and done.”

That had been a tenday ago, and you had been eating your words since the sixth.

At first, it was fine. You were indeed busy tending to Helaena. Keeping her comfortable. Keeping her entertained. You had not yet known the joy of being with child, but from where you were sitting across from her it seemed not to bring the joy often described. Your situation did not get problematic until night fall.

Alone in your bed, you had trouble falling asleep that first night without Aemond beside you. His gentle breathing not at your back. Had your bed always been this big? The second night sleep came a little easier, though you still missed your husband. By the third night, you really missed him. You suddenly realized that since your marriage not more than three days had gone by without Aemond sliding to your side of the bed to lay with you. He was not the braggart like his brother or other more crude lords at court, but he was quite the vivacious lover; when properly motivated by affection and praise.

Now alone, you were suddenly aware of your body and how much it had changed since being with Aemond. How, in a way, he had conditioned you for him. Before it would have been no problem for you to go without such pleasures, but now you seem unable to make it not 3 days without touch. Coupled with the fact that you couldn’t do anything about it with the damned belt on you were all the more frustrated in your situation and desired nothing more than for Aemond to come home.

You watched as the gates opened and Aegon’s party rode in. The horses galloping to a halt before the procession stage. No dragons this time. Aegon said it would take the sport out of.

The newly anointed father leapt from his horse and bounded up the steps of the small stage to Helaena. His eyes & smile bright as he looked on his newest son, Aegon took Maelor from her arms gently to hold him for the first time. It was all rather endearing.

Your attention turned from the happy scene to the steps again as they creak under foot. Aemond’s tall, lean frame now in full view. You find it difficult to breathe all of a sudden. As if your chastity belt was suddenly wrapped all the way around you like a corset. You grip the arms of your chair tight to stay strong and stay still. Aware that you were still in public and in front of your family after all.

“Look brother! Look at my new son!” The second prince walked over to his brother to look upon their newest addition. Giving his new nephew the smallest hint of a smile as he looked down at him. Your core quaked violently.

“Congratulations brother. Well done, Helaena.” The princess smiled shyly at her brother, and their mother seemed pleased for once at this happy moment.

Aemond snapped and made some sort of gesture at a servant, who scurried up the steps and handed him some ivory pelts from a chest that Aemond then gave to Helaena. Foxes, perhaps. Or maybe rabbits. You couldn’t be sure which as your sister-in-law gushed over their softness and color while you smiled & nodded along. Your mind completely focused on Aemond. He was so close now. You could practically smell him. The iron. The leather. The sweat & sun from riding back this afternoon. You have to swallow to keep the drool pooling in your mouth from leaking out. You had to get out of here. You had to get out of this…thing!

“If you’ll excuse me, I must wash the road off and rest in a proper bed if I am expected to entertain later.” Aemond’s voice cut through your thoughts. As if he heard you.

“You do not wish to stay and see the babe?” Aegon asked. Holding his new son up with a look of ‘what could be better than this?’. You could think of a few things, but as a lady you held your tongue.

“He’s not going anywhere, is he?” Aemond jest. To which his mother rolled her eyes and he kissed Helaena on the cheek. “I will see him at the feast, I’m sure.” He turned and finally looked at you. You felt your heart stop and your skirts grow moist before he offered his hand to you. “Come wife.”

You take his hand, digits trembling almost as much as that first time you took it, and stand. You kiss Helaena’s cheek on the other side, wishing her congratulations again, before Aemond lead you off the stage and into the palace. Luckily, by fate or design, the procession meeting ground was near your apartments. So it was a quick walk before you were at your door. They open for you, and Aemond only let out a stern “get out” to the servants, who only have mere seconds to flurry away before you were on each other. Your lips crashing against Aemond’s along with the rest of your body as you back him into a corner against the door like you felt you had been backed into all week.

“Get this fucking thing off me.”

“My, my, such language.” Aemond was grinning maliciously, but pridefully, down at you. “I leave for just a week and my sweet wife’s lips turn into that of a Braavosi sailor.” You gasp, nearly pant, as Aemond brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. Seeming fascinated by them. As if they were some intricate puzzle for him. “Did you miss me, issa jorrāelagon?”

You whimper as the High Valyrian rolls off Aemond’s tongue. Your thighs shivering as at the thought of it and those delicious purrs between them again. “Yes. I did.”

He seemed pleased. “I missed you too.” He kissed you again. Slower, sweeter, deeper this time, rather than tongue & teeth. It was a good thing Aemond’s arms were securely wrapped around you as his kiss made you swoon. “I would think of you every night.” His lips brush against your lips, your cheek, your chin. His hands caressing you softly everywhere as you stared dimly up at Aemond. Drunk from him. “While Aegon and his pack rutted with their camp followers, I would go to my tent and think of you. Stroke my cock along with your key around my neck, think of you waiting for me, until I could no longer take it anymore.”

You whimper & whine at Aemond’s words. A part of you elated to have that effect on your husband, but part of you also extremely jealous. You had been forced to wait while he had not. That seemed entirely unfair and should be corrected immediately.

“Aemond…please. I’m tired of waiting. Please take this off me so I can be your wife again.”

Your prince smiled at you. Pressing you back now as you kiss this time towards the bed. You had intentionally worn the simplest dress you had to the arrival. Beautiful in design and beadwork, but nowhere near the detailing of lacings and ties most of court lady fashion had. All with the intention of Aemond being able to get it off you quickly, which he succeeded at, and lay you on the bed. “Hells. You look radiant.”

“Aemond please…” You beg again. Bosom heaving. Your skin on fire at even the briefest touch of his fingertips against your calf. Tingling in your nakedness in front of him, save for this accursed belt.

He took pity on you it seemed and opened his vest with a few quick snaps. Producing the key from around his neck. He still kept it there, it seemed. Aemond gave you a long look, as if holding on to this final, torturing moment with some perverse pleasure at your suffering, before he undid the lock and helped you out of your ties.

You moan, loudly, with your head tilted back as it finally came off. Release from the belt was almost as pleasurable as the full release you were surely about to receive. Your skin able to breathe fully. Your limbs one with themselves again. It was enough to make your head spin, only to be brought back to you when you felt Aemond spread your thighs and kneel before you.

“A-Aemond! Wait! I haven’t washed properly in---mph!” He doesn’t seem to care.

Though you had bathed regularly since your parting, the belt made it difficult to clean yourself fully. Trust in this, you had tried. Every angle. Every side. Every idea imaginable to get around this accursed thing, but to no avail. Aemond seemed unbothered by this as he devoured your cunt like a starved man. That skilled Valyrian silver teasing your clit. Making you squirm on the bed, to the point that Aemond had to hold your thighs apart to the point of bruises. Gods, you hoped for bruises. The shift from no attention to this sudden onslaught was enough to drive you to madness. Overstimulated, you cum quickly with a sharp cry. “Oh Gods…..!”

Aemond doesn’t leave you until your walls stop quaking around him, then he lifted slowly from between your legs. “Still sweet as ever, issa jorrāelagon.”

The prince stripped out of his clothes with a speed you did not think possible of their usually intricate clothing. You bit your lip. Core throbbing even though you had just climaxed at the sight of your husband. Lean form. Alabaster skin. Pure white save for the hard, blushing cock pointed out at you. “Aemond…”

He chuckled. Probably finding your lust blown eyes and subconscious spreading of your legs for him amusing. “So needy.” He was enjoying this. Enjoying tormenting you with his fine figure and devilish smirk. People often whispered about how cruel Aemond was. You never believed them. But perhaps you would have to amend your thinking on the topic as it was cruel to have him on offer now and still make you wait.

He crawled on to the bed and on top of you. Your lungs filling with air and releasing in a sigh as you feel his weight on top of you. How you had missed even this part. To be close to your prince. To have his presence mix with yours. Not just the sex, but the intimacy was something Aemond had trained your body to as well. You hope to never be parted from it again.

“I’m rather tired from the journey.” He whispered to you. Panick welling up in you as he stroked your hair & cheek sweetly. He wasn’t going to stop, was he? You would punch him in that beautiful face if he stopped now! No a judicator in the land would convict you. “So, you will have to do all the work this time, sweet one.”

He gripped your hips then and flipped you over. You yip at the sudden change in equilibrium, but then moan as you felt his hardness brush against your sex. The length of it perfectly aligned to slide between your folds. By fate or design you could not be sure, but what you were sure of was that you needed it inside you.

“Take from me what you want, issa jorrāelagon. Let me see your rapture now that I am home. You deserve it.”

You whine at Aemond’s words and kiss him desperately. As a thank you? Just the burning need to touch him?

You lift up and line his cock up properly with your entrance. The wetness from your sex and anticipation allowing him to slide in easily, and you moan like a whore at the feeling of him inside you again. “You have to move, issa jorrāelagon.” Aemond reminded you. His tone sweet and teasing. This spell he had on you working over your mind as you are unable to think, just obey, and start to move your hips.

Aemond watched you from below. His eye and sapphire fixed solely on you as you writhed in pleasure on top of him. Every bit the nymph you claimed not to be just a short while ago as your body and mind were lost to you in the sole pursuit of pleasure.

“Aemond..! Aemond…! So good!”

“I know, my love.” He must be close. The grit of his teeth, and the fact that he used your nickname in common instead of High Valyrian, his tell. “I’m close. Just a bit more.” You weren’t sure if you could last that long as you were suddenly bursting all around. Body shaking. Gasping for air. Luckily, it seemed just enough for Aemond and his hips arched up to push deeper inside you as he spilled his seed.

You collapse on top of your husband. Sweaty, wanton, spent. Aemond, for his part, seemed to catch his breath rather quickly and flipped you back over. “What are you doing?”

“Truly you did not think that would be the only time I had you.” You cry out when Aemond thrust his still hard cock into your sensitive sex. “We have near a week to make up for.”

It was much later in the afternoon by the time Aemond felt he had properly ‘balanced the scales’. Your body was exhausted, but content. Laying with your husband in the afterglow, and your ruined bed, a tonic for your soul you didn’t know you needed. “I have a gift for you.”

“Another one?” You tease your prince, who smiled and untangled himself from you to go over to a chest you hadn’t realized was in the room. You recognize it though as the chest the servant had brought to Aemond at his command when he presented the pelts to his sister.

“I caught this one when I was out on my own. Aegon & his troupe were off to the east with their wine and crossbows. I went west, as no quarry would come with their revelry. Seemed only fitting that since I found it on my own, my wife should have it.”

It was a pelt of pure onyx. Soft, but not nearly as soft as what Helaena had gotten earlier. This was the pelt of a beast, not prey. “Aemond, it’s beautiful.” Your fingers sift through the fine hairs. Feeling the power of its former master almost transfer into your fingers. “Thank you.”

“I am glad you like it. Perhaps I shall have to find you a new one, in nine months.” You glance over at Aemond out of the corner of your eye. Quick to understand his meaning. Quick to realize that Aemond wants his own son now that he’s seen Aegon with his second.

“Perhaps.” Time would only tell. You move your beautiful new fur to the side and crawl into Aemond’s waiting lap. “But if you leave me here for a week while I suffer alone, I will kill you. Do you hear me?”

Aemond laughed in the face of his own danger. “No. I would never leave you. This tryst was amusing, but I will be damned before I follow a Baratheon’s tradition before our own.” He lifted your hand and kissed it softly. “Our kin will have dragon eggs in their beds, not pelts.”

“Good.” You agreed and kissed him fully.

You make love again. Slowly, intimately this time. The kind of joining you both hope brings children. You would have to bathe and get dressed for the welcoming feast later that evening. Aegon’s welcome home and Maelor’s official presentation, along with all the spoils the men had caught on their hunt. But for now, it would just be you and Aemond. Enjoying each other and being back in one another’s arms.

Your last present though mysteriously vanishes. You have no idea where the belt went to, or what was done with it. Aemond had no answers. But you have a sinking suspicion it was moved somewhere for safe keeping; lest you find it and burn it, as was your threat long after.

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chillian-murphy · 3 months ago

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Let Your Big Brother Take Care of You

SUMMARY: While visiting your stepbrother at college, you have a hard time falling asleep after some drunken mishaps. He helps you out.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNINGS/ADDITIONAL INFO: Smut 🔞, dubcon, stepcest, intoxication, fingering, comfort sex kinda??, gratuitous mention of Taco Bell

Beta read by @sasybanana

Actually visiting with your step-brother had been the last thing on your mind when you told your parents that you would be visiting him this weekend. Sure, you got along fine, but you barely knew each other and it felt like he was moving out for college as soon as your families joined. Instead, you were hellbent on finding the best partying and hooking up opportunities his film school had to offer. Framing it as a sisterly visit and a chance to learn about campus life was purely an excuse to convince your parents to let you travel on your own, which they seemed to buy as you were headed off to school yourself next year. Besides, Neil had an off campus apartment you could crash at, which would be cheaper than a hotel.

He greeted you with a hug as you entered and set your stuff down, instantly being assaulted by the scent of unwashed laundry and old weed smoke. Still, it was comfortable enough, and was a nice taste of freedom from your mom’s house.

“So, my baby sister wants to visit me for the weekend, for reasons not at all related to my school’s reputation as a party campus?” He smirked as you situated yourself.

“Of course! Just like how my big brother spends all the money he gets from our parents on textbooks and tuition.” you shot back.

“Touché. Well, whatever trouble you’re determined to get into, fuck, I dunno, be smart about it. Use condoms, don’t get drugged. Don’t drink so much that you puke, or at least, try to puke somewhere other than carpet.”

“Wow… so caring.” you rolled your eyes as you headed to the bathroom to get ready for the evening. You snatched a flyer off of a phone pole for a house party, and the directions you got off google said it was only a few blocks away. As soon as you had your heels and your lashes on, you were off.

**********************************************************************************

Stumbling back to Neil’s apartment with your heels in your hand, the night had been a bust. You finished too many mystery drinks too fast and ended up puking in the lap of the one guy who was interested in you, locked yourself in the bathroom to cry for the better part of an hour, and bolted for the door as soon as you pulled yourself together. Thank fuck Neil had the first apartment on the first floor, otherwise you might not have been able to find it in your impaired state.

The door was unlocked, and Neil hadn’t moved from his place on the couch in the hours that you had been gone, presumably wrapped up in whatever it is that he does in his spare time (Watch movies? Play video games? Jerk off? You really didn’t know). This was fine, you really didn’t need him noticing you at the moment. You tried to enter quietly, but tripped over yourself as you moved.

“Holy shit, are you okay?”

Neil rushed over to you to make sure you weren’t hurt. Unable to form words, you started crying again when you met his gaze, big fat mascara tears rolling down your cheeks. Even as he helped you to stand, you wobbled on your way up and had to lean on him for support.

“How much did you have to drink?”

“Dunno… a lot.” It was true, you had chugged whatever you were handed and helped yourself to a variety of half-finished cups that were abandoned by their owners. You had never drank this much before, and had no idea how much was too much until it was too late.

“Shit, um, let’s get you to the bed. The room is yours tonight, don’t worry about it. Do you think you can walk that far?” There was genuine concern in his tone, even if he was a bit panicked and clueless. He looped an arm around your waist and guided you as best he could to the tiny room. Your flop onto the twin bed wasn’t exactly graceful, but landing on a mattress was about a thousand times more comfortable than landing on the floor.

As soon as Neil turned to leave, you began fighting your way out of your tight, itchy dress. Unfortunately, the zipper was stuck (damn cheap clothing) and the garment was too fitted to pull over your head. Refusing to spend any more time stuck in scratchy fabric hell (Seriously, Forever 21, who sells unlined sequined dresses?), you continued wrestling with the zipper and wiggling to find a better angle until you rolled off the bed and landed with a thud. Not knowing what else to do, you shouted for your stepbrother.

The worried look on his face quickly turned into an eye roll as he entered the room and saw you on the floor again.

“So are you like… determined to spend the whole night down there? Undeniably attracted to shitty carpeting? Horny for the floor?” Having a laugh at your drunken expense might not have been the nicest thing for Neil to do, but you were being such a handful tonight.

“I can’t get my dress off,” you sheepishly mumbled as you avoided his gaze. “The zipper’s stuck and I need your help.”

“Hey, hey, it’s fine.” Neil soothed as he knelt down to meet you on the floor. “If anything, I’m flattered… Usually I have to buy a girl dinner before she even thinks of asking me to undress her.”

You shot him an unamused glare, but nonetheless turned and leaned towards him so he could reach the zipper. His touch was warm and gentle as he fiddled with the impossibly tiny hook-and-eye clasp atop the zipper, one hand gently pressed against your upper back to steady you while the other went to work. Before you knew it, the dress slackened and you were able to free yourself from its confines, modesty be damned.

“A tiny little dress and no bra? You really were planning to have fun tonight.” You were still turned away from Neil and couldn’t see his face, but you could hear the grin in his voice.

“It has built-in cups, pervert!” you huffed as you rushed to cover yourself. You groped around for a t-shirt or something before remembering that you were in an unfamiliar room and not at home. “Get out, I just wanna sleep.”

“That doesn’t explain the little lacy panties, though.” Neil let his eyes trail over you before tossing you one of his own shirts. It was true, you had gone out partying with the hope of hooking up as quickly and anonymously as possible, but you weren’t going to admit that. All you wanted was to gain a little sexual experience of your own before heading out to college, but now the only boy to see you naked was your weird stepbrother. “And I’m not leaving you alone tonight. You can’t even stand and I’ve had to help you up twice. You’re too much of a mess to be alone.”

He helped you onto the bed again, only this time he climbed in behind you after hitting the light. The bed was small enough that there was almost no choice but to snuggle up to him, using his shoulder as a pillow. As weird as the whole situation was, it felt nice having him there, like a grounding tether against the spinning sensation in your head.

“For what it’s worth, I thought you looked really cute tonight. Before all the puking and crying and falling, I mean.” He chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. As sweet as the gesture was, you couldn’t ignore the growing gurgle in your stomach.

“Neil… I want Taco Bell.”

“I’ll buy you all the Taco Bell in the world tomorrow if you settle down and go to sleep.”

“Okay…” you buried your face into the crook between Neil’s neck and shoulder as he pulled you closer and idly rubbed your back. You couldn’t help but moan softly at the sensation, which Neil tried his hardest to ignore.

Had you been a little more awake or a little more sober, you might’ve noticed the hitch in Neil’s breath as his hand trailed up and down your back, or the way his hand soon opened into a flat palm and started exploring lower, dangerously close to the waistband of your panties. Instead, you continued to lay silently, dozing off as his hand inched lower.

Eventually, his hand made its way to your ass and cupped the supple flesh. Feeling emboldened by your lack of response, Neil began to squeeze and knead. This made you squirm away, but in doing so, you were met with the perfect amount of friction as your clothed pussy rubbed against Neil’s thigh. Neither of you had realized just how closely you were snuggled together until now, when it dawned on you both what was happening.

