#little girl who's not nameless | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sinner-as-saint · 11 months ago

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run for your life

Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: He was away from the city for a while, chasing after some bastards who betrayed him. But the traitors were no longer breathing now and Bucky Barnes was finally able to come home to the city he ruled. Mostly, he was excited to come back and see his girl again. However when he got to the strip club where you worked as a waitress, he didn’t find you there. They told him you didn’t work there anymore. No one knew where you went, or why you left. Nobody even knew your real name. Now it was up to him to search the whole wide world to find a nameless girl – one he was obsessively, mindlessly in love with.

Themes: slight stalker!bucky, possessive!bucky, mild degrading kink, smut, FLUFF, opposite aesthetics, mild daddy kink (nicknames only), cosy little town vibes

a/n: some fluffy mob!bucky to end the year <3 Thank you so much for always supporting my silly little fics. Merry Christmas my darlings, and happy New Year!! See you soon ;)

He didn't know where exactly he would end up locating you, but finding you in a cosy, small, coastal town in the south of France was not on his list.

You being the owner of a gourmet bakery was not on his list either. Bucky was confused, surprised, but mostly confused. How did this happen? At first, when Sam came to deliver him the news of your location that morning, Bucky didn’t believe him. Had Sam not been Bucky’s oldest, most loyal friend Bucky would’ve never believed him at all.

“I’m gonna need you to stop being a dumbass and go find this girl!” Sam, ever the voice of reason yelled at Bucky who had been drowning in his sorrows. “It’s been months, and I can’t keep covering for your ass. I have my own shit to do, my own men to command.” He used that cool, authoritative voice of his. “Pull yourself together, Buck. Go find her.”

Sam was right. Of course he was. He always was. And it had really been months since that damned night…

—

Bucky couldn’t wait to get out of his plane the moment it landed. It was late at night, but the perfect time to go to the club. He had missed it. Well, not the whole club really. Bucky had missed you.

He had a… special connection with you. His girl. His only girl. His favourite girl.

This time, he thought, he would do whatever he can to solidify whatever was happening between the two of you. Maybe he’d even get you to go on a real date with him. Maybe that would lead to something more. He was smiling to himself just thinking about it.

He often thought back to the night you met. He was at the club after a long day of being the dark ruler he was. All he wanted was a drink and a pretty woman on his lap. That’s when he found you.

Right as he walked in, you caught his eye. Walking around serving drinks, wearing a little see-through red dress that brought every man you walked past to his knees.

Once he got to his booth, Bucky called you over. You walked towards him sheepishly.

“I’ve never seen you around here before, beautiful.” He said, patting his thigh. He noticed the way you hesitated. Must be new, he thought.

You carefully perched on his lap, holding your empty metal tray to your chest. Bucky smirked as he looked at it, like you were putting a makeshift barrier between the two of you. When you remained quiet and squirmy, Bucky spoke up again.

“Come on, babygirl. Talk to me, it’s okay.” He whispered at his nuzzled your neck. “I don’t bite. Unless you ask nicely, then I might.”

His warm breath against your skin tickled. You chuckled as you pulled away to look at him. “Um, I’m just a waitress. I’m not supposed to…” You trailed off. Both of you were aware of the no-contact ‘rule’. But there was a natural, unexplainable spark there that neither of you could ignore.

“Hmm,” His chest rumbled. “How about we go somewhere private?” He whispered into your ear and noticed the way you shivered.

You hung your head, clutching your metal tray. “Waitresses aren’t supposed to go into the VIP rooms, sir.” You said quietly, just loud enough for him to hear you above the sensual music.

Bucky smirked. Then leaned in and whispered, “I suppose I can bend the rules a little given I co-own the club.”

You froze and went to stand up immediately, already apologising but he wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you on his lap.

“It’s okay, babygirl. You’re not in trouble, I promise.”

The two of you ended up in one of the VIP rooms. Nothing happened, you just kissed and talked and kissed some more. Bucky promised to come back. And he did. For months. Again and again and each time he did, you were drawn to him like he was gravity from the very moment he walked into the room.