Part of you panicked, part of you realizing that this was wrong through your drunken haze, but another part of you only cared that you were being touched, and it felt pleasurable. That was the whole reason you made this trip, right? you rationalized to yourself as you attempted to grind against your stepbrother’s thigh a second time.

Instead of being met with the delicious friction, you felt Neil shift beneath you. Did you fuck this up? Were you just imagining his hand on your ass? But before you could worry any further, he was rolling you onto your back with his thick, firm leg pressing between your thighs and spreading them, and the unmistakable poking of his erection against the spot where your hip met your belly. He pushed his thigh against you, inviting you to grind it.

“Is this what my horny little sister needs? Can’t fall asleep without coming?” His voice was low and husky, in equal parts from being half asleep and his obvious arousal. You were starting to transition from drunk to hungover, feeling more drowsy and dizzy than anything else, and the most you could answer with was a pathetic little whimper as he nudged you.

You rubbed yourself against him as best you could, unable to find just the right angle from the new position you were placed in. In a fit of frustration, you tried pushing Neil off of you so you could rub yourself with your hand, but he was deceptively strong and had you pinned.

“Neeeeeeeeeiiiillllll” you whined, once again wondering if this was all a mistake, maybe you should just try to fall asleep and forget this ever happened. Forget the whole night ever happened. Change your name, move across the country, and never talk to anyone who witnessed tonight ever again.

“Shhhh, it’s alright, just lie there and let your big brother take care of you.”

Just lying there was about all you could do as Neil snaked one of arms between your legs, stroking your folds through your panties a bit aimlessly before gathering the courage to reach beneath the cloth and explore further. After a bit of awkward poking around, he found your clit and began circling it gently with his fingertips, eliciting another whimper, this time of pleasure.

“See? I know exactly what you need. M’gonna play with your little pussy until you relax and fall asleep, like a good girl.” His fingers began teasing your slit, tracing up and down its length without daring to breach inside. It never would have occurred to you that Neil would know his way around pussy, he never brought any girls home when he lived with you. He must’ve gotten a lot of practice after moving out, because the way his fingers were just barely ghosting over you was driving you crazy in a way you couldn’t understand. You wanted him to stop, you wanted him to continue exactly what he was doing, you wanted him to start giving you more. All you knew was that you wanted him, and for him to keep touching you.

As if he could read your mind, he spread your innermost lips and plunged two of his fingers inside. The stretch was sudden, but not at all unwelcome. You were wet enough for him to thrust his fingers in and out of you easily, spreading your slick wherever he touched. As soon as he began alternating between fucking you on his fingers and roughly toying with your clit, you started seeing stars.

“You like that? You like me finger fucking your tight little pussy? I wish I could see it, I bet it's all pink and cute, like your nipples. I bet you’ve never even taken a cock before."

Too drunk, too horny, and too tired to form words, the most you could do was shyly squeak in affirmation.

“Next time I’ll have you bounce on my cock so I can watch your face as you come. Or maybe I’ll eat you out so I can really get to see how cute your pussy is. Or maybe you’ll just want to pay back the favor I’m doing you now and suck me off.”

Next time? You hadn’t considered something like this happening again, or even the fact that you’d have to see him again. In mixed company. With your parents around. Would he fuck you in your childhood bedroom while everyone else was downstairs cooking dinner? Or would he keep your liaisons a dirty little secret that only happened away from home?

You didn’t care. You were coming from your stepbrother’s touch, in your stepbrother’s bed, far away from anyone else you knew. You felt your stomach tighten and your toes involuntarily curl, much stronger than you ever felt sneakily rubbing yourself in the shower. Thank fuck you were in a dark room, because you swore you could feel your face going all stupid.

You must not have realized how much you were panting and clenching around his fingers, because Neil seemed to know exactly how close you were and began whispering in your ear, encouraging you to come. You could barely register what he was saying, you were so lost in the sensation of his breath on your neck and his hand on your cunt.

Your orgasm finally took hold, and you could hear yourself babbling in pleasure but had no idea what you were saying, if you were even forming coherent words, as the pleasure ripped through your body like an electric shock. After the initial burst, you felt your body relax in a way you didn’t know was possible, releasing tension you didn’t even know you were holding. You swore you could feel yourself melting through the mattress before realizing that no, that was just sweat.

Noticing that you were lying there like a limp noodle and no longer squirming and moaning, Neil rolled off of you, withdrawing his hand from your panties. His fingers were completely soaked with your wetness, and while his initial instinct was to wipe them off on his shirt, roll over, and go to sleep, he couldn’t ignore the fact that he was rock hard. In a stroke of genius that would soon lead to literal stroking, he realized he had the perfect lube on hand.

He shoved his drenched hand down his boxers and began tugging his desperate member, softly grunting in rhythm with his pumping fist. Part of you felt bad that you weren’t helping, you had kinda forgotten that Neil was a complete person with desires of his own and not just a machine to get you off, but you were cozy and half asleep and he seemed to be handling the situation well enough on his own. At least, well enough that he was coming all over the front of his shirt.

He carefully pulled his soiled shirt over his head and wiped off his hand and what was left of his mess before tossing it on the floor and reaching for the blanket that had been kicked to the bottom of the bed amidst all the excitement. You felt yourself being tucked in as you gently dozed off, snuggling into Neil’s side as soon as he laid down beside you.

Yeah, you were going to visit your step brother a lot more often now.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #neil lewis #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis x y/n #watching the detectives

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littleprinces · 6 months ago

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A Tale of Forbidden Desires

Belle x M!Reader

I couldn't believe my luck when I found out my stepsister, Belle, was coming to visit for the summer. She was a half Korean and American girl, barely 19 years old, with an attitude that matched her blonde hair. Little did I know, that summer break would change our relationship forever.

Belle and I had always been close, but there was an undeniable tension between us, growing stronger every day she was in town. One day, she asked to use my bathroom before we went out for dinner. I couldn't help but notice her shapely ass as she walked away, and I felt my cock stir in my pants.

I heard her giggle from behind the closed bathroom door, and I knew she caught me staring. "You like what you see, oppa?" she teased. I was taken aback by her boldness but couldn't deny the attraction I felt.

"Maybe I do," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "But I don't think it's appropriate for a stepsister and brother to act on their desires."

"Who says we can't?" Belle challenged, opening the door and stepping out, her eyes locked with mine. "We're both adults, aren't we? And it's not like anyone has to know."

My heart pounded in my chest as she walked over to me, her hips swaying seductively. She placed her hand on my chest, and I could feel the warmth of her touch through my shirt. "What do you say, oppa? Let's have a little fun."

Without saying a word, I leaned in and pressed my lips against hers, kissing her passionately. Our tongues danced together in a French kiss that left us both breathless.

Belle pulled away and looked at me with a mischievous grin. "I knew you wanted me. Now it's time to show you what I've been hiding under these clothes." She reached for the hem of her shirt and slowly lifted it up, revealing her perky breasts and flat stomach.

I couldn't take my eyes off her as she undressed, and soon we were both naked, our bodies pressed together. I couldn't resist burying my face in her neck, licking and nibbling her soft skin while she moaned softly.

She pushed me onto my back on the bed and climbed on top of me, straddling my waist. Her pussy was already wet and ready for me, but she had other plans. She reached behind her and guided my cock to her tight asshole, slowly sliding it inside.

"Oh, fuck," I groaned as she began to ride me in the in doggystyle position. Her ass felt incredible, and I couldn't help but grab onto her hips, guiding her up and down as she fucked me.

"Harder, oppa," she panted, her voice breathy and needy. "Fuck my ass like you mean it."

'Yes belle, you are mine, i love you my sister' i moaned hardly and still pounding her ass so bad

I did as she asked, pounding into her with all my might. She screamed my name, her orgasm building until she finally let go, her body shaking with pleasure.

I pulled out just in time, my cock throbbing as I watched her cum drip down her thighs. I knew what I wanted to do next, and Belle didn't object. I positioned myself between her legs, my cock still rock hard.

"You want to breed me, oppa?" she asked, a smirk on her face.

"Fuck yes, I do," I growled, slipping my cock back inside her soaking wet pussy. I thrust into her hard and fast, my balls slapping against her ass with each stroke.

"Give it to me, oppa," she moaned, her fingers digging into my back. "I want to feel you cum inside me."

I couldn't hold back any longer. With one final thrust, I filled her pussy with my seed, breeding her like she asked. We lay there, tangled in each other's arms, our bodies slick with sweat and cum.

As we caught our breath, I knew that our relationship would never be the same. But at that moment, all I could think about was how good it felt to have my stepsister's body wrapped around mine.

Sorry for late post, i'm so busy

#female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop x reader #kiof smut #belle smut #kpop smut

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honeylations · 11 months ago

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KIM MINJEONG x FEM!READER

Prompt: Minjeong, your best friend (and secret crush), lied to her parents about having a girlfriend. You didn’t expect that YOU were the girlfriend. Let’s see how your heart plays out.

Warnings/Notes: loser nerd Minjeong, g!p Minjeong, eventual smut, best friends to lovers

A/N: more loser Minjeong because she’s so cute

‘Sorry, will be a few mins late!’ Was Minjeong’s last text before you found yourself sitting alone in the Uni’s library for what was supposed to be exam prepping.

However the ‘few mins’ that Minjeong said ended up being almost half an hour and you were close to ditching the plan for a matcha latte, but the taller girl touched your shoulder which almost sent you into cardiac arrest.

“Jesus Jeongie! Don’t sneak up on my like that!”

“I’m sorry for making you wait! Something happened at home so I couldn’t just leave” she sighed and sat beside you.

She was wearing her oversized Minecraft shirt and baggy jeans. Complimented with her old and extremely dirty converses that you told her to throw away. Her short hair was tied into a mini ponytail and her adorable black glasses were taped together in the middle after she accidentally got hit with a basketball in the face.

Oh your adorable nerdy Jeongie :(

“Wanna talk about it?” You asked softly once seeing her stressed state.

She nodded cutely. Like a little puppy. But that thought went out the window when she rested her arm around the back of your chair, leaning closely so no one else would hear what she was gonna say.

Your stomach started to do flips from the close proximity. Her big eyes looked into yours desperately, like she was asking for help.

“Please don’t get mad, Y/n-ie”

“What’s wrong Jeongie?”

She sighed once more and looked away for a split second before meeting your eyes again. My God, she was so hot.

“I may or may not have told my parents that you were my girlfriend…”

That’s when you lost your voice. The air around you felt thick and there was only one way you were able to respond.

You punched her face.

Minjeong grunted and fell out of her seat from the sudden blow. She held her cheek and turned to you in shock. “What the hell Y/n!”

“Are you kidding me Minjeong? What the hell happened for you to lie like that!”

She stood up, still holding her pained cheek. “Both of my sisters got girlfriends leaving me stuck like some virgin loser with no life! What else was I supposed to do? My parents are on my tail and I couldn’t let them know that I’m still refusing to have some human interaction while playing with legos”

You threw a small tantrum. “So what, we just hold hands for the rest of our lives?”

“Look, I just want you to come for dinner tonight. Have some simple conversations with them and it’ll seal the deal. They won’t bother me anymore after”

She was making it harder for you to say no. You wanted her so bad as your girlfriend since you first met but not in the situation she has currently put you in. Letting go of her face, she walked up to you and gently rubbed your shoulders.

You looked up and felt the butterflies again. Why couldn’t the girlfriend thing just be real instead?

“Please Y/n-ie. I really need your help”

Well that was enough to convince you. Talk about being whipped.

“Alright Jeongie. But you owe me big time”

“Yes yes of course! Thank you!” She cutely celebrated and pulled you in for a tight hug.

“I’ll send you my parent’s address. Come at 7 okay? You can even sleep over my dorm afterwards”

“That sounds nice. I haven’t slept over your dorm in a while”

She shrugged. “We get too busy nowadays”

“Yeah we do. Do I have to dress nicely?”

Minjeong looked up to think for a moment before nodding. “Might as well. I’ll dress nice too”

“Alright. Let’s start studying”

You stood at the front door and rang the bell, quickly adjusting the short tight dress just in time for Minjeong to open the door to greet you.

You found yourself stuck in a trance as your best friend revealed herself in a black button up and slacks. The top 3 buttons were undone to reveal the chain necklace you gifted her ages ago.

Minjeong wasn’t wearing her glasses either and her short brown hair wasn’t tied in her usual ponytail. Her hair was free and looking so fluffy as she ran her fingers through it.

“Y/n welcome!” She gave that ever so handsome smile while hugging you.

Her perfume was stronger than usual, almost intoxicating you.

“Jeongie you look so…”

“Different? Yeah I know. It feels a bit weird” she giggled and looked at her own outfit.

“I was gonna say hot but yeah that works too”

Her lips parted adorably. “You think so?”

“Don’t get too happy now” you winked as she allowed you inside and to the kitchen where her parents and two sisters were seated at the table.

“Just go with the flow. It’ll be okay” she whispered in your ear before gently holding your hand. “Everyone, this is my girlfriend, Jang Y/n. Y/n, these are my parents and my two sisters Chaewon and Taeyeon”

You bowed and flashed a bright smile. “Pleasure to finally meet you all!”

“I didn’t think our little JeongJeong was able to pull such a pretty woman” Taeyeon smiled, making you instantly blush.

You felt Minjeong’s hand tighten around yours and you noticed her jaw clenching. Chaewon picked up on it aswell and began laughing.

“Oh relax Minjeong, no one’s planning to steal your girl. Tone down the jealousy”

“I’m not jealous. Come on Y/n, take a seat” she said and pulled the chair out for you to sit on.

She took her own seat afterwards and returned to holding your hand again. “Also guys, please don’t overwhelm my girlfriend with too many questions okay? I’m sure she’s tired already from her uni lectures today”

“Oh you study Y/n?” Her Dad asked with crossed arms as if he was studying you.

“Yes sir, I’m a pharmacy student” you answered proudly, earning an impressed reaction from the family.

“Is that so? May I ask why?”

“My dad currently owns a pharmacy and I hope to open my own after graduation”

“Awe you’re such a sweetheart” Minjeong’s mom cooed, holding your free hand. “Let’s not bother her any longer, honey” She whispered to her husband and then smiling at you again.

“Let’s eat now”

And that’s how the remainder of the dinner went. Chaewon and Taeyeon asked a few more casual questions here and there to get to know you better and surprisingly the 3 of you clicked. You and Chaewon love mint chocolate ice cream whereas you and Taeyeon used to play the violin.

That’s when the two older Kim sisters brought out expensive wine for you to share and then you got a bit carried away from the delectable taste.

Chaewon was slightly worse. Only two glasses in and she was passed out at the dinner table. Taeyeon was more responsible, being the eldest sibling as she took reasonable sips of the liquor. You just chugged every pour and your red cheeks were enough of a sign for Minjeong to confiscate the glass from you.

“That’s enough, Y/n”

“Awe man” you whined and let your head fall onto her shoulder.

“I didn’t expect the dinner to end like this. Sorry Mom and Dad. I promise you she doesn’t usually drink so carelessly” Minjeong smiled sheepishly at her smiling parents

“Sometimes a uni student needs their break” Her mom giggled.

“Thanks for introducing her to us, darling. She’s a gem you need to take care of. If I find out you made her cry, I’m hunting YOU down” Her dad joked, earning a nudge from his wife.

“Thanks guys. It’s time to take her home. I’ll visit you guys again next weekend once exams are over” Minjeong told.

She stood up with you leaning into her arms like a sleepy toddler.

“That sounds lovely. Do bring Y/n again if you can”

“I’ll ask her. Have a goodnight, I love you both”

You woke up during the car ride back to Minjeong’s dorm, feeling a bit dizzy from the wine. “Jeongie?”

“Hey, silly. Didn’t expect you to wake up so soon”

You sat up in the passenger seat and started scanning the view of your supposed to be nerdy best friend driving. She looked so attractive?

She had one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the gear stick, unintentionally displaying the rings on her index and middle finger.

“What’s going on?”

“You’re sleeping over my place remember? Unless you changed your mind. I can drive you to your place instead”

“No no!” You quickly panicked, surprising Minjeong a little.

“Cool. You feeling better?”

The effects of the alcohol were coming back as your eyes did their own thing again, starting from your best friend’s Adam’s Apple down to her unbuttoned shirt and finally…her crotch.

You remember accidentally walking in on her changing out of her pants and seeing quite an impressive size underneath her boxers but that was when Minjeong’s dick was flaccid. It made you wonder the size when hard.

“I’d suck your dick until my jaw dislocates” You randomly blurt out.

Minjeong’s eyes went wide, almost sending the car flying with how hard she slammed on the brakes. “W-What?”

The wine was giving you more confidence than needed so you decided to continue by running a hand from her knee up to her crotch and giving a gentle squeeze. Minjeong’s hands tightened around the wheel as she continued driving.

“Y-Y/n, we’re gonna crash”

“You don’t understand how badly I’ve wanted you, Jeongie” you husked, hand never leaving her bulge.

“Y-You want me?” She cutely squeaked, eyes darting from your hand to the road.

“Always wanted you. The faster you drive us, the faster you get to fucking me, baby” you whispered hotly in her ear and kissing the lobe after.

“Fuck”

You found out that same night that Minjeong didn’t like taking things slow. You were both already naked on her bed, her hand wrapped around your throat while she kissed you like she was starved.

She quickly sat up and fished out a condom but you snatched it from her and threw it away. “I want it raw, baby”

“Do you just let anyone fuck you raw?”

“No, just you. You’re all I ever think about”

Minjeong cursed under her breath before kissing you again, already pushing in her cock inside your desperate cunt. Her lips moved to the space on your neck that her hand wasn’t covering, sucking and biting while your back arched.

“Oh my god, Jeongie”

She smirked into your skin and began moving her hips. “My pretty cock sleeve”

Her words, her actions, her tone were beyond your expectations. A loser nerd girl who was also fucking hot under the sheets and knows how to use her dick? There’s nothing else you could’ve wanted.

“Ah!” You gasped at a particular hard thrust, pushing Minjeong’s head closer to your skin that she continued marking.

“Fuck Princess, need you to be mine” she growled and the hand she had on your throat had pinned your wrists above your head, letting you see her biceps under the dim lighting and her hot face, shining with sweat.

Her chain was dangling just above your nose as her movements became rougher. She bit on her lower lip and released a muffled moan that got you clenching.

“Shit. Gonna fucking cum, Y/n-ie”

“Yes please, Jeongie! I want to be yours”

She leaned down to kiss your nipples and then your lips. “Gonna claim you, okay baby? Not only will you be my girlfriend but you’ll be my personal cum dump too. How does that sound?” She smirked evilly, watching you nod.

“Yes yes yes! Fucking have me. I’ll be anything you want!”