And that night he landed after being away for weeks, he expected you to run right into his arms the moment he’d enter the club like you always did. He even got you a nice little gift to make up for the time that he’d been away. It was a rare, red diamond choker. He could already imagine how it would look around your neck. Like a brand. His.

But then he got to the club. And he noticed everyone was avoiding his eyes almost anxiously. And his girl was nowhere to be seen. He searched for you in the main area for a while, then even searched the VIP rooms, vowing to commit horrible crimes if he ever found you in there with another man.

But no.

He called Sam, who co-owned the club, and Sam had no idea who he was talking about. Bucky asked the staff members, and one bartender finally told him that you’d resigned a few weeks ago. And no one knew where you went. He asked for your full name, but no one knew that either.

Not even Sam. “I didn’t even know we had a new waitress, Buck. I have more important shit to worry about.” He’d said, adding to the burning sensation in Bucky’s chest.

“She left me.”

Sam had no idea what his best friend was babbling about. And during the many months that followed, Bucky was a mess. A mess like Sam had never seen before. Frantically scanning country after country, searching for a girl with no name. He was in love, and he wasn’t giving up. He would find his girl come what may.

—

But now Bucky knew where you were.

And he was more confused than ever. He had even more questions.

Bucky spent a whole week in that little town. Watching you, learning your routine, observing and questioning. He disguised himself as a local and always kept his distance even though his hands itched to touch you.

At first he was bothered by how you were fine with living the same day everyday. Your routine seemed boring at first, but the more he watched, the more he realised it was sort of therapeutic. The normality of it all.

He rented an apartment on the other side of the street from your bakery, and he spent hours watching you.

You lived right above the bakery. A quaint apartment, with flower pots all around the french windows. Sometimes when you forgot to turn the lights off at night, Bucky spent the whole night spying on you, counting your breaths as you slept on your couch in front of the TV.

You’d wake up at the crack of dawn, then you’d feed your dogs. He noticed you had two. Lazy, both of them. Then you’d get downstairs and within half an hour, the cool air that entered his apartment carried the smell of the sea and baked goods.

All he wanted was to cross the cobblestone street and drag you to his bed, demand answers while fucking some sense into you. But the more he watched you, the more his anger diminished. Temporarily.

The genuine smile on your face as you served your loyal customers all day, especially the ones who always came early in the morning on their way to work. The occasional sound of your voice or your laughter that slipped past whenever someone didn’t close the door right. The sound of children squealing and laughing whenever you gave away leftover baked goods or donuts in the evenings. How you knew almost everyone by name. How sometimes you invited neighbours over for wine nights. How you went on little walks in late, cool evenings, forcing your lazy pets to walk but then ending up having to carry them on the way back. They were spoiled, he realised. He hated to admit that he was jealous of the damned dogs who got so much of your attention while he starved for it.

He wasn’t angry by the end of that first week of spying, he was just hurting. How dare you live a whole new life without him? How dare you laugh and seem like you don’t miss him? He’d just spent months looking for you and here you were, just going about your day like you didn’t care? Like none of those nights you’d spent together mattered?

Meanwhile he was shaking just reminiscing the way your touch felt across his skin. He remembered the first time the two of you crossed that line in one of the VIP rooms…

You were wearing that red dress again. Fucking tease, he hissed each time you moved or squirmed on his lap.

“Baby, please,” He groaned. “Just�� let me touch you. Daddy will make you feel good, so good babygirl, I promise.” He pleaded, hands caressing your soft, warm thighs.

You shook your head, popping another one of those chocolates he brought you into your mouth and sucking your fingers after. Torturing him.

“We can’t,” You insisted, with nothing but mischief in your eyes as you looked at him. “You made these rules yourself, remember?” You chuckled when he groaned again when you straddled him properly.

“I don’t give a shit about rules.” He hissed, nuzzling your neck. Slowly, he kissed up and down your neck. “I just wanna taste you. That’s it. Just a taste.”

That’s how he found himself on his knees, face in between your thighs. His skilled tongue making you whine and whimper as you tugged on his hair. Bucky hummed in appreciation the more he tasted you.

“Come on daddy’s face, baby…”

That’s it.