“Good” Minjeong simply said before flipping you over with your ass up.

She held your hips and began fucking you from behind like a mad dog, slapping your ass hard enough to leave a mark. You cried into the sheets as you fisted the ruined blanket, looking to the side and seeing the lewd reflection in the mirror.

You could see Minjeong’s lips parted as she destroyed your insides, almost setting them on fire. “Fuck, gonna cum in this delicious pussy of yours, baby”

You chanted a bunch of “yes”’s as the bed started ramming into the wall. Your eyes rolled back and you released a scream, feeling yourself explode your cum all over Minjeong’s big cock, but she continued to pound into you chasing for her own release.

“Fucking take it, bitch” she panted, feeling the familiar tightness in her abdomen. “Holy shit, Y/n!”

You moaned at the warm feeling of her cum fill your insides, certain that it was going to trickle out of you. Minjeong pulled out and kissed your right ass cheek before staring intently at the white liquid escaping your abused pussy.

“I came a lot for a virgin” she chuckled, making your head whip so fast.

“You’re a virgin?!”

“I thought it would be obvious with, you know, the Minecraft shirts, my Roblox merch…”

“You’re a virgin but you literally fucked me like that?!” You said breathlessly.

“Pleasing a woman doesn’t seem so hard. Porn sites are quite educational too” she winked and laid you beside her.

She pulled the sheets over your sweaty bodies and kissed your crown. “So…does this mean you’re my girlfriend now? Like for real?”

You looked up at her and giggled. “Yes it does”

“Yayyy” she scrunched her nose, personality returning to the loser Minjeong you fell in love with.

“I need to build my Lego soon” she added.

“It’s literally 4am”

“I said what I said”

#gxg #wlw #aespa smut #aespa #kim minjeong #minjeong smut #minjeong x reader #winter x reader #winter #winter smut

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dnd-writes · 1 year ago

Text

Boulevard of Broken Dreams - Pt. 1

AO3

Tags: Non-con, this whole fic is just one whole degenerate lump of non-con, so warning all of you already at the beginning. BFH, very degenerate, unedited, Third-person PoV (cause easier that way), sex slave!Julie, sex slave!Natty, sex slave!Belle, sex slave!Haneul, sex slave!Kiss of Life, sexual slavery, sexual exploitation, contract manipulation, clothing control, slapping, punching, kicking, spitting, deflowering, anal deflowering, painal, dry vaginal sex, facefucking, cum on food, frozen dildos, I think that's all or most of it but you get the point

A/N: 1. First of all, thank you to @fillinforlater for the fic idea. Idk what the fuck happened, at first I was following the plot he laid out, then I changed this part, then I added this part, then this, then that, and I blink and all of a sudden I have this monstrosity of a fic 2. Fic has nothing to do with the song, just thought it would fit as a title 3. If anyone asks, for this fic I "changed the timeline" of KIOF's pre-debut stuff to essentially fit in June 2023, cause y'know, Haneul. 4. Part 1 cause Smite's prompt had a second part that I also want to write but it's gotten so long I decided to split the fic into two? parts.

It’s finally happened, she’s finally done it! After years of hardships and struggles Natty has finally achieved her goal of being in a K-pop girl group, the dream she once thought to be impossible now becoming a reality as she takes the pen and puts her signature down on the contract with tears filling her eyes. Some might call her crazy or an overreactor for bawling out but for someone who has gotten eliminated in the finals of not one but two survival shows, tears of joy sound like a reasonable reaction.

Although Natty has already spent nearly a decade training, she is still looking forward to training more with her new groupmates. Even if it might take a decade more, as long as her dream comes alive, to her it’s all worth it.

Natty expected to be surprised on her first day but she wasn’t ready to face what was in store for her. Having been a trainee for almost half her life, there’s no doubt that Natty has heard rumors about the industry, the drastic measures required to stay in form, the horrible things that happen away from prying eyes, the exploitation, the harassment. Though to her, they were all just rumors, just silly little things that people made up, little did she know that the rumors were just a teaser of what’s to come.

Natty goes through the front doors but instead of the vibrant and cheerful place she visited not long ago, the company now has a faint and eerie atmosphere. Lights are off, not a sign of any person in the immediate vicinity, it’s like the place never was alive to begin with. “Maybe I just came in at a wrong time,” she thinks as she navigates her way to her destination. Natty ascends to the fifth floor and as she makes it there, she hears subtle heavy breathing echoing along the halls. She decides not to get too curious and instead looks for the meeting place.

Natty stands just outside the door with a large smile prepared on her face, “This is it,” she tells herself as she gets ready to meet her new sisters. Her jolly expression quickly fades as she breaches the door, sitting inside are two of her three new groupmates. While very excited to finally meet them for the first time, what catches her attention the most are their outfits—both of them revealing way too much skin, a stark contrast to the jacket and jeans she has on. One of them is wearing booty shorts and a crop top cut short enough to barely cover her nipples and Natty notices that she doesn’t seem to have a bra underneath it. And all she can see on the other is a large red shirt barely making its way past her hips.

Natty forces back a smile, trying to regain the excitement she previously had. There’s just four seats in the middle of the room all facing each other and Natty takes one of the two empty ones. It was awkward at first but the tension slowly dissipated as the three began talking, though a sense of eeriness still lingers behind. They start off introducing themselves to each other and Natty quickly learns that it’s Haneul who is wearing the crop top and Belle is the one wearing the red shirt. Once they got the awkward introductions out of the way, they proceeded to talk about random things. They start to talk about their lives now, their lives as trainees in previous companies, how the two knew of Natty in her time in survival shows. Although, every time Natty would try to talk about their outfits, they would pause and take a deep breath but then they would either play it off as if it was a normal thing or just change the subject entirely.

With no obstructions between them, Natty can’t help but notice some details with their apparent choices of clothing. Natty doesn’t know if she’s just imagining it but when she looks at Haneul’s crop top, she swears she can see a hint of darkness which she can only guess to be are areolas. Then there’s Belle who is sitting in the chair across from her, her short red shirt hikes even higher up her body while she sits down and Natty can see, clear as day, Belle’s pussy just hanging in the breeze. Natty tries to ask her about it but Belle just looks at her as if she was a crazy person.

Eventually the last member arrives, Natty somewhat expected her to also be similarly dressed which she is but the state she came into the room in was what shocked her the most. The last member arrives wearing a yellow sundress though from the looks of it, it might be a size or two too small. As she stands there trying to introduce herself to Natty, she keeps on adjusting her dress, struggling between pulling it over her chest or pulling it below her hips. But her attire is the least alarming part, her hair is all frizzled, her lipstick is smeared, and there’s drops of liquid dripping from between her legs. Natty forces another smile as all four of them start to talk together. The mystery girl introduces herself as Julie, their new leader. Julie takes the remaining seat and, similar to Belle, her dress hikes up, even higher compared to Belle’s shirt, and Julie’s pussy is visible to everyone. No one comments on it but Natty quickly sees that a pool of white is forming between Julie’s legs and it seems to come from her pussy and her butt.

Natty was right in that her first day would be full of surprises, though she did not expect to be such horrible and gut wrenching surprises. On her way home, she starts to recall the rumors she has heard over the years and after thinking back to what she saw earlier, they’re starting to become less like rumors and more like the harsh reality of the industry. But Natty brushes the thoughts aside, thinking to herself that her dream of being part of a K-pop group is being fulfilled and if it means even worse and troubling obstacles, then she will just overcome them too. She has had years of training, what’s a questionable dress code compared to that?

The next day arrives and Natty tries to remain optimistic, wearing another bright smile as she enters the practice room, though just like the day before it quickly drops. There’s a fifth person joining them that day and Natty can only assume he’s their choreographer only except he’s wearing nothing but shorts. While his toned body is in no doubt hot and amazing, given the situation and the very very prominent tent he’s sporting, Natty is deeply disturbed.

She says hi to him and then at her group mates who she has just noticed are still wearing the same outfits as the day before albeit with some slight changes—Haneul’s isn’t even covering her chest anymore, just dangling like a necklace above her shoulders; Belle’s red shirt has streaks of white all over the front; and Julie’s dress has a rip at the top as if her breasts were breaking free. Natty couldn’t even find the time to feel sorry for them as the man starts to talk to her as she comes in. “Hey, you’re the new girl right? What are you wearing?”

Natty stands frozen in place. She hasn’t gotten any sort of instructions or clothing to wear. Has she missed something?

The man carries some papers over to her. “Did you not read this?” Natty recognizes the papers he’s holding, it’s the contract she signed. He flips through the pages and gives it to her, “See? Right here.” He points at the clause labeled “Attire” and Natty reads through the fine print. “In the company, the members should wear what is given to them or any clothing that they have. Provided that their tops have sleeves not longer than 10 cm and bottoms not longer than 20 cm.” With just her luck, she’s wearing a sweater and jeans that day. Natty couldn’t believe this, she remembers reading every detail of the contract but not once has she seen this. Natty continues to read the page and the next clause is labeled “Sex.” It reads, “The members cannot object to their bodies being touched or used by the employees of S2 Entertainment. The members must follow every order given to them, whether they are willing to do so or not. If the task is impossible to do, the members must accomplish it to the best of their ability. None of this can be mentioned to anyone outside of S2 Entertainment.” Natty could not believe her eyes, such inhuman clauses on her own contract. She hastily checks the last page and there sits her signature, bright as day. She looks at the others in disbelief but they can only stare right back at her with empty expressions.

The man grabs the papers back. “Well? The clothes we have are still in the laundry, so unless you have spare clothes with you or something, the only solution is to undress.” Natty looks at the others again for help but they just shake their heads and Julie mouths “Sorry” to her. “Are you going to do something about it or do you want me to take care of it?” Driven by fear of getting manhandled, Natty turns around and rushes to take her clothes off. Even with her back to everyone, she can feel the stares stabbing into her back. She feels so sick and dirty as she takes her sweater off and as she shimmies her pants off of her hips, she doesn’t realize she was involuntarily shaking her ass for everyone not until the man squeezes her butt.

Natty shivers in the cold room but it pales in comparison to being just in her underwear. Though it’s just the choreographer she has to be worried about, the lustful stare he gives her is enough to make her cry. Julie tries to console Natty but not a second later Natty hears a slap echo in the room, she looks up to see the choreographer in front of Julie who’s holding the side of her face.

The rest of the day goes pretty ok given the circumstances, mostly just going over the song and the choreography that went along with it, though their instructor occasionally helped himself to cop a feel while teaching and he seemed to be most interested in Natty, always focusing on her mistakes, groping and feeling every inch of her body as he “teaches” the dance.

The next day, Natty moves into the group’s dorm. “This time, it will be better,” she tells herself, maintaining that bright and optimistic perspective on life. She hopes that in the dorm it will be much funner and freeing, just her and her group mates living together and hanging out all the time.

She opens the door and peers inside, to her surprise it’s really clean and quiet. Although she’s been very optimistic about things, deep down she was expecting similar horrors to what she has seen the previous days and seeing such a pristine and spacious living space is enough of a relief for her. After bringing her things through the door, Natty explores the place. In the living room there’s a huge flatscreen TV and a couch big enough to fit more than four people, and in the kitchen there’s lots of space available and a big fridge. Natty checks the fridge and salivates seeing lots of veggies and drinks inside, then she checks the freezer and almost falls to her knees from hunger seeing all the meat. Natty was about to slam the door shut when she notices a red dildo slightly hidden in one of the layers, she gives it a touch and confirms that it is ice cold. She blushes slightly, thinking that one of her group mates is kinky like that.

Natty hops over to the rooms, excited to see what those are like after seeing how extravagant the common areas are. She first checks on the room to the right, as she goes in she’s met with a very odd-looking room, half is very bland and empty while the other half is very decorated. “This must be my side,” she whispers while looking at the empty space. Over in the decorated half she sees Haneul fast asleep in her bed, seeing her wearing pajamas and not some skimpy outfit brings a smile to her face.

Natty closes the door gently as she makes her way to the next room. She barges through the door and immediately regrets it, the dorm which she expected to be their “safe space” away from the shit they have to go through at the company, turns out to just be an elegant looking prison. Natty was so happy about the place but unfortunately, it was too good to be true.

Natty sees three people all in one bed. Nearest to her is Belle, lying on her back and sobbing into her hands while a red dildo is shoved in her ass. Next to her is Julie and some man relentlessly pounding into her from behind. Only the man reacts to Natty’s arrival, looking over his shoulder to smile at Natty, it’s a different man, one Natty hasn’t met before. “Hi, Natty… I’m your… manager… Will you be a good girl and… pull that out of Belle?”

Natty should feel offended by such a crude question but after a week of “training,” she’s gotten to know better. Disgusted and disturbed yet Natty still drags her feet across the floor towards the three of them. “Just pull it out but do it slowly, don’t want to hurt her… even more,” he quickly adds the last part, chuckling as he does so, clearly enjoying himself at the expense of Julie’s and Belle’s pain.

Natty glances at Belle, her face hidden in her hands, her body red and blue all over, her ass adorned with a bright red toy. She touches the base and immediately recalls her hand, it’s cold, ice cold. Natty considers herself a fool for even thinking for a moment that the freezer dildo was a kink thing, perhaps it might, but not for the person she thought it to be.

Belle’s quiet sobs turn to whines as Natty starts pulling the dildo out, the sound alone is enough to bring tears to Natty’s eyes, knowing that even though she’s helping, she’s still causing some pain. Natty continues to pull but at her slow pace it feels like it would take forever, she doesn’t even know how long the dildo is and as more inches get pulled out, the more worried she gets knowing how far it was in Belle and how much it could have hurt.

Finally she pulls the thing out which calms Belle, her asshole closes back up, her body relaxes, and her cries die down. Natty looks at the dildo in her hand, the thing is almost as long as her forearm, she quickly throws it away and out of her sight.

Their manager turns to see that Natty has done what he requested, he gives Belle a slap on the ass and then Natty a pat on the head. “Oh nice… you’re a good girl... Natty… So here’s… your reward…” Before Natty could process anything he said or did, she feels her hair being yanked and her face quickly diving towards the bed. He makes her face to the side and starts to paint Natty in his cum. She hasn’t felt cum yet, let alone seen a dick in person, but the warmth and stench it leaves is enough for her to hate it.

“Wake Haneul up and have her clean you up, or you could just drink it all yourself, I wouldn’t mind. Just make sure to record, ok? When you’re done, Natty, meet me in my room, it’s at the end of the hall.”

And just like that he leaves, satisfied and so full of himself, while the three girls lay exhausted and broken.

Julie is the first one to recover among the three of them. “Let’s get you cleaned up. I’ll go get Haneul, he hates waiting too long.” Before Julie can step away, Natty grabs her wrist. “N-No! I’ll do it. I’ll… try to do it.”

“You sure? Alright then. My advice is just do it quickly. Hwaiting.” Julie flashes a weak smile and raises her fist for encouragement and Natty reciprocates the action.

Julie takes her phone and starts recording. Natty sits at the edge of the bed with Belle just slightly out of the shot. Natty scoops up all the cum on the side of her face, just doing so disgusts her immensely. With most of the white liquid in her palm, she puts everything in her mouth and gulps it all down. For a second all is well but the aftertaste hits her like a truck and she starts coughing again and again. She expected to hate it but it was beyond awful. Only when Natty calms down does Julie stop recording.

“Go to his room, it’s on the left. I’ll just put this back in the freezer,” says Julie as she picks up the dildo from the floor.

“He hates waiting.” Natty repeats, with no time to rest, she gets to her feet and moves to the manager’s room. Natty’s hand reaches for the doorknob but she stops herself before she can even touch it. This time around she opts to knock instead of just barging in. “Come in,” says the voice from the other side. Natty enters the room, it looks much bigger and more grand than the other rooms, a bigger bed, a TV, a mini-fridge, it was practically its own apartment. “So nice of you to knock, you’re still dressed but that’s an easy fix.”

She notices him ruffling through some stuff in his drawer, she tries to take a peek but he closes it before she can see what was inside. In his hands are a remote and a collar with her name on it. “We just met a few minutes ago but I think you’re my favorite already.” He puts the collar on her, tightening it so it fits exactly around her neck. “Whenever you’re here at the dorm, you have to wear this, ok? And everytime I press this button.” He raises the remote and clicks it, sending a small stinging sensation to Natty’s neck. “You have to come to me. It’s only at one right now but if you’re not here within five minutes of me clicking it, it goes up by one, permanently.” Natty gulps but with the collar snug around her neck, it made it a little uncomfortable.

“Ok so where’s the video?”

“Ah, Ju-”

As her name is mentioned, Julie barges into the room, phone outstretched with the video ready to play.

“Ah, there it is. Thank you, Julie.” Julie hands her phone over and stands in place, like a robot waiting for her next command. “Aww, look at Belle sleeping so peacefully. Oh wonderful, drinking it all by yourself. See, I knew you would be my favorite.” He hands the phone back to Julie and she starts to leave but before she makes it out he issues one final order for her. “Julie, be a dear and get Haneul. She’s been sleeping all day, I haven’t had my fun with her yet. Actually, you know what? Now that Natty’s here, just get everyone.”

With just the two of them left in the room, he walks over to Natty. Seeing his erect dick twitching so much causes her to involuntarily step backwards and his brows suddenly furrow. “Now, now, Natty.” The sudden change in his tone and expression is enough to strike fear in her heart, afraid of a punishment she puts her foot back to its original spot causing his smile to return.

“Sweaters. Always so annoying, I heard you’re huge but I can’t really tell with that stupid thing hiding your tits. From now on in the dorm, Natty, only wear tight tops. Oh, better yet, no tops at all. The only thing I want to see you wearing above your hips is that collar.”

Instantly Natty’s hands start to move, getting rid of any clothing on her torso as soon as the new rule is implemented. She can see it in his eyes, hunger ever growing with each article of clothing she removes. As soon as her shirt comes off, he starts salivating. “My, oh my, you’re huge. Looks like Julie’s got competition.” Natty reaches behind herself to unhook her bra but pauses for a moment, she realizes this is the first time she would show her breasts to anyone, many have touched and played with them at the company but not one has unveiled her boobs. As her bra falls, his dick twitches in excitement.

The rest of the group arrives. Belle is the first to enter, her legs very tired and her ass still very sore. Next comes Haneul, yawning and rubbing her eyes. Last is Julie, her head held high and her face serious, looking like a guard rounding up the inmates although she isn’t any less of a prisoner compared to the other girls in the room. The four just stand in silence like mannequins and their manager walks around and gropes whatever he pleases as if doing some inspection.

“Haneul… what did we say?” says the manager very disappointedly. His tone shocks her awake, “I-I’m sorry,” she bows then starts getting out of her clothes. He scoots over to her and slaps her in the face. “I’ll let you off easy this time since Natty’s finally here but I’m doubling the next punishment.”