Bucky decided he would go see you the next morning. He would drag you back home if he had to, but he wouldn’t spend another day without you. Who did you think you were? No one just tosses him aside like this. He’d remind you who he was and then you’d both go home right away.

—

Bucky woke up to a thunderstorm. Weather around here was unpredictable. He got out of bed and immediately looked outside to find your bakery empty. No customers in sight because of the heavy rain, lightning and thunder. The golden light was on though.

He decided it was time to go have a talk with you. He promised not to lose his temper. He would go in there calmly, talk it out with you. Ask you what the fuck you are doing here, and then he’d take you home.

But that ended up not happening.

Bucky crossed the slippery cobblestone street, walked into your comforting, sweet smelling bakery and froze. He froze right there at the entrance.

As did you. Standing there behind the wooden counter, oven mittens in your hand and apron in another, you stared at Bucky with nothing but pure shock and surprise on your face. A thousand thoughts, mainly questions, crossed your mind.

What is he doing here? How did he find you? Why is he dressed casually like a local, wearing soft colours instead of his usual suits? How long has he been here? What is he doing here?

You let out a little gasp. “Bucky?”

Wrong move, apparently. Because his demeanour changed in a nanosecond. His calm and collected-ness was forgotten instantly. Jaws clenched, with a murderous look in his eyes, he walked closer, more like charged at you, and around the counter before you could even get a word out.

He had you pinned to the nearest wall before you could process it all. Knocking down a framed picture in the process. Towering above you, he looked like he was beyond pissed.

“Bucky, I—,”

“Shut up.” He hissed, voice cold with bitterness and anger. He watched how you shivered when he pinned your wrists to the wall on either side of your head. “Shut the fuck up.”

He leaned closer, chest pressing against yours leaving no space in between. He closed his eyes and sighed for a moment, trying his hardest to see reason but he was angry. So angry he couldn’t think.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He spoke with such a low voice that you trembled against him, causing him to tighten his grip around your wrists, surely bruising them. You didn’t care.

You winced, “I can explain.” Fuck, you’d missed him too. It had been months since you last saw him. He was just as handsome as you remembered. His hair was a little longer now, his beard a little thicker. But he made your heart race just the same. “Please Bucky,” You whispered, “let me explain everything to you.”

“No.” He growled before pressing his mouth to yours, angrily. Like he wanted his kiss to hurt. And it did.

His rough facial hair scratched your skin, his teeth nibbled on and bit your lips. His hands damn near crushed your wrists in his strong grip. And he didn’t give you even the briefest second to breathe. He kissed you just like how he imagined he would do once he found you. Ravenously. Pouring everything he felt into it. Desperation, anger, hurt, obsession. He couldn’t get enough.

“Bucky…” You gasped against his lips when he finally pulled away. Breathing fast, you tried to get a look at him but he just seemed even more angry.

“Turn around,” He mumbled, forcing you to turn around anyway. Fuck, the sight of you in that long, flowy, sundress was doing things to him. He was never this bothered when you used to parade around in your little see-through dresses, but somehow the sight of you in this pink, floral dress was making him act like a caveman.

His movements were rash and angry. He almost tore your dress off of you while he shoved his rough hand in between your legs and touched you where you desperately wanted him to. You whined and trembled against the cool wall when he slid a finger in, fucking you with it while he hissed into your ear.

“I should punish you for what you did to me,” His deep voice made his chest rumble against your back. “I should tie you up and fuck you however I want.”

Your dress was partially off, bunched and only hanging on around your waist. Being so dishevelled made this even dirtier. You were moaning by now, hoping the heavy rain would blur your actions from anyone who walked by the shop. Or god forbid, walk in.

“How dare you think you can just leave me?” He demanded, sliding another finger inside you and making your body come alive.

You were embarrassingly wet at this point, and the sounds your body made as he finger-fucked you were lewd. But you couldn’t get enough.

More, more, more. You mentally chanted.

Bucky wasn’t having the silent treatment, so he smacked your thigh to get your attention. You yelped. Your skin stung as he smacked it again, on the same spot. Harder this time. You cried out even louder as he kept taunting you. “Answer me, you fucking brat!” His lips brushed against the back of your neck as he spoke. “Why did you leave me?”

You cried as he kept fucking you with his fingers you even as you came. His fingers sliding in and out with ease now. The sounds you made were wanton. “You… you left first.” You tried to argue. But failed miserably.

He chuckled in that dark and dangerous way of his. “I left for work.” He said, “And I promised you I’d be back.” He reached deeper inside you, curling his fingers just enough to make you mutter incoherent things. “Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“Please, please, please…” You begged. “Please I need to come, Bucky please.”

“Oh?” He chuckled again, slowing down his movements purposely. “No one touched you, huh?” He playfully bit on your exposed shoulder. “You’re so fucking wet it’s dripping down my hand, babygirl.” He boasted. “Is it because no one has touched you these past few months? Hmm?”

“Yes…” You had tears streaming down your face, and you nodded breathlessly. “Please…”

But instead of making you come all over his fingers, Bucky pulled away for a brief moment. You couldn’t see him, but you could hear him undoing his trousers. And moments later, he was rubbing the tip of his cock against your wet folds. You shivered in pleasure.

“I’m gonna teach you what happens to people who think they can run from me, babygirl.” He growled as he pushed his cock into you, making you cry out loud as he stretched you out.

After months of not having him, right now he felt huge inside you. Just like that, memories of nights spent with him came flooding back in. You moaned as his fingers found your clit again, rubbing it in sync with his thrusts.

His hand gripped you by the hips, holding you against him as he sped up into you, fucking you like he hated you. Like it was punishment. He dipped his head into the crook of your neck and licked, and bit on your skin as he fucked into you relentlessly, earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls.

“Did you think I’d never find you?” He asked, fucking into you. “I bet you thought you’d gotten rid of me, hmm?”

You’d missed him too. He could tell by the way you were starting to clench around him already. Bucky nibbled at the skin under your ear and you lost all control you had left. Your thoughts became cloudy and all you could focus on was how good he felt inside you.

“See, it didn’t have to be like this, baby…” he mumbled angrily against your skin while he fucked you like an animal, “I could be nice and gentle with your body, but you just had to be a fucking brat and leave me with no warning.” He spat, growling in your ear as he pounded into you, your chest slamming into the wall with each thrust. It hurt in the best way.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” He moaned against your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back. Your legs started to shake as he quickened his pace, pounding into you mercilessly.

The pleasure, the pain, the heat of him… was too much and you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Bucky–,” You choked on your words as you came undone, walls clenching around him, and a loud moan erupting from your mouth as he made you come hard. It was almost blinding.

His thrusts became irregular as he came right after you did, cock throbbing against your pulsating walls, moaning out loud when he felt your walls pulsating violently around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He came while biting down hard on your shoulder. So hard that even you cried out, still coming down from your high as you felt him spill deep inside you.

That bite on your shoulder hurt. And like a chain reaction, everything began to hurt. Having him here hurt. Memories of being with him in the city, in the dark rooms of that club hurt. Realising how fast your life changed hurt.

You didn’t realise you were sobbing quietly until you heard Bucky apologising profusely. Suddenly no longer angry. No longer feeling betrayed.

“Fuck, baby. I’m so sorry.” He kissed that sore spot softly, his bite mark on your shoulder repeatedly as he wrapped his arms around you, securing you in the comfort of his embrace. “I don’t know what came over me, babygirl. I’m so sorry, please look at me. Hey, hey,” He pulled away and turned you so you faced him, still with tears in your eyes. “Babygirl, I’m so sorry.” He whispered, wiping your tears away, then kissing your face repeatedly.

You remained like that for a few minutes. Arms wrapped around one another, standing there against that wall while it rained like hell outside. Bucky didn’t stop apologising.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been an animal like this with you, I—,”

You cut him off finally, “Shh, it’s okay.” You pulled away from his warm chest to look up at him. “I needed this.” You said, sniffling as you gently cupped his rough cheek, caressing his face with your thumb. “I needed you like this.”

He just hugged you close again, kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry.” He apologised one final time. “I’ll listen, I promise. I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”

You smiled faintly at him. “Then I should lock up down here and we can go upstairs. I don’t want to scare my neighbours by risking them finding us like this.” You looked down at your partially torn dress and Bucky’s unbuttoned trousers.