After Haneul, he moves over to Belle, whose legs are barely keeping her standing. “You cross me again, I’ll make sure you won’t even be able to walk for the rest of the day.” He punches Belle and she easily drops to the ground sobbing, he kicks her while she’s down to add insult to injury. Natty can only shiver upon hearing everything happen behind her, does she even want to know what Belle did to make him so mad?

He moves over to Julie and the first thing he does is spit on her face then he uses his fingers to smear it all over. Julie keeps her composure, just closing her eyes as he plays with her face, not flinching or whining at all. “You should thank Natty for being here, ‘cause you’ll finally have some time to rest.” His hands cup her breasts, giving them a proper feel before he moves on to a bigger and better pair.

Finally he comes back around to Natty, the only person in the room with any piece of clothing still on. “Tell me, Natty… Have you fucked before?” Natty gulps again knowing the implications, though it was bound to happen eventually. She shakes her head and he smiles. “Oh, a virgin? So many people in that building and not one has fucked you? Well their loss, we’re gonna have so much fun together.”

“Change of plans girls, looks like I need some ‘catching up’ to do with Natty. Go do whatever you want for now, we’ll be here for a full day or two.”

But just before he dismisses them, he goes back to Belle, still on the ground holding her side. He spits on her face too but this time he uses his foot to smear her face. “Don’t think I’m done with you just yet. Be ready for your final ‘lesson’ when I’m done with Natty. Now go, all three of you, leave.”

It’s wicked really, how sick and twisted all of this is, all the expectations Natty had, completely flipped around. Shining eyes looking up to her turns out to be lustful stares looking down, helping hands turn out to be forceful gropes, and managers turn out to be owners. Natty looks over her shoulder with tears starting to form in her eyes, though her hands remain still, her stare acts like a hand reaching out to save her from the depths of hell but alas, all Haneul and Julie could do is return similar sad gestures as they carry Belle away.

The manager locks the door as the three leave and immediately gets back to Natty, even with all the time in the world at his disposal, he wouldn’t want to waste a single second. With the rest of the group gone, Natty feels even more miniscule and useless, even more of a toy as his gaze is solely on her. He comes up behind her and fills his hands with her tits, with Julie’s he can still grasp the whole thing in his hands but Natty’s can barely be fully contained. He starts to fondle and play with her nipples while slowly moving his mouth closer to her neck.

Natty easily starts to moan loudly, she wants to keep quiet to avoid giving him that pleasure but her complete lack of experience and the resulting lack of tolerance betrays her. He sniffs along her neck, “You smell so good and your tits… so fucking soft.” He finds a patch of skin along the front of her neck and starts to kiss and suckle on it, Natty explodes into a moaning mess, shouting in pleasure as if she’s having the time of her life.

The pleasure gets cut short as his hands move down to her waist. “Sweatpants… another cock blocker. From now on, just don’t wear anything, Natty. Your body is so hot and irresistible, wouldn’t want any clothes hiding your beauty. Don’t worry about getting cold, just come to me and you’ll be warmed up in no time.” His fingers slip into the waistbands and he slides both her underwear and her sweatpants down to the ground. He’s the first one to see her tits and now he’s also the first one to see her bare ass and pussy. As much as she doesn't want to think about it, he probably will be the first dick she takes in every hole.

The manager circles Natty slack-jawed and wide-eyed as if admiring a sculpture he has just made. “Fat ass, soft and heavy tits, pretty face. You’re just the perfect little toy, aren’t you? And a virgin too, just the absolute best, if I could I would just own you forever but sadly I’ve got a job to do. Although… maybe I can have you be my roommate instead of Haneul’s, that’s probably the closest I’ll get.” He leans down and frowns at what he sees. “Unshaved, unfortunate, guess you can’t have absolutely everything but it’ll do. First thing I want you to do when you’re out of this room is get that shaved, got it?” Natty’s been unmoving and frozen in place for so long that it takes her a second before nodding her head.

The manager pushes Natty onto the bed then flips her to face him. Her full body is on display for him, each delicacy just sitting idle like food in a buffet, up for grabs at any time. He licks his lips as he considers his options.

“Two virgin holes, which to try first? The other three bitches came here already used, so this will be a first for you and me.” He slaps his dick against her pussy, grinding on it and feeling the slight hint of wetness it’s giving off. Next he considers her asshole, very puckered and looking very small compared to the head of his cock as he pokes her with it. He licks a finger and prods inside, the way his finger barely pushes through excites him and the way Natty winces seals the deal for him.

He lifts Natty’s legs up and hooks them over his shoulders, giving him a perfect angle to ravage her ass. He lines himself up and slowly pushes his way in, not even bothering to spread her cheeks to mitigate the tightness. Natty is already breathing heavily as she feels her asshole stretching to accommodate him. “Please,” she begs. “It… It won’t fit.”

He just smiles and caresses her cheek. “That’s the fun part, a tiny virgin asshole broken open by my cock. I’m gonna remember this forever.”

As soon as Natty’s sphincter spreads wide enough for his girth, he shoves the whole thing inside. “AHHHH!!! TAKE IT OUT! TAKE IT OUT!” Natty fires a blood-curdling scream as his cock swiftly overwhelms her. It hurt for him too given how dry her butt is but only barely, plus her cries only work to alleviate him.

He locks her legs in his arms and her hips in his hands to keep her from moving. Her hands might be free but Natty doesn’t have the strength or the courage to lift them up. Her ass feels like it’s on fire from the dry friction between the two of them. To her, it’s like hell. To him, the fire feels like an invigorating force.

Her anal walls hug him so tightly, it’s like Natty’s ass is begging him to fill her up and who is he to turn down such a request. Her ass is so tight, it’s practically milking him dry, any tighter and he might not be able to pull out. In just a few minutes he starts to orgasm, the hardest and fastest one he’s had with any of the four girls. He pulls out and scrambles to find his phone, wanting to cherish this moment forever. “Second load of cum and many more to go. You’re gonna be such a wonderful cum bucket, Natty, milking me everyday. You’re going to love my cum and my dick in no time.”

Natty tries to stand, to do something, anything, but her body is just worn out already, completely exhausted, completely given up. The manager, on the other hand, is the exact opposite, even after tearing Natty’s asshole apart, he’s still hard and ready for another round. This time he has his eyes set on her cherished virginity.

He hooks her legs back onto his shoulders but this time he carries her then pins her to the wall with her wrists bound by his hand above her head. While flexibility isn’t a problem for Natty, she is now face to face with her assaulter. She closes her eyes and looks away but that doesn’t stop her from feeling his hot breath on her face. His tongue pokes out and licks along her cheek, tasting her tears and her sweat, he leaves a trail of his saliva as he travels from her jaw to her ear. “So salty, so delicious. Everything about you is so delicious, you know that? Now I’m gonna enjoy fucking your pussy, I’m gonna see just how tight you fucking are.”

Tears fall nonstop from her eyes. Natty’s sobbing grows strong as she feels his heat pressing against hers. She so badly wants to beg him to stop, to let her rest, but her voice can’t manage to form words and she knows he wouldn’t listen anyway.

He lines himself up with her folds and in one swift motion, he pistons his cock inside. “AHHHH!!! FUCK! PLEASE!!!” her voice only manages to come back during moments of intense pain. “Oh, Natty, your cunt. Fuuuuuuck, that’s the best pussy ever.” Her pussy is heavenly, it’s so tight that it’s almost orgasmic when he penetrates her. He just loves the way Natty squeezes around him. He also loves hearing her cry out in pain, to him it’s like a choir of angels. He relishes in the feeling of Natty’s pussy, living in his own twisted version of heaven.

As he pounds into her from below, Natty’s tits bounce freely in front of him and he doesn’t waste a second as his mouth latches onto her chest, after all, a little side dish won’t hurt while he enjoys the main meal. He bites her nipples, pulling and squeezing them with his teeth, only adding more pain to what Natty is already experiencing.

The two of them fucked endlessly in that locked room while the other three finally got some rest, though they couldn’t quite live in blissful harmony as Natty’s screaming kept them aware of their situation, the walls were thin enough to let Natty’s wails of terror flood the whole dorm. While the other three girls were able to sleep through it, in the morning they still heard Natty screaming and begging, though her voice much weaker and hoarser.

There’s just so much to do with Natty, just pure lust and adrenaline fueling the manager all throughout the night. All the positions he could take her in, all the things he can do, all the possibilities, everything that Natty’s body can offer, he takes. He fucked her all over the room, didn’t even matter how or where, he just slams her down somewhere and fucks her in whatever hole he felt fit. He fucked her face against the wall, then fucked her ass while he pressed her face onto the floor, then fucked her pussy while missionary on the floor, then fucked her ass doggystyle on the bed, then fucked her face while her head hung off the bed, then fucked her ass in the shower. Just so much cum in and on her body in the span of a couple of hours and yet he is still going strong.

The next day comes around and there doesn’t seem to be any lapse in their action. Stretching from before the rise of the sun all the way to after it set, just endless screaming of pure pain and agony coming from Natty. The only time the manager interacted with the rest of the girls was when he asked Julie to cook up a meal for them. The door finally opened again for the first time in two days as Julie brought her cooking.

“Ah, pork belly, I’m starving. Thank you so much, Julie. I see you’ve gotten comfortable without me pestering you all the time,” he says as he sees Julie wearing some pajamas. “Oh, two plates? We won’t be needing that,” he chuckles as he returns the second set of utensils as well. Just before the door closes, Julie takes a peek over his shoulder and sees Natty practically lifeless on the floor. The manager gives Julie a quick smile, proud of his own work, then locks the door.

The manager walks over to the bed and nudges Natty with his foot before getting himself comfortable. Natty, almost void of all energy, springs to life as she smells the delicious food. Natty sits patiently, silently jealous as she stares at her manager eating all by himself. He points to his dick and Natty can only sigh as she lowers her face in front of it.

The manager puts his hand on the back of her head and Natty opens her mouth, but instead of pushing down he says, “Let’s play a game, Natty. If you make me cum before I finish the food, you can have the rest of it.”

Natty doesn’t exactly have much knowledge on how to pleasure a dick, her only experience being the one dick that’s been forced in her body the past two days. She’s already come to terms with the fact that she might not eat for two days straight but regardless she tries her best.

Natty employs the small pieces of advice she’s heard him tell her. Even though she’s basically just moving her head along his length, judging from his moans he seems to be enjoying it so she goes faster.

“Fuck, Natty. Fuck… I’m gonna cum…” He takes over this time, gripping the back of her head as she immediately chokes. “Don’t… swallow it, fuck.” He struggles to squeeze his words out of his mouth as another orgasm makes its way into Natty’s mouth, only this time around it pools on her tongue. She already hates cum to begin with, cringing inside whenever she would taste it but with a whole load lingering in her mouth, revolting is an understatement. She struggles to hold it all in, not just because of the taste but also because of how much he gave her, her cheeks are full and just a little more it would probably overflow.

He holds the plate of what’s about a quarter of the total meat still left on it. “Spit,” he commands and without hesitation she opens her mouth and deposits the batch onto the plate. “Go on, everything, spit into it.” She does as ordered, mixing the remnants with saliva and spitting onto the food. He spits onto the plate as well and mixes the meat with the “sauce” then puts it on the other side of the bed from her. “Go eat.”

Natty tries to get up and walk to the other side but the manager has other plans. He grabs her hair again and pulls her across the bed, forcing her to kneel down. “Come on, eat up.” He moves over behind her and lines up with her pussy. “Don’t waste anything, when you’re done I want that plate clean.” Natty stares at the disgusting abomination in front of her and she feels even more disgusted and degraded knowing that even when it comes to food she’s being treated like a dog. Her stomach gurgles, no matter how disgusting the food may be, she still has to eat. Natty tries to look at the brighter side of things, at the very least she’s eating actual food and not some slop that looks inedible.

On the third day of her imprisonment, Natty is completely exhausted and broken. She just lies on her back, barely even reacting to anything her manager does anymore, there’s cum on almost every inch of her body and yet she doesn’t bother to clean it.

Julie knocks to bring them breakfast, the manager gets the door but instead of just taking the food he tells Julie to give it to Natty. “She’s not fun anymore so I’ll be going back to you guys. And besides, the company is looking for her, can’t have her here forever.” As soon as the manager leaves, Julie rushes over to Natty and tends to her.

The manager, clearly unsatisfied with Natty’s unresponsiveness and clearly needing a release, turns to Belle for release.

“AHHH!!! Wait, no, please… I’m sorry.” He barges into her room and she immediately shrieks upon seeing him. In the short span of two days, she’s gotten used to not being around him but here he is to remind her of her place. “I promise I won’t do it again, I—” She tries to get away but she’s stuck in the corner and all she can do is sink herself further into it. He doesn’t stop or even think for a second about what he’s doing, he just walks up and punches her face, adding another bruise to the multiple he’s given her.

“Haneul? Get in here!” he shouts at the top of his lungs. While waiting, he pulls Belle’s face to the edge of the bed and starts facefucking her, all the while alternating between slapping her tits and punching her pussy.

“Haneul?!” he calls again after a few minutes. After cumming down Belle’s throat and Haneul still hasn’t arrived, he marches over to her room. Not really to his surprise, he finds Haneul sleeping soundly in her bed. For one second he smiles, admiring her beauty before proceeding to ruin it.

He punches her which brings her wide awake. He tugs her hair to bring her face close to his. “Always sleeping, you lazy cunt. Maybe you need a lesson too.” Haneul screams and thrashes as she’s dragged across the floor by her hair towards Belle’s room.

The next few days and weeks go by with the members somewhat getting used to and coping with the treatment that they are going through. Lots of practicing and “training” happens at the company, mostly the latter, then their manager has fun with them at the dorm. At the very least their manager is kind, all things considered, just as long as they follow his orders, so they still get to somewhat relax at the dorm. And whenever no one is using their bodies, the girls hang out, talk with each other, and comfort each other, growing a bond and giving each other hope to carry on until they debut.

The month ends and it’s finally time for Kiss of Life to debut. The four are no doubt incredibly excited, they finally get to wear clothes that cover most of their body, finally have some time away from the perverts, and most of all, they finally get to debut and live out their dreams of being K-pop idols, though little do they know what their company still has in store for them, even in public view.

A/N 2: So if you made it here, congratulations, you're as much of a degenerate as I am :). Anyway, while part 1 is mostly focused on Natty, part 2 would likely be four "mini-fics" in one, each focusing on one member. Subject to change but most likely it would be like that

#kpop #kpop smut #kiss of life #kiss of life smut #natty #natty smut #julie #julie smut #belle #belle smut #haneul #haneul smut

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population9973 · 8 months ago

Text

family line - luke danes

luke danes x fem!reader

summary: things get a little complicated when your boyfriends nephew comes to stay with him

warnings: smoking, family trouble, a bit of angst, mention of cheating but it isn’t happening?, language, readers parents are 💀

word count: 3k (this was supposed to be short)

as you woke up in bed, you rolled over to find luke’s side of the bed empty, and squinted at the clock on his nightstand; you’d slept in.

“oh crap,” you hurried to get dressed and presentable before heading downstairs to work. as you walked in, you noticed luke was on the phone, and he didn’t sound too happy with whoever he was talking to. lorelai was behind the counter grabbing donuts and putting them in a bag, while a group of boy scouts waited in line.

“okay fine,” he said loudly. “do what you want- make the arrangements. now i’m working, we’ll finish this later!” he hung up the phone with a clang.

“is everything okay?” lorelai asked, and you gave luke a worried look as you tied an apron around your waist.

“do either of you have a sister?” he asked.

“uhm, no.”

“no,” you agreed. in the six months you had been with luke, family had never really come up as a topic of dicussion; and that was more than okay with you.

“i do!” one of the boy scouts piped up.

“you have my sympathies,” luke sighed, and disappeared into the back.

“here, i’ll ring you through,” you offered to lorelai, who happily cut in front of the line.

“do you know what that was all about?” she asked, and you shook your head.

“no idea,” you answered honestly, telling her the total for the donuts as rory pestered her to hurry up.

after helping the boy scouts order and pay for their food, you went to find luke, who was sitting in the storage room organizing cans on the shelf.

“hey, sorry i was late,” you said softy.

“that’s okay, it was quiet this morning. i thought i’d let you sleep in,” he replied.

“when is it your turn to sleep in?” you teased.

“never.”

“that’s what i thought,” you sighed. “i take it that wasn’t a customer calling to place an order?”

“no,” he sighed. “it was my sister. her son - jess, my nephew is gonna stay with me for a while.”

“is your sister okay?”

“define okay,” he replied, and you gave him a look. “nothing happened to her, she just can’t control him anymore. he’s getting into trouble and she’s given up taking care of him, so she’s sending him here.”

“i see,” you nodded.

“you’re mad i didn’t ask you,” he suggested, and you shook your head.

“no, luke of course not. he’s your family, and it’s your apartment not mine,” you disagreed. “i think it’s nice that you want to help him, and your sister.”

“but?”

“but what?” you asked.

“there’s a but,” he insisted, and you sighed.

“but,” you exaggerated, raising an eyebrow. “are you sure you’re ready for this kind of responsibility?”

“you don’t think i can do it?” he asked, stopping his shelf organizing to look at you.

“it’s not that i don’t think you can, of course i do. i just - think it might be a little more difficult than you’re expecting, thats all. so if you need any help-“

“i’ll be fine,” he insisted.

“okay.”

“but thank you,” he added, kissing your forehead softly, before walking back out to help a customer who’d been ringing the service bell.

“you better be on fire or else calm down; i’m on my way!” he called, and the ringing stopped.

you sighed, wondering if luke knew what he was getting himself into.

•

you only worked half days at the diner so you decided to give luke some space and go back to your house for a while, tidying up a bit since you’d been at luke’s the night before.

flopping down on the couch, you scrolled through the tv channels looking for something to watch, but failed to find anything that interested you.

after making some lunch and doing some chores around the house, you went out to buy some groceries and stopped by the diner to see how luke was doing just after dinner.

“hey,” you smiled, the bell above the door altering him to your presence.

“hey, back already?”

“i’m just passing by. i’m going to the grocery store - do you need me to grab anything for you while i’m there?” you asked, but he shook his head.

“nah i think i got everything all stocked up earlier.”

“is he here already?” you asked.

“yeah, i picked him up from the bus stop an hour ago. you might run into him while you’re out and about.”

“he went out already?” you asked.

“yeah, i think he wanted to uh… see the town,” luke sounded unsure.

“honey-“

“it’s fine, i’m sure he just needs some time to get used to being here. that’s all.”

“you’re right,” you agreed. “not to go into the gorey details but i’ve been in his place before and it’s not easy. no matter how great the person you’re staying with is,” you held his hand on the counter for a second, and he looked like he wanted to ask what you meant, but just smiled instead.