Much to your surprise, Bucky said, “You go ahead, I’ll close and lock up.”

You frowned at him even as you desperately tried to get the top of your sundress to cover your chest. “You wouldn’t know how to…” You trailed off as realisation set in. He was a calculated, smart man. He didn’t just apparate on your doorstep with no planning. “You’ve been watching me.” You stated, raising an eyebrow at him.

Bucky gave you a rare, guilty look.

You sighed and shook your head. “I guess I chose this life by getting involved with you.” You gave him a faint smile. “Alright then, lock it. Leave the key in the little basket by the door.” You started walking towards the stairs, then turned around again and said, “Make sure the windows are properly locked too, because of the rain and stuff.”

“Yes ma’am,” Bucky nodded.

You smirked at him.

With that you took the stairs and Bucky watched you go with a fond smile on his face. No one ever ordered him around. He hated it. But coming from you, he quite liked it.

Bucky chuckled at himself because never in his life had he ever imagined he would one day be closing up a bakery in a small town, all for the woman he’s obsessively in love with. But he didn’t mind it one bit.

After following your instructions and double checking the windows, he made his way upstairs as well. Again, he didn’t know what he expected your place to look like – and all that spying only allowed him glimpses of your apartment – but he never expected your space to look so…

Pink. With occasional gold accents. Pale pink couch, the one you often fell asleep on while watching TV, and fluffy white pillows and rugs to go with. Paintings hanging on even paler pink walls. The kitchen he couldn’t quite see but he assumed it’d have to be all white. Pink dog beds, with fluffy balls of brown fur sleeping on them – wearing pink collars no less.

He couldn’t see your bedroom from the living room given the door was closed but given the pink, fluffy robe and socks you wore he could imagine just how pink it must be.

“It’s so girly.” He commented, as if surprised. Maybe he was a little. After all, he knew you as the seductive goddess he met almost every night at the club. He never realised that it was all just a show, that it was all just a persona at work. In a way, stepping into your space felt so intimate. He liked it.

You chuckled. “Coquette, please.” You corrected as you handed him a glass of red wine while he took a seat beside you. He did look a little out of place in your apartment, a dark and broody man like him. But then again, he was here and that’s all that mattered.

He turned to look at you and couldn’t resist holding your hand and pulling you onto his lap again. “Come here,” He said, “I’ve missed you.”

As you straddled his lap, your robe exposed some of your shoulder and Bucky saw the very noticeable bite mark he left on you. He grimaced when he saw it. He placed his wine glass to the side and traced the bite mark with his thumb carefully.

“I’m sorry, babygirl.” He whispered, leaning in to nuzzle your neck and kiss the bite mark. And breathe in your scent. Fuck, he’d missed it so much. “You smell a little different. Fruitier.”

You giggled when his hair tickled your skin. “I made blueberry compote earlier this morning. Perhaps that’s why.”

You could feel him smiling against your skin. Then he pulled away to look at you. His hands shamelessly slid under your robe, eager to touch your skin. Relishing it this time, not in a feral hurry like he was earlier. He seemed visibly calmer too.

“We used to spend hours like this at the club, remember?” He spoke, and immediately you were overwhelmed with nostalgia.

Hours, days, weeks, months. Some days back then you would wake up in the morning already excited to see Bucky in the evening. And it wasn’t because it was all sexual. So many nights all you two did was drink, laugh and talk about everything. He once told you that apart from Sam, you were his only real friend.

Bucky kissed you, breaking you out of your reverie surely thinking of the past as well. It was a slow, gentle kiss. It was consuming you. His hands caressed your thighs which were still a little sore from earlier. You winced in pain when he massaged the spot where he spanked you.

Bucky pulled away from the kiss, apologising again as he kissed down your chin. “I’m sorry, babygirl.”

You smiled at him after taking a sip of your wine. “Stop pretending as if we were always vanilla or that this is scandalous in any way shape or form.” You chuckled as you leaned in to whisper in his ear, “We both know this was nothing compared to how we used to be.”

Bucky smiled, a little sadly. “I missed you.” He repeated. “Tell me,” He said, “Tell me everything.”