“thanks. i’ll see you later?”

“i was thinking i’d give you guys some space - let him settle in on his own for at least the first night. i’ll see you tomorrow though?” you offered, and he nodded in agreement.

your mind was distracted as you shopped for a few things at the store; luke’s nephew being in town was bringing up some memories that you’d spent years trying to forget. memories of your own adolescence. you just hoped things were easier for luke and jess than they had been for you.

•

it was nearly eleven at night when there was a knock on the door. after a quick glance through the window, you opened the door to see luke standing there.

“hey - what’s going on is everything okay?”

“uh yeah, sure,” he replied, walking past you and into the house, and you shut the door, walking into the living room to find him sitting on the couch.

“luke?”

“yeah.”

“shouldn’t you be at home with jess? i thought you guys were going to hang out?”

“yeah, uh he went out.”

“he went out?”

“yeah. i think i scared him off,” he sighed, and you took a seat next to him, placing a hand reassuringly on his knee.

“what happened?”

“nothing - lorelai invited me to bring him by for dinner tomorrow, so he can meet her and rory, and he asked if i wanted to play poker and then left,” he shrugged.

“ahh i see.”

“see what?” he asked, and you sighed.

“when i was 17, i got into a lot of trouble - like jess. my parents - may they rot in hell - were assholes who hated me and sent me to live with my aunt. lovely woman - had no idea what to do with me.”

“you’re saying i have no idea what i’m doing?”

“i’m saying, it doesn’t matter if you do everything right, sometimes a kid like that has to decide to come around on their own.”

“why didn’t you ever tell me your parents were dead?”

“i guess it never came up,” you shrugged.

“i’m sorry.”

“don’t be,” you shook your head. “the only thing they ever gave me was the ability to lie about where i was going and which floorboards to step on so they didn’t catch me sneaking out. i’m better off without them.”

“i had no idea.”

“i don’t really talk about them, you had no way to know. i’m okay now. my life is better than i ever imagined it could be, and i have you in part to thank for it,” you kissed his cheek softly, and he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you to lean against his side.

“well i’m glad i could be of service,” he kissed you softly.

“jess will come around, luke. just give him some time. my first night after my parents sent me away i stole a car and lived in it for a week.”

“really?” he asked, looking nervous as if he thought jess might do the same.

“no,” you laughed and he relaxed. “but it did take me a while to settle in.”

“is it a bad time to mention that i told lorelai you would come to dinner tomorrow?”

“of course i’ll be there,” you smiled, snuggling into his side after pressing another soft kiss to his lips.

“i should probably get going in case he comes back to the apartment. he doesn’t have a key.”

“you didn’t give me a key?” you asked with a slight laugh.

“he said he didn’t need one,” luke shrugged.

“ah - you have a locksmith on your hands.”

“you think he can pick locks?” he asked.

“it’s not that hard-“ you raised your hands as he shor you a disapproving glance. “kidding.”

“very funny,” he rolled his eyes playfully. “i really should get home.”

“five more minutes?” you asked, clinging to him tighter so he couldn’t leave the couch.

“okay,” he conceded. “five minutes.”

•

“hey, perfect timing!” lorelai greeted as you stood with luke and jess at her front door. “sookie is about to break the record for the most food served outside of the roman empire.”

“sounds great,” luke replied.

“sure does,” jess agreed. though far less sincerely. the introduction between you and luke’s nephew had gone about as well as you’d expected, but you tried to remember how you felt each time your aunt brought home someone new, so you weren’t taking anything he said too personally.

“so, come on in,” lorelai offered, and jess followed her into the house, looking at some pictures on the wall before finding his way to rory’s room after being introduced to sookie and jackson.

everyone got ready to sit down at the table, rory explaining that jess was just grabbing a soda, before you realized you didn’t have a drink and went to grab one. jess was no where to be seen when you got in there, and you stepped outside to find him on the porch with a beer bottle, which he opened with the railing of the porch.

“not hungry?” you asked, holding your hand out for him to hand over the beer, which he did with a sigh.

“not really,” he agreed.

“don’t worry - i won’t tell anyone about the beer, just don’t let lorelai catch you doing it again.”

“thanks, you’re my hero,” he said sarcastically. “you gonna make me come back inside?” he asked, and you shook your head.

“no, if i was you i wouldn’t want to be in there either to be honest,” you sighed. “lorelai is trying to be nice but all this can be … kind of overwhelming.”

“yeah,” he mumbled.

“did the party move out here and no one bothered to tell us?” lorelai asked, emerging from the kitchen door.

“i’ll be right in, i think jess wants to get some fresh air,” you said, pretty sure she wasn’t gonna like that answer.

“sookie made you a grilled cheese if you don’t like pot roast,” she offered in a sing song voice.

“wow. if i’d have known that-“ jess said mockingly. you knew lorelai was only trying to help luke, but you had a feeling that she was just going to make things worse.

“you really don’t want to be here,” she gathered.

“what gave you that idea?” he teased.

“look, i’ve done this whole act before - but you’ve got a really good thing here with luke, he’s a really great guy. he really wants to take care of you and make things right for you. you’re incredibly lucky to have him,” lorelai went on and on, and even you felt awkward, taking a step back to sit on the porch swing.

“lorelai-“ you started to tell her to tone it down a little, but she ignored you. you knew luke didn’t want her meddling in the situation, him being very much an ‘if i want help i’ll ask for it’ and then never ask type of guy.

“if you give this situation half a chance, you might be suprised at how good it can be, and how much you like living here, and how good it feels to have someone like luke that you can really depend on.”

“that’s funny, i thought she,” he pointed to you. “was his girlfriend. are you sleeping with him too, or something?” jess asked, and though it was inappropriate to say the least, you barely stifled a laugh. it sounded exactly like something you would’ve said when you were his age, and lorelai was definitely laying it on pretty thick about luke.

“excuse me?”

“the whole starry eyed ‘you’re so much better off, just give it a chance’ speech. you’re either really naive, or you’re getting some,” he said, before turning to you. “sorry this might be how you find out you’re getting cheated on.”

“jess, come on-“ you sighed.

“this is my house, and i choose how i get talked to in it.”

“you know, you don’t know anything about me, or my life, or my mom, or luke, so why don’t you doctor laura someone else.”

“i’m going inside, you better not have taken that beer from my fridge,” she pointed to the bottle you had set on the table, grabbing it on her way inside and slamming the porch door.

“that wasn’t very neighborly now was it?” jess mumbled, more to himself than to you, you decided.

“hey, i’m not gonna give you a speech or anything-“

“sounds like you are.”

“she means well, even if she can be a bit… much, sometimes,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“if i have to hear about how perfect my life is now one more time i might go stand in traffic,” he huffed, and to your surprise, he sat down on the opposite end of the porch swing, the chain creaking as he did.

“it’s not worth your time; no one here drives fast enough to do any damage,” you offered, and he almost smiled.

jess pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, earning a side eye from you, and he sighed as he handed it over. you put it out in a small puddle of water on the porch and tossed it in the bin outside the kitchen door, before you heard luke and lorelai arguing in the kitchen.

“they fight like a married couple too,” jess added, and you laughed.

“i can’t disagree with you.”

“you sure they’re not-“

“they’re not. don’t bring it up again,” you advised, and he raised his hands in mock surrender as luke stormed out of the gilmore house.

“let’s go,” he said, looking at the two of you, and jess didn’t hesitate to get up and start walking, and in that moment you were just as eager as he was to get away from the gilmore house.

“i think i should go home. call me tomorrow?”

“you’re ditching me?” luke asked.

“no, i just think me being here isn’t really helping, and maybe you guys need some time to talk. i’ll come to yours if you want me to.”

“he’s had more of a conversation with you than he has with me,” luke argued, and you sighed, looking down at your feet. “i’m sorry, you’re right. i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“okay. i love you,” you said, giving him a kiss before he hurried to catch up with jess, and you started your walk home.

•

for the second time that week, luke showed up at your house unexpectedly, and you opened the door to let him inside. it was your day off work so you hadn’t talked to him since last night, and he still seemed pretty upset.

“hey, what’s up?” you asked.

“i just pushed him in a lake.”

“what?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

“jess. i got this call from taylor that he thinks jess stole the bridge money and i went for confront him and he was being impossible and i just pushed him in. this is bad,” he trailed off mumbling to himself.

“hey maybe it’s not as bad as you think it is,” you tried to calm him down. “how good of a swimmer is he?”

“he’s fine,” he sighed. “he’s wet. i just - i lost it. you’re right; i am in so far over my head i can’t even see my own hat.”

“have you tried turning it around?” you teased, and he gave you a look.

“what was I thinking why did I say yes to this?”

“because you wanted to help him.”

“raising a kid - i don’t even like kids! they’re always sticky, like they’ve got jam on their hands. even if there’s no jam in the house, somehow they’ve always got jam on their hands. i’m not the right guy to deal with that. i have no patience for jam hands!” he spiralled.

“luke, honey. slow down,” you shushed him. “he’s a teenager, not a toddler, so i think you probably don’t have to worry about the jam thing, and you can absolutely do this. but it’s going to take more than two days and an air mattress for you guys to become best friends.”

“i swear i’m gonna kill liz,” he interrupted.

“liz isn’t here. jess is, and you cannot give up on him yet. i know this is not going how you planned but imagine how he must feel.”

“maybe you could talk to him - he doesn’t hate you like he hates me.”

“he does not hate you, luke. he doesn’t know you,” you corrected. “if you want me to talk to him i can try but i don’t know how much that will help. i can’t parent him for you. he’s living under your roof not mine.”

“you’re right,” he sighed.

“as always,” you teased, kissing him on the cheek. “do you want to stay for dinner since you’re here?”

“nah i gotta go find a gnome.”

“excuse me?”

“babette’s gnome - long story.”

“i don’t want to know,” you laughed, and he pulled you into a hug.

“thank you, for talking me out of the crazy tree.”

“you’re welcome. he just needs more time to adjust - his whole life got flipped upside down overnight,” you sympathized. “and so did yours. you need to adjust to this too. just - try not to push him in anymore lakes?” you suggested as luke stepped out the door.

“no promises,” he smiled, before leaving to go find the missing gnome, and you shook your head as you closed the door behind him. at least things were never boring in stars hollow.

#gilmore girls #gilmore girls aesthetic #luke danes #scott patterson #gilmore girls fic #luke danes fic #luke danes imagine #luke danes x reader #luke gilmore girls #scott patterson fic

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tadc-harlequin-au · 5 months ago

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RagaPom fan kid when🥺?

Jk but I ADORE your art so much i might as well be called a believer of it 🙇‍♀️

Harlequin!Jesterdoll fankid - Anya!

I gotchu homie I should probably also clarify that the fankids aren't canon-

This is Anya, or Aanya Belle. She is Pomni and Ragatha's child, and is the second child puppet to ever grace the world. Quite possibly the most emotional one too, earning her the title "Little Sensitive Poppet". She's sweet and empathetic like Ragatha, but she doesn't have a temper. She instead inherited her harlequin mom's intense emotional reaction, but for other emotions. Her classification is a Mannequin.

She gets scared quite easily and ends up crying for hours, which made Jax give up a teddy bear he had been keeping near and dear to him. Aanya has been never seen without the teddy bear ever since.

Yes, to everyone's surprise, Jax is good with kids.

She has the largest sense of empathy out of anyone, a trait clearly inherited from Ragatha. So much so to the point that she's willing to abandon her "safety spot" (which is any furniture she can hide behind) and comfort you with her teddy bear if she so much as senses you're upset.

Her relationship with her half-brother was a little rocky at the start; Cade was overexcited over the idea of a new playmate (that wasn't Bubble) and kept wanting to bite her fingers off, and so had to be kept in his favorite box to calm him down, and make him get used to his new half-sister's presence. Soon enough, he learned to get along, and eventually, their sibling bond strengthened.

Cade would hug Anya if he notices that she's distressed (which is something that my irl baby brother does and I used it as inspo here) and would not hesitate to step in the big brother role to protect her if there's a threat.

He also attends her miniature tea parties, although for some reason he likes to stay in his box when the tea party commences. He never touches the teddy bear either, and even seems to want to avoid to touch it. Pomni thinks it's because he doesn't wanna end up ruining it.

When Cade turned six months, Ragatha started avoiding Caine, which made the puppetmaster confused. There were no more invites to tea parties, no more friendly talks, and no longer did Ragatha ask Caine if he had another vinyl she could listen to. All the more, Pomni looked extremely guilty everytime they would talk, and looked like she really wanted to tell Caine something.

Caine didn't prod at the girls' relationship, since he knows it's not exactly his concern/nor is it his business. But when one day that Pomni came rushing in to his office for help because Ragatha collapsed in pain, Caine wasted no time rushing to her aid.

Once all symptoms were described to him, he immediately managed to connect the dots that Ragatha's die was also housing two souls, and that it went on for so long, it was already starting to kill her off FOR GOOD. When the puppetmaster asked why she had kept it a secret, Ragatha admitted that she felt guilty; Cade was already in this world and that she had no right to have a child with Pomni, yet here it was.

Caine was immensely disappointed, but not because of the little soul's existence. Instead, he was upset that Ragatha would rather risk her very own life for something so non-trivial, and that the doll was freaking out over nothing. After an intense and dangerous procedure since the incomplete soul's grip onto Ragatha was stronger than Cade's was, Caine managed to extract and transfer the soul, but Ragatha remained unconscious for three moons because of the exertion it took.

He told Pomni to keep the die for now, and wait until Ragatha wakes up, so they can both decide whether they want to keep the little one or not. Pomni, guilt-ridden, questions why he's remained calm, and not exploded over the fact that she and Ragatha created a new existence without his permission, and Caine simply replies "Whoever told you that you both needed my blessing for it, needs their heads bashed in"

Eventually, Ragatha wakes up and apologizes to Caine for giving him so much trouble. The puppetmaster is quick to comfort the mannequin, and that he's relieved that Ragatha survived. He then reassures both Puppets that they didn't have to keep secrets like this from him out of shame, since their polyamory relationship was consensual from both parties in the first place. After a reconciliation, Caine asked the question: Will they keep the soul, or not?

They chose to keep it. And in only a few months thanks to Caine's prior knowledge, Anya was officially welcomed into the world.

#tadc #tadc au #harlequin au #tadc harlequin au #the amazing digital circus #ragapom fankid #pomni x ragatha #ragatha x pomni #I said I wanted to make a ragapom fankid AND NOW I'VE DONE IT #shaking and crying and sobbing all over again #I CAN'T TAKE THIS.... /pos #art #fankid #fanchild #fan character

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get-back-homeward · 1 month ago

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Peacock: Can you tell me about the first track, “Let ’em in?”

Paul: It was half-written with Ringo in mind actually. He asked me to write him a tune and there was that one and another one. In the end, I told him I was nicking it and he could have the other one. I just got this idea for a song about someone knocking on the door, someone ringing the bell, and then in the middle, I got into the idea of naming people, just sort of symbolic of a crowd coming in… Sister Suzie, Brother John. Who’s Brother John?

Peacock: I was wondering…

Paul: Whoever you want it to be really, Uncle Ernie? Keith Moon flashing, I suppose, but the trouble with talking about things like that is .. that’s you’ve got to make an excuse for it all after. Someone says, “What did you mean by that?” And really I don’t know. It just comes into your head. Brother Michael — that’s obvious — that’s my brother Michael! Auntie Jin — I’ve got an Auntie Jin, Brother John — that could be whoever you want.

Peacock: Do you get fun out of the thought that people are going to sit down trying to work out the meaning behind lyrics like that?

Paul: It would be great if I wasn’t the ultimate authority on it. It would be just like “Match of the Day” watching them all go around delving into who the Walrus or Brother John is. I mean, to me Brother John is John Lennon, or Linda’s got a brother called John. I suppose it’s anyone’s brother John, but to me, it’s John Lennon. But not in any weird way. It just came out like that. So rather than hide it or change it, I left it. But now, they’re going to ask me. That’s the only problem, that’s the reason it’s not so much fun as it could be because there’s always someone coming up saying “What did you mean by…” or “Linda is Venus, you’re Mars — right?” Wrong, they’re planets, remember?

Peacock: Do you ever take things out because they might be misinterpreted?

Paul: No, I don’t think I ever do that, because normally when it’s writ itself then it’s writ. I don’t really much around with it too much. It’s like most things — you do a painting and think it’s not quite right so you do it again and it’s worse. Like a record — you can go on beyond the right take, but it’s never better. No, I don’t take things out for that reason, in fact, I’d leave things in because people were going to talk about them.

April 3, 1976: Paul McCartney talks to Steve Peacock for Street Life (Vol. 1, Issue 12, Apr 1976)

#paul: the songs ab whatever you want it to be but for me it’s ab john #bug essentials #songwriting #the 1970s #1976 #paul interview #venus and mars #mine #fav #pauls printer brain #paul doesnt fiddle with his lyrics john does #important difference #you can hear in the demos #pauls are almost always a carbon copy of the final while johns evolve #if he started it for ringo that explains the brother bit #john and paul #paul and ringo

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lilac-5ky · 1 year ago

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Roommates from Hell, pt.1 (Toji x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 1: Stolen Fries taste best

(pic from loving yamada at lvl999, adorable manga, recommend)

Chapter 2 | Story Masterlist | Masterlist

Plot: Out of all the women that come and go in Toji's life, you're the only one he calls his friend. But when he suddenly forces his way into your apartment, the feelings you've kept from him are put to the test.

Setting: Pre Hidden Inventory Arc. Toji and reader are both in their late twenties, no Megumi in picture... yet :p

Themes: Cohabitation, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers

Warning: Slight sexual content minus the actual smut.

A/N at the bottom

“You’re late. Again.”

The small silver bell at the top of the glass door notified you of a man’s arrival, his heavy steps refusing to wipe themselves upon entry, spreading mud all over the now-blotted checkered tiles of the dimly lit diner. You’d been expecting the owner of those shoes for the past six hours, his untimely arrival coming as a bitter aftertaste to an afternoon full of childish joy and mayhem— popped balloons, colorful confetti, and half-eaten pieces of cakes swept into one big pile at the room’s southernmost corner by yours truly.

“I never said I was coming,” the voice retorted, its defiant sound overshadowed by the gruesome screech of a metallic chair. “Not interested in celebrating some brat’s b-day, ‘specially if it ain’t mine.”

“How many helpless children must have spent their birthdays without their no-good father, I wonder,” you wiped your hands against your cherry-red apron, pushing the broom back into place. “If your goal is to repopulate Japan, I’m certain you’ll succeed.”

Hefty fingers mindlessly combed through a head of obsidian black, little spikes forming and then settling back down. “None, as far as I’m concerned,” sarcasm dripped from his tongue.