You finished your wine. “What do you want to know?”

“Why did you start working at the club?” He caught the look of sadness that suddenly appeared on your face upon hearing the question.

“I… I had to drop out of uni because my grandparents fell sick.” You explained. “Mom and dad were travelling for work at the time, and I was the only one who could take care of grandma and grandpa. The treatments and all ended up costing a little more than what we had so I needed a job that paid well, I also needed one that would allow me to be flexible with my time so I could take care of my grandparents.”

Bucky nodded, “Hence the club.”

You nodded in confirmation.

“Your parents never intervened? So you could finish your education?” He questioned.

“No.” You said, almost emotionless. “When they found out what I was doing, where I was working to earn the extra money we needed… they kind of disowned me. And vowed to never talk to me again.” You chuckled, humourlessly.

“They don’t deserve you.” Bucky said quickly, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close. “You were so brave baby, I wish you would’ve told me all of this.”

You slid your fingers into his hair and massaged his scalp gently. “You were already taking care of me.” You said, “You mended my heart a little each night when I saw you.”

“I wish I could’ve done more.” He kissed along your collarbones, then froze again as if he remembered something. “I almost forgot,” He said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a sleek black box. “I got you something.” Then clarified, “Well, I got you this months ago. I would’ve given it to you had you not run away from me.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “I didn’t run from you, I–,”

He cut you off with a finger on your lips. “Tell me about that part in a minute,” He opened the slender black box to reveal the red diamond choker inside. “I had this made for you.” He watched your face intently.

“Bucky…” You hesitantly reached for it, running your fingers over the beauty of it. It was a simple design. Elegant, timeless. Way too expensive. “I can’t take this,” You began protesting, “It’s too much.”

Bucky made a face and said, “Oh shut up.” He was already clasping it around your neck before you could protest any further. “It’s a gift from daddy,” He whispered against the corner of your lips. “You deserve it, babygirl.”

When he pulled away to look at you, his heart almost broke again at the sight of the tears in your eyes.

“What is it?” He asked, wiping your tears away for the second time today. “Is it that ugly?”

You laughed through the tears. “No, it’s the prettiest thing I own.” You sniffled. “The only piece of real jewellery in fact.” You leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

“Remind me to get you a whole collection.” Bucky pulled you closer and kissed you deeply.

Then it turned into something more and by the time the afternoon rolled around, the two of you had lost count how many times you’d made love on your pink couch. Slow touches and cuddles, and soft kisses always resulted in the two of you fucking again.

—

In the late afternoon, while snacking on random things Bucky realised you still hadn’t explained how you ended up here.

“Grandma and grandpa’s bakery.” You explained, watching the rain pour outside. “They left it to me. They died within weeks of each other,” You said with a melancholic smile on your face, “I always knew that would happen. They loved each other too much to live without one another for too long.”

You turned to look at Bucky who pulled you onto his lap again and held you as tightly as possible. You weren’t crying this time, but being held felt nice.

You continued, “I had funerals to plan, I had to pack up my life and move all the way here, I had to take on the responsibility of the bakery and renovate this apartment. And you were already gone at the time so…” You sighed. “I didn’t know if I should leave a note or not. I didn’t know if you were actually coming back or–,”

“I would never abandon you. I thought you knew that.” Bucky said, a little annoyed at that. “I made you a promise, did you not–,”

You couldn’t help but argue, “Yeah well, I didn’t know if what we had was real enough for you to come back to.”

Bucky frowned. “Baby…”

You gave him a small smile, and pressed your forehead against his, rubbing your noses together. “I know now. It is.”

When you finally pulled away from his addicting embrace you said, “I’m gonna get started on dinner. You can shower in there,” You pointed at your bedroom door as you got up from the couch. Bucky tried to grab you again but you pulled away laughing. “The weather is clearing up, we can have dinner outside on the patio.”

You threw him a wink and made your way into the kitchen.

Bucky finally got up and walked into your bedroom. Just as he imagined, the place was all white, gold, and pink. He actually laughed when he walked into the bathroom and found it pale pink as well. He’d grown to love it too by now.