“Well, I find that hard to believe,” you mumbled under your breath, circling through the room to ensure everything was dealt with: leftovers in the fridge, gift wrappings in the bin, and the large aforementioned pile of garbage waiting to be scooped up. “You’ve known Kenzo since birth. Even if this ain’t your thing, the least you could’ve done was make an appearance. He kept asking about his favorite uncle all night long.”

“Except I’m not his uncle. Don’t mix me in with your sister’s family, I ride solo.”

Sigh.

“My sister’s family might as well be your family, Toji. You know how much Hinata and her kids adore you.”

“Good for them, I suppose.”

Another sigh.

“Can you at least tell me what was so important for you to not even pick the goddamn phone up?”

As if the device had grown sentient, a generic tune began tooting from the back pocket of his sweatpants, eradicating your final hope that it’d simply run out of battery.

Without budging from his seat, Toji twisted an arm around his back to pull his flip-phone out, the silver-tinted lid slamming shut as soon as he’d peered at the caller’s number, his next immediate move being to drown the sound in a glass of leftover Coke, fizzy bubbles playing the device’s final requiem.

You didn’t need to ask to know it was a woman, and he didn’t need to answer that she, whatever the name of his latest conquest was, happened to also be the reason for his being unfashionably late.

It was always like that. He was always like that. He went out with one girl after the other; from women of extreme beauty and poise to mindless bimbos who couldn’t tell tea leaves and coffee beans apart. He’d spend some cash to butter them up with expensive meals at overpriced restaurants, or VIP entrance at the hottest club, or even pay for the name tag on their designer clothes, but come next morning, he was either caught stealing straight out of their pockets or checking whether the tag was still attached to the dress for him to return it to the store—at which point, the vast majority gave up, except for those few poor souls who earnestly believed they could fix him, though they never would.

If there were two things in this world that remained unfaltering and resolute throughout the eons, then that was the earth’s orbiting the sun, and Zen’in Toji’s being the bastard of a man you knew and loved— special intonation of that last part.

It was quite the oxymoron. To know him as an irredeemable scumbag with no intention of changing, and to love him for all he was; a sentence as contradictory and controversial as the man before you. What was there to love? He never gave two shits about the people around him dying, and if he could encourage or partake in their deaths then he certainly would. He gambled every cent of cash in his hands away, and his every attachment ended with the disposal of his used-up condom. He was vulgar, cynical, and brass, and he possessed a great charisma of making people dislike him at first glance. His only saving grace was his good looks and even those he managed to scrape on a daily basis.

So, really, what was there to love about a man whose place fitted best among the pile of garbage in the corner? What was the point in all that?

He never answered your question, and when you realized he wasn’t planning to, you dragged a second chair to his side, propping your elbows first and then your chin over the vinyl backrest, feet landing at each side. You took in his expression— sour and undeniably agitated, with a frown tugging at the scarred corner of his lower lip, and a glare too icy to be meant for the wall of American-styled neon billboards he mercilessly studied. Something definitely bothered him, and as a huff stiffened his chin, the reason became evident enough for you to point at it.

“Woman or work?” you gestured at the blood that dribbled below his ear and down his neck.

He followed your forefinger with his eyes, thumb scrubbing where the gush began. He seemed oblivious to his injury, though it wasn’t as if his becoming aware changed a thing.

“So it is a woman,” you gladly seized the chance to rub salt into his wound, drawing a frustrated grumble from him.“What did you do this time? Stole her car and crashed it into a tree? Blew all her savings on cockfight betting?”

“Horse races,” he had the nerve to correct.

“Or… did you by any chance bring an uncalled ménage à trois to her bed?”

“What kind of man you take me for?” Toji protested.

“A very, very, veeeery bad man,” you smirked, and he returned it. You knew him like the back of your hand. There was no need to pretend otherwise after well over a decade’s worth of friendship.

“If a very bad man is what I am, then why’d ya let me in?” he asked. “A young unprotected woman all by herself in the middle of the night letting such scum in never ends well. Thought you were smarter than this.”

“If I was smarter, then I wouldn’t be calling you my friend, would I?”

His grimace turned into a full-blown devilish grin, the kind that secretly had your heart buzzing against the frail set of bones of your chest. He always looked so dazzling when he smiled, that sometimes you couldn’t find fault in those women wanting to believe in his pretty lies, because you, too, wanted to. You hoped that whatever the price for those smiles was, you would one day be able to afford it and gain ownership of his heart, no matter how wretched or blackened it was.

“You are a real idiot to mix it up with me,” he conceded. “Though, you are a greater idiot for letting that term define us. I bet your nights serving meals at some kiddie place get rather lonely. But I could help. I could make you feel really good, Y/N. So good that you’d risk some prick getting in, lest he is me.”

His tongue poked out his mouth, giving his bottom lip a brief lick while he peered at you through half-lidded eyes. He had this way of turning things sexual in the blink of an eye, selling himself so well that your refusal to buy seemed commendable— despite the unmistakable affection you held for his face. Little did he know how much you longed to push that chair to the side and rip his cocky expression along his black-sleeved shirt off his body, making it so that neither of you had a place to hide from the other.

Now, that’d feel good.

“My nights are fine as they are, thank you very much,” you countered your instincts much to his disappointment. “And if I ever needed myself a helping hand, know that you’d be the last I’d call!” Not as if you’d pick up, anyway, you mentally added.

His gust of interest fizzled out as soon as it surged, your rejection forcing him to rock back and forth between the chair’s legs. He wasn’t interested in continuing this. It was enough for him to take in the dusty pink shading of your ears and smile to himself, knowing you were still the kind of woman affected by his charms. Yes, that certainly was enough, for now.

“I’ll clean you up,” you declared, getting off your spot in haste and strolling through the bar in search of a clean towel.

Once you found it, you let it soak under the faucet and brought it back to him, rubbing against his skin regardless of his petty attempt at gritting his teeth. You placed one hand on his shoulder and another at his jaw, pushing them apart to no avail. Every muscle in his body was stronger than your entire bodily force combined, and he was awfully willing to flex that difference between you, just as he was at letting you straddle his hips and climb all over his body like some sort of feral monkey in heat.

A string of profanities that ranged from “bastard” to “shit-eating-asshole-shithead” poured out your mouth while Toji smirked, and smiled, and grinned, and didn’t even try to stop you from knocking the two of you onto the ground, palms barely managing to stable your head over his face. Your pleated skirt had risen, or rather flipped, over your panties, revealing the strawberry pattern panties you were wearing to his greedy hands as they hiked up your flesh without an ounce of shame.

“Wh-What are you doing?!”

“What do you think I’m doing?” he cooed, burying his calloused fingers under the elastic waistband of your underwear.

You felt him trace the inward of your thighs in languid strokes, the fabric stretching the further his hand dipped— closer, and closer to your now-pulsing core, but never so close as to make actual contact. His hot breath tingled your lips, smelling of nothing in particular, but a sweaty tang of a woman’s deodorant that still lingered in his clothes. Had he fucked her before making it here, you wondered, heart tightening at the thought.

Your legs wiggled shut, unable to fully repel his hand, and for a brief moment, you considered letting him go through with this— whatever this was. Even if you came to be another conquest won, you didn’t care. All you needed was for him to hush all logic from your brain, and fuck you senselessly against the checkered tile floor of the “kiddie food place” you served meals at.

“Toji…” you begged, uncertain what you were begging him for until you felt the warmth in your thighs subside.

“Makin’ sure to preserve your maiden’s dignity,” he said as he fixed your skirt in place. “Wouldn’t want some perv catching sight of your cute little ass, would we?”

His condescending tone made you want to throw a slap across his face and then yours; for thinking that maybe this wasn’t a mistake, that you could really move past the pretense of friendship and aim at what you really sought. But he’d been right once before. You were stupid, stupider than all those girls combined, considering you knew and still wouldn’t mind being dragged down with him one bit.

“Fucking asshole,” you blurted as you pushed yourself off him, dumping the cloth on his smug face.

Your lip quivered as you stepped onto your feet, unable to quite shake the feeling of incompletion from your core, walls pathetically clenching around nothingness. You refused to look at him, lest you caved in a second time, and thus you paced around the booths, stopping before the one window whose blinds didn’t block the magnificent parking lot view. Only a black SUV was left— most likely his newest rental.

Following a beep, you watched the lights flicker white, his reflection in the window lifting the chair back up. You crossed your arms over your chest and waited, your impatience and frustration churning into a dangerous mix within your guts, as the asshole whose name wasn’t worth saying moved past you and walked straight to the door, not a single word or goodbye said.

“What about your phone?” you asked, at last paying him a look of spite.

“I’ll text ya my new number.”

“We both know you won’t.”

He glanced over his shoulder and showed you his pearly white canines, his expression not polished enough to be called a smile. You rolled your eyes in the opposite direction, spotting his old device blinking a variety of different lights, refusing to die just like its bastard of an owner.

“What should I do with this?”

“How the hell should I know?” Toji shrugged. “Get rid of it, or toss it in some burger. I’m sure no one will be able to tell the difference. Later,” the bell chimed as the door collided with the frame, chiming a second time as his head popped in a moment later. “Loved the raspberries.”

“They were strawberries, you scatterbrained swine,” you cursed, but he’d heard none of it. The car was gone, and so was he, and it was for the best that he didn’t get to witness the strawberry-colored shadow that loomed over both your cheeks.

Fanning some of that heat away, you returned to the table, surprised to find a white envelope with the name Kenzo hastily written on the front. Cash. Lots of cash. Enough cash to keep a low-end apartment afloat for at least a couple of months. An excuse and simultaneously the answer to all your previous questions.

“You fucking bastard,” you hummed, the term switching to one of utter endearment.

When the first instance of a wintry breeze came charging at the semi-exposed features of your face—a scarf’s fluff tucked right below your nose— you knew that walking all the way to the location where the unknown ID claiming to be Zen’in Toji ordered you to meet up was probably a bad idea.

For starters, you’d turn into an icicle long before making it back to your workplace. Not to mention you had no foolproof way of guaranteeing the person you were about to meet wasn’t some random impersonating psychopath. But when you finally spotted the yellow curvy “M” upon the rectangular red sign that spelled the fast food chain’s name, you narrowed down the psychopaths to that one cheapskate you happened to know.

Walking into the nearly vacant dining area —only the first two booths near the door occupying a family of four each— you detected him almost immediately. He was the only one seated in his wing. Head slightly tilted to look past the window, golden highlights showering the curve of a nose as it arched into thin eyebrows, calm eyes glinting with subtle emerald, and fingers that absentmindedly tapped away onto one of the two paper-covered trays. He had the decency to wait for you before getting into his food, though that didn’t stop him from munching on the occasional fry.

You tugged the handbag off your shoulder and slowly approached him, hesitating to enter his field of view, if just for a moment. He seemed so peaceful and serene, that if you had the guts, you’d snap a picture of him right then and there and make it into your phone’s wallpaper. But you didn’t. You’d never be able to explain it to him in a non-humiliating way, should he catch you in the act, and so, you shook the notion off and marched in his direction, his eyes lighting up in recognition.

“What’s the point of calling me out here for lunch if we are gonna have burgers?” you dropped your bag at the far end of the table. “Why not eat at our place?”

“I like the fries here better,” he bit onto one as if to affirm his claim, licking the salty essence off his fingers. “You should be glad I got you some, too,” he nodded toward the closed dome-shaped box that lay in front of you. “Nuggets over burgers, right? Didn’t know what toy ya wanted though. Cashier girl told me bunnies are quite popular with girls your age, so I went with that.”

Ignoring, or rather postponing your answer to his outrageous suggestion, you peered through the contents of your meal’s box, spotting the wrapped-in-plastic purple-colored bunny key chain right at the bottom between the small portion of deluxe potatoes and even smaller portion of chicken nuggets that still steamed hot air. You were surprised he remembered everything about your order, down to your preference for milkshake over other beverages, and perhaps you would have shown your gratitude if it wasn’t for that last comment of his gnawing at your pride.

“How old did you tell the cashier I was, again?” you gritted, trying to suppress the toy’s cuteness within your fist.

“Didn’t. Just said it’s for some kid I know. Probably thought it was for my daughter or something.”

A pair of googly eyes popped out from their sockets, the bunny’s head in serious danger of coming right off.

“Stop acting like an old man,” you muttered in embarrassment. “A nine-month head start in life doesn’t make you old enough to be my father.”

“Still older than you, kid,” said Toji, his fingers latching onto his wrapped-up burger. “Now eat up. Didn’t pay ya lunch for it to go cold.”

Annoyed by his remarks, but oh-so terribly starved, you decided to let things slide, the two of you lunching in a period of temporal truce. He went through his burger in big bites, clearing it out before you even finished your portion of nuggets. You mildly wondered why he’d held off if he was this hungry, but didn’t press on the reason behind his invitation until after his tray was half-emptied.

“So… why’d you wanna meet up? Got something to tell me?”

“Mhm, I actually do. How would you like us to be room—Nah, that doesn’t sound too right,” Toji shook his head off, dusting the excess salt off his fingers. “I decided I’m moving in with you.”

“You, what?!?” You shrieked, eyes wide with shock, resembling those of your newly acquired key chain.

“What I just said. I’m moving in,” he repeated as if you hadn’t heard him the first time around. “Got everything right here. I’ll pop by later so you can show me my room.”

You glanced down at what he tapped as “here”, spotting a large black duffel bag that rested on his feet. He wasn’t joking, you panicked. He was being 100% serious about this. Directing your milkshake to your mouth, you took a nervous sip, nearly choking on the plastic straw between your teeth, while Toji kept staring at you, awaiting no answer in particular. After all, he wasn’t asking. He was proclaiming.

“Why would you want that?” you asked once you regained the ability to think rationally. “Weren’t you the one who said you ride solo?”

“Numerous reasons,” he stated, drawing his forefinger forth as if to recount. “For starters, rental prices going up, gas too. Inflation in the market and all that crap. Your place is also closer to work, and” he leaned closer, “wasn’t your neighborhood the one on the news recently? You know, those serial break-and-enter cases? As far as I’m aware, the culprit’s still running loose, could be a cursed spirit or something. You can’t see ‘em, but I can. I’ll keep ya safe. Wouldn’t you want that? Sounds like a fair deal to me, at least.”

The repetitive pattern of a catchy pop song blasting from the speakers served as a backdrop to your thoughts, eyes flickering between the table and his face. He wasn’t exactly wrong about what he said. The girl next door was the robber’s last victim, and from what you’d gathered, it seemed like the ones targeted were exclusively single women in their twenties. Curse or not, that was the intruder’s type, and you just so happened to tick both of those boxes.

From a standpoint of reason, his suggestion sounded fair alright, but this was Toji we were talking about. The man whose name was your first thought in the morning and the final afterthought in the night. The man you were coincidentally in love with.

Living with him would entail being around him a lot more than you could handle. Waking and sleeping and eating in the same house as him, spending your days off together, bickering about bills, take-out, and the TV remote’s ownership, doing things that only couples got to do, and of course, sharing a bathroom, which on its own meant seeing him parade through the cramped little space of your apartment in nothing but a soggy towel, hair slick and teeth beaming as he’d be asking if you’d like to join him in the shower—

You hit the break on these thoughts and pressed your forehead flat against both palms, feeling the heat exuding through your fingers. You were only able to keep this relationship platonic because of the distance he put between you. If he were to suddenly close it, what would come of you? How on earth would you be able to hold back?

“Don’t you want me?”

“Huh?” you bit at the straw again, snapping it in half.

“I said, you hate the idea of living with me that much?”

Toji certainly didn’t mince his words, but the way he was looking at you, brows furrowing and lips quivering into a frown despite the edge in his tone, almost made it seem as if hearing your rejection out loud would hurt him, and because of that, you had no choice, but to shake your head in denial. You wanted this. More than words could express, you wanted to be with him like that, even if you refrained from disclosing that truth.

You wanted him.

“What about your girlfriends? Wouldn’t they be against you living with some woman?”

“Nah, I’m done with that. Done with all of ‘em.”

“But my apartment is too small. I don’t think it’d suit you—”

“I’ll manage,” he cut you off.

“I don’t even have a second bed-”

“We can always share,” he smirked, letting out a light-hearted chuckle as he watched color paint your cheeks. “Couch is fine, too. So, whaddya say, roomie?”

“…Fine,” you conceded, very well knowing you’d come to regret this decision. “But we need to set some ground rules! No trashing the apartment, no throwing your ‘work tools’ all over the place, no smoking, no drinking, no loud music, and no bringing in random women. No starting fights either! You’ll help around and pay half of what’s needed, so no gambling your money away. Those are my terms.”

“You drive a hard bargain, roomie,” Toji said, balancing his chin atop his elbow. “Fine by me. Told you I’m done with half those things anyway, and I don’t mind helping you with anything. I mean that.”

But I could help. I could make you feel really good, Y/N.

His words from that night still lingered in your mind like an unfulfilled promise, and when he phrased it like that, you couldn’t help but be reminded of how good his hands felt that night, creeping all over your skin as if he owned it— as if he owned you.

“G-good!” you said, picking up a fry off his tray and tossing it in your mouth, lest you said something stupid.

“No one taught you stealing other people’s food is rude?” Toji shot you a glare unequal to your crime.

“It’s not stealing if you are done with it!” you protested. “You haven’t touched your fries in over ten minutes now.”

His tongue clicked against his mouth’s roof, producing a series of “tsk” sounds while he shook his head in disapproval. “Didn’t take ya for such a brat, Y/N. Disrespecting me in my face right after we came to an agreement? That’s some bad business ethics.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment, barely keeping yourself from groaning. “I’m so terribly sorry, sir. I shouldn’t have stolen your esteemed fries, sir. Won’t ever happen again, sir. Please allow me to express my profound remorse, sir.”

Although Toji knew you only addressed him as such to get on his nerves, he was still pleased enough to grace with you an unsuspecting smile, seconds before you shoved a ketchup-covered potato against his mouth, smudging the left corner of his lips in a way akin to that of his right corner scar. He blinked, clouds of fury gathering in the bleakness of his eyes and cheeks puffing up, painting the most adorable expression you’d ever seen him wear.

“So cute,” you gushed, unable to suppress a hearty laughter that agitated him even more, red blooming across his cheeks— most likely by the lack of oxygen, you interpreted.

“Fucking brat,” he hissed, dipping the last of his fries in ketchup and then stuffing your mouth with it before you could even react. “I’ll show ya how it’s done!” he declared, your lips puckering against his fingers, condiment spreading all over like lipstick. His other hand forced your head in place, stilling your chin for him to work on his masterpiece, making a much bigger mess out of you than you had made of him.

“Hmphmmph!” you hummed while Toji laughed, a deep sound that reverberated straight from his guts, his eyes glinting along with his teeth in sheer joy that convinced you to give up so as to not spoil his fun. It was rare to see him genuinely happy.

“That should teach ya to behave,” he spat, smugness in every aspect of his features as he pressed his thumb onto his mouth, cleaning the ketchup off with a lick. “But you did address me properly, so you’ve earned the right to choose. Napkin or my lips? Which one?”

Stupefied as you were, you didn’t understand the full context of his question until you felt the sudden warmth of his mouth flutter over your skin, the tip of his tongue sloppily gathering the leftover ketchup off your right cheek. Your jaw popped open, a small gasp escaping as a result of his action.

“Too slow,” Toji whispered, hooded green eyes peering right into yours. “I’ll ask again. Napkin or my lips? What’s it gonna be, doll?”

“N-n-n-napkin!” you must have stuttered at least a thousand times before forming a comprehensible answer. He was so close that if he tilted his head any closer your lips were sure to touch. “P-please get me a napkin.”

“Please?” he chuckled, acting as if was really going to kiss you and then pulling away. “Be right back.”

Even after Toji let go, you could still feel the weight of his thumb holding you down, your eyes zeroing in on his black sweater as he set off for the other side of the room where the napkin and condiments stand was located. You heard a few whispers coming from beside your table, catching three pairs of eyes shooting daggers right at your back.

“Don’t they have a home?” a woman’s voice echoed first.

“Kids these days…” a man added.

“Honey, don’t look at their sinfulness, it’s the devil’s work.” A second woman concluded.

You were on the verge of experiencing a cardiac arrest, and you were pretty darn sure you would have if Toji hadn’t returned with the napkins in time, his hand snatched by yours as you forcefully dragged him out of the place, spelling frantic apologies at whoever was listening.

Once you’d made it outside, you sighed in relief, winter’s viciousness coming as a much-needed slap across your face. You took in a few breaths, letting go of his hand and padding a few steps away from the store’s windows, afraid you were still the focus of their attention. Toji followed, one hand stuffed inside his jeans pocket, while the other held the duffel bag over his shoulder in a lazy manner.

“Can you give me a lift to work?” you managed to ask, dodging his stare even as he stepped to the front.

“I would, but I can’t. Gave the car away.”

“You did what?”

Nothing about your reaction was funny in any shape or form, but he seemed amused enough to break into a soft chuckle, his eyes, too, softening ever so slightly.

“Planning to walk around town like a bloodsucker?” he asked, bringing a napkin to wipe your lips with greater care than you’d think. “How dirty,” he cooed, gently tapping at the center. “Next time, I won’t ask for permission to kiss you, roomie. Let’s go.”

“W-Where?” your voice came out so frail that you doubted he’d heard your question, his bag bouncing over his taut body with every step he took outside the parking lot.

“You asked for a ride, didn’t ya? Come.”

A/N: Launching a new series because I have so many feelings bottled up that I'm in danger of farting hearts and rainbows and shit. Decided to take the time off and write this fic for myself cause I needed it, but then I thought why not share it with the world? First time writing for Jujutsu Kaisen and Toji in particular, so hopefully it's received well!

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alistairtheyrin · 4 months ago

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the bard of riverbrook farm, pt. ii

la belle dame sans merci, frank bernard dicksee

aemond targaryen x lowborn!reader

masterlist | ao3

summary | help with the harvest comes from the most unlikely source - the one-eyed man from the inn - and your curiosity about what he is hiding beneath his courtesies only grows.

tags | secret identity, soft romance, bard!reader, no use of y/n, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, discussions of trauma related to war, gender-neutral pronouns

wordcount | 3.8k

likes, reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated 💞 lyrics are not mine this time but from A Storm of Swords

The band of wandering men left empty-handed by the war moved on in the end, what work there was in the village done, what hospitality could be afforded to them spent.

You didn’t even realise the man with one eye from the inn had stayed until he came wandering up the lonely track to your farm.

You were bent over, pulling up carrots in the field, stopping only to mop sweat from your brow, and your back was aching. You always bit back on your complaints, though, because your parents were working on the next row over, swapping the baby in her wrap between them whenever it got too much to bear in the summer sun.

Your father was the first to notice a stranger's approach and passed off your gurgling sister so he could approach the man.

“Ho, stranger,” your father called, letting the one-eyed man know he was spotted in case that was enough to deter him. You recognised him from the inn, though, and felt a hint of a smile on your lips. No, you did not think this was some common thief.

“Ser,” the man, strangely formal as ever, inclined his head. Even when he raised his voice to be heard over the distance and the wind, his tone did not change from that calm, collected way he had. “The innkeeper in town said you might need an extra pair of hands for your harvest. I came to offer my services.”

Good Beck, always sticking his nose in, you thought, holding back a roll of your eyes. You made your way down the field, your half-full basket on your hip, and came to your father’s side. “I remember you,” you said, “from the inn.” You could still sometimes feel the ghost of his lips on your hand.

His eye met yours. He looked glad to see you but not surprised. “The bard,” he said, “have you finished your song yet?”

“Not quite,” you said, biting your lip to stop you from smiling.

Your father, for his part, looked wary. “You fought in the war?” he asked, and the man nodded. He did not ask what side. It was generally accepted that you did not ask that question in these parts when the peace remained new and uneasy.

“Another pair of hands would be good,” your father said wearily, “if only so that one of us could focus on the babe instead. But I don’t have much to pay you.”

The man shook his head. “Food and shelter is all I ask for, ser.”

Your father hummed, noncommittal. “I don’t much like the idea of strange men under the same roof as my wife and children,” he said. “No offence meant, but you could be anyone. You understand.” Your heart dropped a little at the dismissal, but you noticed he was holding his shovel close to his body and sizing up the stranger. It made sense - men like this stranger were often bad news, driven to desperation by war or indulging depravities that had always been there, lurking just under the surface and only coming out now that the world had gone to hell.

“No, ser, I understand - I did not mean shelter under your roof. I could bed down by the plough horse. I was not clear in my speech; I apologise,” the man said, “but if it is still a no, I will be on my way.”

That spiked a slight panic in you, and you grasped for words. “For what it’s worth, father, he was kind at the inn,” you said hurriedly. “He wanted to ask me about my songs, the ones I write myself, but he was very respectful.” The man gave you a grateful half-smile for that.

Your father hesitated, considering both your words, just as the stranger was shifting to go. “Stop,” he said. You could see him thinking. The door to the house was always barred at night, and you and your mother had carried blades concealed in your clothes since the war broke out. It might be worth the risk, to get an extra pair of hands on the field and get this sowing of carrots up before any started to soften. Most would need to travel to Raventree Hall before they were sold, and the steward would not pay the full price unless they were fresh. Your father looked back at your mother, who was bouncing the baby on her hip, and she gave him a slight nod. “Okay, we’d like to have you on for the next moon or so. There’s a spare stall in the stable where you can bed down if you’ll help me clear some equipment out of it.”

The one-eyed man was visibly relieved and offered your father a hand to shake, which your father grasped firmly. “Thank you, ser,” he said.

“I’m no ser,” your father said, but he looked a little pleased to be addressed as such.

“There’s broth on for tonight,” your mother added helpfully, calling down the field and shading her eyes from the sun with her spare hand. “Bread was fresh yesterday.”

“Sounds perfect,” the man said, and for all the light in his eye at that, he seemed to say it genuinely.

Your father was clapping him on the shoulder and leading him off to the paddock that housed the small stable when you stopped them with your voice. “Wait! What was your name?”

The man stopped dead in his tracks, and you may have been mistaken, but you thought you saw his jaw go a little tighter and his eye a little wider. He wavered, then cleared his throat. “Uh, Luke,” he said.

Your mother and father did not seem to notice his hesitation, but you narrowed your eyes at him, and he had the good grace to swallow hard before he was led away.

Luke, you thought, testing the name on your tongue. You had a feeling that getting to know each other would be very interesting indeed.

— ∞ —

“You know, if you were going to lie about your name, you probably should have thought about that before someone inevitably asked what your name was.” It was the height of the day, and you were irritable, the collar of your shirt becoming damp and yellow with sweat, the basket on your hip growing harder and harder to lift.

It had been a few days since the man - Luke - arrived, and you had already learned to like having him around. He was an able young man, strong, and his pace of work meant that sometimes both your parents could afford to rest when the sun reached its peak. You were glad - they were not so young as they once were, and neither of them got to spend enough time with the babe anyway.

It was such a day today - the two of you were deep in the fields, pulling up the crops and loading your bounty onto a cart - and Luke gave you a bewildered glance. He was starting to do that more and more to you in answer to your pointed questions. “I’m lying about my name, am I?” He asked as though it was not already a foregone conclusion.

You huffed out a laugh. “Given how you positively shit yourself when asked the most simple question a person can ask you about yourself, I would wager so.”

“So you’re a gambler as well as a bard?”

“You can’t answer a question with a question,” you pointed out, huffing as you lifted your now-full basket onto your hip.

He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t ask me a question; you just levelled an accusation at me,” he said, but there was no heat in it as he left his own basket for a minute to take yours off your hip and carry it to the cart for you. You did make to protest, but the sun was blazing, and you rather liked the way his shoulders could be seen shifting through his shirt as the sweat-soaked fabric clung to them.

“Fine,” you sighed, “why did you lie about your name?”

He gave you a look, rubbing at his cheek a little where his eyepatch sat with dirt-stained fingers. You wanted to tell him to take it off - it was chaffing him in the heat, and you had seen worse injuries over the years than a lost or damaged eye - but you didn’t want to push your luck. “My name - the name my mother gave me, it’s… recognisable. I told you I don’t know if I could face going home. If someone from my past heard my name being used around here, I don’t think the choice would be mine anymore - to stay or not.”

You thought that over and nodded. “I suppose that makes sense,” you said. “Many folks are running from their pasts ‘round these parts.”

He sighed. “You have an unforgiving way of cutting straight to the heart of the issue. Has anyone told you that before?”

“Mm,” you hummed, smiling. “It’s a useful skill in a bard. People have a way of burying a lead and telling themselves stories, but they’re rarely motivated by anything other than what’s in their hearts.”

He was watching you with something unnameable in his eye.

“Who is Luke, then?” You asked, not letting up for a second.

The look of levity on his face darkened at that, and you almost regretted pressing the issue. “A boy I killed,” he said simply.

You didn’t know what you expected, but you certainly hadn’t expected him to be so blunt. “You knew him?”

“We were family,” he said, passing you back your now emptied basket, but he looked a little distant now. “We found ourselves on different sides of things. He took my eye. I killed him. It was an accident, but it was still my fault.”

You nodded, a heavy feeling in your gut settling. Everyone had done things they weren’t proud of during those years. Every stale crust of bread or overripe apple you stole to feed your family could have been the one that starved your neighbours to death. “So you use the name… what, to keep him alive?”

He considered this. “I suppose it’s something of an apology, yes. I was a boy then - rash and angry. Now that I’m a man, I realise that no matter the wrongs he visited on me, he didn’t deserve to die. If I keep his name with me, I hope he lives on through me, yes, and I hope, wherever he is, he knows I have not forgotten him and what I did.”

“That seems like all you can do,” you said.

“Mm,” he looked away, “it still doesn’t feel like enough.”

“Everyone has done things they can’t make up for,” you pointed out.

He gave you a rueful smile. “I fear I have done more than most.”

— ∞ —

The next time you made your way down to the tavern, lute strung on your back, he followed you.

You pretended you hadn’t heard his footsteps until you were halfway down the village path. Then his boot struck a stone, sending it skittering, and you turned to look.

He was watching you, head tilted, and the look in his eye betrayed an appetite.

“You know, you could have just asked to come with me.”

He smirked, slowly drawing up to you. “I’m not much good at small talk. Thought it better I didn’t bother you.”

You hummed. “I like it when you bother me,” you said.

It felt like a leap of faith, but he was there to catch you.

The music fell from your strings and your lips so easily that night, flowing like honey, like gold, and you had the entire inn swept up in a reverie. There was dancing and laughing and singing along, and Good Beck was toasting to you over the bar and sending you mead faster than you could drink it as he struggled to keep up with his orders.

Your shadow, Luke, watched you from the back of the room all night. He’d bought a pint but didn’t seem to be drinking it, and he was surrounded by people but didn’t seem to be talking to them. He just… watched. Like you were some enrapturing creature singing a siren’s song.

You closed up with your own song, the newest one you’d finished. You’d written it by the fireplace in the evenings, gently rocking your sister’s crib with the toe of your boot. The warm glow of the embers brought to mind the glow of the day, the way his skin glistened, and how he smiled and laughed when you spoke even though he didn’t want to, like he couldn’t help it.

My featherbed is deep and soft,

and there I'll lay you down,

I'll dress you all in yellow silk,

and on your head, a crown.

For you shall be my lady love,

and I shall be your lord.

I'll always keep you warm and safe,

and guard you with my sword.

And how she smiled and how she laughed,

the maiden of the tree.

She spun away and said to him,

no featherbed for me.

I'll wear a gown of golden leaves,

and bind my hair with grass,

But you can be my forest love,

and me, your forest lass.

The song was the warmest of embraces: wildflower blooms in the air, the tickle of grass on your skin, and soft, hot kisses on your neck. You closed out the tune on your lute, and when you looked up, your regulars were roaring their approval, and other villagers were clapping for you. You pulled in ragged breath after breath, struggling after the full set, and when you met Luke’s eye, you didn’t want to fool yourself, but you thought him similarly… breathless.

You made your way from the little stage, lute on your back, free pints in hand, and jerked your head to the door, hoping he’d get the message. Fresh air was a must after a full set, as you were often overheating, and the smells and sounds of inside would become oppressive.

You set your tankards on an overturned barrel and sat down on the riverbank, away from any revellers also seeking fresh air. The brook was low right now—there hadn't been a proper rain in a moon—but the trickling sound was still soothing, still enough to reset the thudding rhythm in your chest.

“Just as mystifying as the first time,” his voice and cadence were becoming deeply familiar at this stage. You looked up, and he was setting himself down next to you, giving you a soft smile.

You waved away his praise with a hand and took a deep drink of your mead. It was sharp and sweet and cutting. “You should be ashamed of yourself, following me out here with a drink to ply me and sweet words on your lips; it’s so obvious,” you jested, and his cheeks went a delightful shade of pink.

He held up his hands. “I recall you beckoning me and supplying the drink. If anyone has ulterior motives, it is you.”

“You’re a strange one,” you said, looking away for a second to follow the path of two village girls stumbling home over the wooden bridge downstream, having overindulged in Good Beck’s homebrew. This place was a different world from what it had been only years ago. You didn’t think you could ever fall out of love with it. “What sort of conscripted village boy uses words like ulterior, anyway?”

He laughed. He’d left his pint he hadn’t been drinking inside, so you pushed the tankard you hadn’t managed to get to towards him. He made a face as he sipped but went back for more all the same. “When did I say I was a conscripted village boy?”

“You didn’t,” you said, with a slow wave of realisation. “I just… thought. The book thing - you’re educated and all that.”

He grinned, and his face in profile was something to behold. You didn’t think you’d ever found a nose so pretty. “Educated, but that never saved me from being a fool.”

“It never does,” you pointed out. “Sometimes, educated people are worse for being fools than farming folk. You’ve got all this extra… shite in your head that helps you make excuses for why you’re doing foolish things.”

“Concise, to the point,” he noted with a dry humour in his voice, drinking deeply from his tankard now. “How did one of the farming folk come to know what ulterior meant if it’s such a graceful, airy word?”

He had you there. You smiled and averted your eyes, taking another drink. It was like a game. Take a drink when the other person proves they’re fit for you, and you see how evenly matched you are in all the ways you never expected to be. “My mother is a clever woman, trained in a mummer’s troupe. She knew the plays, knows how to play this,” you said, tapping the lute strung to your back. “She gave up the mummer’s life when she was younger than we are now - she fell in love, found out she was having me. She says she wanted to build something solid, something permanent, and she wanted to do it with my father.”

He hummed. “My mother was just a girl when she had me, too. She was not in love with my father, though, and he was not in love with her,” he said. “It must be nice… to know you were made in love.”

You wanted to kiss him, then. Burned to. Being made in love was blessed, yes, but it was nothing you could not learn later if only you were willing to. You held back, though, if only because he looked sad and you did not think it was the right time. You reached out a hand instead and rested it on the back of his neck, sweeping your thumb over the base of his skull. He responded to your touch, pushing into your palm, and you smiled.

“Why do you shave your head?” You asked. You’d seen him the other morning, studying his reflection in a bucket of water, scraping stubble off his scalp with a well-kept razor and a bar of soap. It had only been enough hair for you to see that he was fair-headed, but you’d thought that already with his pale skin and piercing eyes.

He screwed his eyes shut for a second, then peered at you sideways, trying out a half-smile. “Would you believe I am already balding horribly? My family is cursed with it, indeed-“

You burst out laughing at that, a terrible snort slipping out, but it made him snicker with you. “Shut up,” you said, “no, you’re not.”

“You’re so heartless, mocking my plight. My grandfather was bald as a coot at four-and-ten, I’ll have you know.”

You snorted again, and he was laughing into his mead, and it was beautiful. As you laughed, you lay back on the riverbank, pushing your mother’s lute to one side for now and pillowing an arm under your head. The night sky was twinkling down on you, broken up only by the glowing light spilling out of the inn, and you sighed. “I’m guessing it has something to do with you being recognisable.”

He sighed and lay down next to you. “Yes.”

Who is recognisable by their hair? You longed to ask, but you knew he would not answer. You rolled onto your side and used the hand not pillowed under your head to reach up and trace his cheek, under where his eyepatch sat. “And why do you never take this off? Even in the height of the day, when it chafes your skin.”

He watched you, either struggling to choose his words or struggling to find any words at all. “You would not mind if I took it off?”

You shook your head. “It causes you pain,” you said, “and I have seen… things.” You swallowed. “I have seen enough of war to know what is ugly in a person - cruelty, vengeance, rabid desire. No injury of the flesh could ever compare to that.”

“You say that as though I have no injury of the soul to match my injury of the flesh,” he said, quiet, solemn.

“I have seen nothing of it!” You answered, sharper than you intended, but you were so sick of him painting himself in such dark colours when you had yet to see anything of the sort. “I see a man tired and worn down by a life that has not been good to him and dealing with that as best as he can—the same as any of us. Only gods and kings are perfect; even then, it’s all just stories. You are doomed to fail if that is what you aspire to. Just… set your sights lower. If you make yourself feel good and you make others feel good… what else matters?”

He swallowed hard. “I…” he stuttered, “I have never aspired to something so humble, yet so terrifying.”

You were cupping his cheek, and the glossy look in his eye was breaking your heart. “What do you want? Right now?”

Maybe the mead made you so bold, or perhaps it emboldened him to choke out an answer.

“You.”

You pressed your lips to his cheek. “You have me,” you murmured.

He reached up, slowly at first, then faster, and pulled you closer. “Am I not… taking advantage? Of your parents’ hospitality?”

You smiled. He was sweet. “My parents only wish to protect me from wandering hands I do not invite. I am not a blushing maiden whose virtue must be guarded by a shining knight. I am just a soul, and I wish to be cherished, like all souls.”

His kiss was as sweet as a sigh, like waking up warm and comfortable with the sun breaking through the window. You gasped into his mouth as he pulled you close, almost on top of him, arms twisting around you like he was afraid you might vanish if he did not hold on.

He was shivering under your lips and the tips of your fingers, and you wrapped yourself around him, chasing off the cold. He kissed like he was savouring something incredible—slow and lazy, nearly forgetting to gasp for air. By the Seven, he was so severe, so earnest, he even kissed with seriousness and earnestness. Your breathing was haggard, and he broke the kiss at last, your lips shining and only an inch from his. He held your cheek, ran his thumb under your eye, and pressed a kiss to the bridge of your nose.

“Good?” You asked, your voice wavering and unsteady.

He smiled and kissed you again. “Glorious.”

a/n: experimenting with focusing on the writing more than the editing, so this might be pretty rough - let me know if you spot anything that needs fixed/improved!

taglist (dm/reply to be added): @dracaryxzs

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen #hotd #aemond targaryen imagine #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell x reader

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thesweetnessofspring · 23 days ago

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In my upcoming project The Huntress and the Beast, Prim was never reaped and Peeta became the sole victor of the 74th Games, earning the nickname "the Beast." Ostracized by society after a horrifying incident at the end of the war solidified his nickname, Peeta retreats to live on the mountainside alone. Years later, Katniss takes a position to live with Peeta and eat dinner with him each night for one year, partly to make up for the bread that saved her family and partly to escape Gale's marriage proposal. Each chapter is one month of this year, as Everlark grow together and build a home.

Or, an Everlark "Beauty and the Beast" retelling.

Leading up to the release of the first chapter, I'm going to be posting a snippet each Wednesday, one for each month of the year. Today's snippet is from Chapter Four: April. The first chapter will be released on January 1, 2025. See other released snippets here.

Read the snippet below:

“Did you have another nightmare?” he asks. “Or am I still too loud?” I crack a smile. “Nightmare this time.” “This time?” he asks. “It’s a wonder you’re still here, I must keep you up all night.” “The food’s too good,” I say, elbowing his side. “Keep that up and you might not get me to leave.” “Dangerous knowledge to give me,” he says. “What’s been your favorite so far?” “That’s asking too much. You’ll have to figure it out.” He gives me a sideways look, squinting one eye. “It’s the cheese buns, isn’t it?” I elbow him harder this time, gasping and laughing in disbelief. I don’t know whether to be pleased or mortified that he knows this about me. I like to think people can’t read me or really know me, not unless I’ve decided they’re important to me. Only what else did Peeta have to pay attention to out here? “I inhale half the pan each time you make them,” I say defensively. “It wasn’t that hard of a guess.” “You’re not half so mysterious as you seem.” “What could you know about that?” I say. “I have all kinds of mysteries you don’t know about.” “You pretend not to like Belle, but I see you feed her entrails from your hunts,” he says. “You said you’re bad at conversation, but I’ve enjoyed every one with you so far. You explain your decisions as if they’re made purely on practicalities, but ultimately, you think about how they’ll affect your mother and sister. Which means you make your decisions with love first and practicality second.” Once again, there’s a confusing bubbling of emotions hearing Peeta talk like this. Underneath alarm about his motivation to pay so much attention to me is a happiness that his opinion is so positive. It reminds me of the conversations that Capitol commentators had during Peeta’s Games. He was able to win over the boy from District 11 when he saw the affection the giant boy had for the little girl from his district. They’d made an alliance to protect the two girls first above themselves. Marigold, the District 12 girl, died first. Then Thresh died protecting Rue and Peeta from Cato. After the Games, it had been marked as a strength of Peeta’s: to observe his opponents and persuade them to his side. Only, Peeta had tried to keep his promise to get Rue safely home, despite the analysis that he’d manipulated others to his advantage.

The Huntress and the Beast will have its first chapter up on January 1, 2025

#the huntress and the beast #thatb sneak peek #everlark fanfiction #thg fanfiction #everlark

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starsreminisce · 2 months ago

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Happy Elain Day!

for @elainweekofficial

Word Count: 3K

It was a small shop in the town square, one Elain had passed frequently since she began preparing for her wedding. Its unassuming facade lent it an air of mystery, unlike the neighboring shops, whose glittering displays beckoned to window shoppers. Wedding planning had become exhausting, made worse by the constant clashes between Graysen and Nesta over the dress, the food, the location. But Elain saw through her sister's action. She knew exactly why Nesta was being so difficult: she wanted Graysen to reconsider marrying into their family so he would break it off, sparing them the shame or delay until their father could give the proper blessing.

Elain had never cared for a grand wedding even as a child, so when she suggested they elope, Graysen launched into a lecture.

“Now, Elain,” he began, his tone bordering on condescending. “I am a lord's son. We can't elope like peasants, especially given our status in society. People might think you're with child.”

Elain glanced up at the clock tower in the town square. She still had half an hour before her appointment, but the thought of Graysen and Nesta bickering over the flower arrangements, something she wished she could at least have a say in, made her stomach churn.

The black brick of the shop and its tinted windows beneath a purple awning seemed to call to her today more so than the other days. It would only be thirty minutes, she reasoned. Even if she were to get lost in the place, she doubted her fiance or sister would notice if she was late to the florist, considering how little they’ve considered her opinions with everything else. Besides, what if the shop was actually empty? She had never seen anyone enter or leave.

Taking a deep breath, she marched toward the door. Her hand rested on the handle, and to her surprise, it opened.

A small bell chimed as she peeked inside. The shop had no displays, nothing to sell. The only decor was a single table with two comfortable-looking chairs set across from each other. The scent of burning sage lingered in the air, and tapestries of the beginning of Prythian adorned the walls.

She should have left. Instead, she stepped fully inside, her eyes drawn to the strange story the tapestries told. One in particular was a woman with outstretched hands holding a sphere that captivated Elain. Gooseflesh prickled her skin as she realized she was inside of a shop belonging to a Fae sympathizer.

Graysen and Nesta's voices echoed in her mind, berating her for her fae sympathies, even though their sister Feyre had left the family to live with a Fae lover. Even though their father had always reminded them that they all shared this land.

“Hello, dearie,” a croaking voice stopped her from leaving.

Elain spun around to see a weathered woman. Long, graying hair cascaded past her shoulders. She wore a deep blue dress, and a silver circlet with a pale blue stone rested between her brows. Her eyes were sharp as she looked at Elain with interest.

“I was just leaving,” Elain murmured, avoiding eye contact.

“Have you been having doubts about your upcoming marriage?”

Elain’s gaze dropped to her left hand, where her pearl-and-diamond ring sat. She curled her fingers into a fist, as if she could hide it. She wasn’t sure if the crone had seen it before she asked.

“I'm sure it's just normal wedding jitters,” Elain managed, inching toward the door. “Thank you for your time.”

“Then would you want to know about the man in your dreams?”

That gave Elain pause, her heart pounding at the words. She had never told anyone about him. The mystery man had appeared in her dreams only a few days after Feyre left. His face was always hidden behind a fox mask, and each dream left her more unsettled than the last.

In the first, she saw him being flogged. His back was torn open, but his face stayed calm, refusing to show any pain.

In the second, he was drugged, dragged, and chained beneath a bed of spikes, yet he remained still, as if resigned to his fate.

The third dream was filled with violence. Nightmarish creatures attacked him, but with unnatural speed, he fought them off, cutting through them effortlessly even after he fell off his horse.

But the last dream was the most haunting. She had watched him stand before the same golden beast that had taken Feyre from them.

Elain swallowed hard and faced the crone. “Can you stop the nightmares?”

The woman gave a small, sad smile. “No, I cannot.”

“What exactly do you sell?”

“I read fortunes,” the crone said softly. “If the Mother deigns to show you who the man is, you will see.”

Elain’s curiosity gnawed at her. Her head urged her to leave, to let it go, reasoning that if it were important, the answers would come in time. But her heart… her heart needed to know. She needed to know who he was, why his presence in her nightmares lingered long after she woke, as if his pain was somehow hers to bear.

“How much?” she asked, her better judgment faltering.

“Whatever you can offer.”

Elain hesitated, her mind bouncing from one thought to another, until she felt a tug low beneath her ribcage. Fortune readings were becoming popular among her friends, she reasoned. Surely, there was nothing dangerous about it. She found herself nodding and followed the crone to a small table. Taking a seat, she placed a gold mark on the table, which the crone pocketed without a word.

The old woman lit a stick of palo santo, swirling the fragrant smoke through the air, around the deck and the tight space, before resting it in a ceramic holder. Elain watched as the crone shuffled her cards. The rhythm of it was hypnotic, and time seemed to blur, until finally, the crone paused. Her brows knit together, and she tilted her head, as if listening to a voice only she could hear, before drawing the cards.

Three cards: Four of Wands reversed, Tower, Death.

“Not good,” the crone said, her eyes narrowing. “The foundation is shaky. Something will come to destroy its foundation, causing you to be reborn.”

Elain immediately thought this woman was a scam artist, waiting to peddle crystals and old bath water to salvage her engagement. She could almost see the words forming on the crone’s lips, ready to spill out like a rehearsed script.

She was ready to leave until the crone pulled three more cards: Ace of Cups, Knight of Swords, The Sun.

“There is someone new coming,” the crone continued. “He will come like a knight in shining armor, one who reminds you of the sun.”

Elain tried not to scoff. Despite his shortcomings, she loved Graysen with all her heart, and the idea of someone new coming to sweep her off her feet sounded highly unlikely.

“Is it the man from my dreams?” she asked, curious by the crone’s certainty.

Nine of Swords, Page of Cups, Seven of Cups.

“Yes,” she affirmed. “You’re having nightmares about this young man because your fates and souls are intertwined, but the path ahead is unclear. There are many choices, many possibilities. Some real, some illusion. You’re struggling to see the truth through the confusion.”

“Can you tell me more about him?” she pressed.

King of Wands, Seven of Wands, Nine of Wands reversed.

“He is a fiery male,” the crone said. “Meant to be a ruler, but it seems he has been treated as an underdog so much that he tries to avoid conflict and is exhausted from doing so.”

Elain clicked her tongue in disbelief. This man sounded like the farthest thing from what she wanted in a lifelong partner. She preferred men who were decisive, calm, and steady—like Graysen, who seemed the very picture of what she was looking for. But fiery? Avoids conflict? That didn’t sit right with her. None of it aligned with the traits she valued.

The crone pulled three more cards: Strength, Three of Swords, Two of Swords reversed.

“Be careful not to be so stubborn,” she tapped on the Strength card with a long, bony finger. “Your heart will hurt, and it will make you feel closed off. If you're not careful, you’ll do something that you’ll come to regret.”

Elain said nothing as the crone pulled three more: Three of Cups reversed, Eight of Swords reversed, Ten of Swords reversed.

“You will get the wandering eye. It’s due to no fault of your own, but your actions will be your undoing.”

Eight of Cups, Wheel of Fortune, Nine of Cups.

“Things will change for the better,” the crone reassured her. “Only when you decide to leave for good will your wish come true.”

“And what might that be?” Elain asked, chewing her lip.

Two of Cups, Hierophant, Ten of Cups.

“An equal love in marriage to bring you the home you longed for,” the crone concluded.

Elain waited for the crone to sell her something to assure her of this future, but she merely nodded her head, her eyes losing their sharpness as if the reading had drained her. Elain still didn’t believe a word of it but nonetheless offered two more gold marks for a tip before leaving to join her sister and fiance at the florist, arriving right on time as they argued over Baby’s Breath.

The reading stayed with her until Graysen noticed her being distracted. She winced and said the wedding planning was stressful, which then he agreed. She laid with Graysen that night. A futile action as though to cement that if she gave him everything, she would always his.

She had forgotten about the reading when Feyre came back, now changed into a fae, seeking to use their home to broker an agreement with the Queens.

Feyre told her story, but her arched ears were more of interest to Elain, until the name Lucien sparked something deep in the recesses of Elain's mind. She didn’t know why this name was so important to her, why she gravitated towards it as though it were a string being pulled towards her. She listened to Nesta and Feyre argue back and forth, her engagement ring mocking her to tempt fate, until she finally said, “If … if we do not help Feyre, there won’t be a wedding. Even Lord Nolan’s battlements and all his men couldn’t save me from … from them.”

Mere days after being told the Queens refused to help, a cowled priestess stumbled in, pale as death, her wide eyes darting frantically. “Feyre,” she gasped, trembling. “Captured. Tortured.” Her voice faltered as Elain and Nesta rushed to steady her, but the terror clung to her words like a curse. Before either sister could react, the priestess added, her voice breaking, “Come with me quick.”

“No,” said Nesta.

Elain whimpered as rough hands shoved a gag into her mouth, her tears streaming silently as she was yanked into the shadows. Her captors paid no attention to her shaking or the weak struggles of her body, her kicks and blows finding only empty air.

Her quiet sobs soaked her gag as they dragged her toward the Cauldron. Her feet scraped against the cold stone floor, her fingers clawing desperately for something—anything—to hold on to. But there was nothing. Somewhere through the chaos, a male voice shouted a command to stop. That it was enough. But it didn’t matter. The icy black water loomed before her, and then—then it swallowed her whole.

Cold. All-consuming cold ripped through her body, and her soul felt as though it was being shredded, torn apart like delicate lace. Elain thrashed, but the water had her, seeping into her lungs, her bones, her very thoughts. This is death, she realized in a strange, detached way. Her body was breaking, dissolving, as if she was being unmade, piece by piece.

So this is what dying feels like.

She hit the ground hard facedown, sucking in air as water streamed from her, a gasp of air filling her chest with burning life. Her soaked nightgown clinging to her skin as she rose from the ground onto her elbows. Yet all she could focus on was her shame, as ridiculous and misplaced as it was, as she shivered on the wet stones, her legs and breasts on display.

Her mind held one absurd thought: I am dead, and all I care about is how indecent I must look.

He will come like a knight in shining armor that reminds you of the sun.

A light flared. Too bright. It pierced through her dazed vision, and she squinted. Worn Boots thudded toward her and before she could react, a warm jacket was draped over her trembling shoulders. Elain flinched, instinct curling her further into herself, expecting more violence, more violation. But the jacket … the jacket smelled of chestnuts and something warm—something almost like hope.

He is a fiery male.

Strong arms lifted her as Nesta poured out of the cauldron. Firm, but gentle. She was weightless in them, and for a moment, she let herself surrender to the feeling, the water still streaming from her like the last remnants of a terrible nightmare. He was so warm, so comforting, even in the midst of the chaos. He grounded her. She believed she was safe until her sister tore her away from her knight. She needed to know his name, staring as she waited.

He never offered it.

She could feel instincts running through her: Mine. I am yours. You are mine…

“…mate,” his whisper broke through the chanting.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

All she could do at that moment was to stare at him until another flash of blinding white light came, reminding her of him, even if it came from Feyre. Elain clutched the jacket, inhaling its scent, wishing he were holding her instead until a blonde fae slammed her mate away, and she was gone.

As soon as Elain materialized into the large house perched atop the mountain, she clutched to the jacket draped on her shoulders. The air was thick with silence, but she broke it with a scream, the sound ricocheting through the red halls.

“Take me home!” she cried again and again, each plea more ragged than the last, until her words became nothing more than a hoarse whisper. Exhaustion claimed her, her body collapsing into a heavy slumber, as though the weight of her cries had stolen every ounce of strength she had left.

The iron ring on her finger felt heavier, a cold reminder of a debt she owed. Beneath her rib, the golden string—delicate and shimmering—tugged gently, a promise, a tether she couldn’t name but always felt. She drifted somewhere between the worlds of waking and dreaming.

Faces blurred and shifted—her mate, her betrothed—figures flickering like shadows at the edge of her consciousness. She was pulled between what she was owed and what she was promised.

Again, she opened the windows, trying to let more sunlight in. But no matter how much light flooded the room, it couldn’t pierce the murkiness clouding her mind. She glimpsed a male figure bathed in sunlight, and then a woman—transformed into a fiery bird—screeching in anger. Loud. Everything was loud. The earth groaned beneath her, shifting and unstable.

The light she let in did nothing to clear her visions. The shadows remained.

Finally, she heard Feyre’s voice.

“I want to go home,” Elain murmured, her voice softer now, as though she were speaking to herself. Then, in the stillness, she heard it—a heartbeat. Deep, rhythmic, intimate. It thudded inside her chest, yet it was not her own. She knew without knowing that this heartbeat was home.

The golden string shimmered before her eyes, pulsing like a beacon. She rose from her bed, drawn by its soft glow, her feet moving before her mind could catch up. It led her through the quiet corridors, past the cold stone walls, past Nesta’s fussing voice, until she found herself in front of a window. She sat. She waited. The heartbeat grew louder, more insistent. Was he speaking to her? Was this real? She couldn't tell if she was still dreaming, lost in that liminal space between sleep and waking. She didn’t respond, and didn't dare to break the spell.

The sunlight hit his eye—golden, strange, glowing.

He will come like a knight in shining armor that reminds you of the sun.

She turned slowly.

His presence filled the room, familiar and yet foreign. His gaze held hers, unwavering, as though he had been waiting for her to see him fully.

He didn’t have dark hair. He didn’t exude the quiet, mysterious confidence she thought she’d been searching for.

But he was him—the most beautiful man, no, the most beautiful male she had ever seen.

And in that moment, she knew. Knew it as surely as if it were a memory she had long forgotten, buried deep beneath years of doubt and hesitation. She was his, as he was hers.

“Who are you?”

“I am Lucien,” he said, his voice steady. “Seventh son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court.”

The name crashed into her like a wave, sweeping away the fog that had clouded her mind. She blinked, the murkiness around her vision dissolving as everything clicked into place. His name, the golden string, the heartbeat—it all made sense now. It was as though the sunlight that she would flood her bedroom for days had finally broken through into her very being, illuminating the truth buried deep within her soul.

“Lucien,” she whispered, tasting the name on her tongue. “From my sister’s stories. Her friend.”

If she had remembered the rest of the crone’s reading, it might have saved her—saved her from the ache that had lived inside her chest for so long, from the feeling of betrayal that gnawed at the edges of her heart, from the waiting, the endless waiting, for happiness she thought would never come.

But then again, Elain had never been one to believe in premonitions. She had never tempted fate—until the one time she did. And that had led her here, to him, to her mate.

The Mother, in her twisted sense of humor, had given her the same gift.

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