–

You were busy at the stove, making your best seafood pasta, when you felt strong arms wrapping around you from behind.

“How’d you like my bedroom?” You asked, smirking already as you pictured him in your very girly space.

“It’s very pink. The bed looks comfy,” He whispered into your ear, “I’m gonna fuck you in it later.”

You chuckled and passed him another glass of wine. As you turned to face him again, you couldn’t help but laugh out loud. There he was, one of the scariest men you knew, standing in your grandma-core kitchen, wearing a fluffy white robe with pink clouds on it.

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Oh don’t comment on it. I can already hear Sam laughing his ass off and he’s not even here.”

You laughed even harder before you kissed his cheek. “It suits you.” You said. Then you handed him a couple of plates and pointed at the patio which could be seen from the kitchen window, “Can you set the table?”

He finished his wine and then mumbled on his way out like a grumpy old man, “First close the bakery, now set the table,” He shouted from outside, “You know, if this whole thing was your elaborate plan to hire me as your domestic helper, you could’ve just asked, babygirl.”

You laughed at him from inside the kitchen. You shook your head as you watched him. Wearing your fluffy robe, setting the small table on your patio. The view of the ocean from that patio was to die for, and the setting sun was just sublime. The golden lights you’d hung above the cute little dining area added to the cosy atmosphere. Now with the weather a lot nicer than it was hours ago, you could hear the small town coming alive again. Voice and laughter, children cycling down the cobblestone.

And Bucky. Bucky was here too. Winking at you from the patio. And you thought your life had ended when your parents disowned you. You scoffed at the thought. Then you thanked whatever god was listening for bringing Bucky back to you.

—

During dinner, Bucky filled you in on what he was up to while you were gone. And you did the same. One bottle of wine turned into two, then you and Bucky laughed at random things while you did the dishes.

Then you found yourselves in your bed. And like he promised, Bucky made love to you there as well.

His muscular body hovered above yours. He looked down at you with nothing but love and desire in his eyes as you undid the ridiculous robe to let his cock out. He was hard already.

“Think I like you a lot in this robe.” You teased.

Bucky laughed before leaning in for a kiss again. He nibbled along your skin, from your mouth to your neck as he parted your legs and slid into you.

You gasped as your walls welcomed him perfectly. He was nice and snug inside you, stretching you out in a way that had you whining and whimpering under him in no time.

Bucky laced your fingers together and pinned both your hands above your head on your pink covers as he sped up into you. Your eyes rolled back once he started moving in and out of you. Taking his sweet time, loving the way his warm skin rubbed against yours.

He leaned in and kissed your lips again, groaning and panting against your lips as he fucked you slowly. “I love you.” He breathed against your mouth. “So fucking much.” He kissed along your skin and moaned into your ear as he sped up. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”

“Oh Buck,” You smiled up at him, “I love you.”

“You’re mine.” He whispered, leaning down to kiss you as he made you come again.

“And you’re mine.”

—

You woke up some time in the middle of the night, thirsty after all that wine from earlier. But the moment you sat up to get out of bed, Bucky woke up too. Asking in his groggy voice, which you had never heard before but concluded that it was kind of hot, “Where are you going? What is it?”

You smiled and kissed his forehead while getting out of bed, “Just thirsty. I’ll be right back.”

Bucky got up after you, getting out of bed as well. “I’m coming too.” He said, “I worry this girly room might engulf me if you leave me here alone.” He joked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he followed you out and into the kitchen.

Truth is, he didn’t want to be apart from you for even a second.

You handed him a glass of cold water while you put some water to boil to make tea. Some green tea should put the two of you right back to sleep, you thought.

So there you were in your cosy kitchen, wrapped in a soft blanket. Bucky leaned against the counter watching you. He was shirtless, just in some white, cotton pyjama pants that you lent him. They didn’t fit him at all but something about him in your clothes made him seem adorable.

You were both quiet. But you could feel Bucky thinking. He looked like he was trying to find the right way to ask you something. You didn’t know what. But he had that little frown on his forehead. You wanted to kiss it away.

“What is it?” You asked.

Bucky avoided your eyes, choosing to stare at the floor instead as he asked, “Do you think… I mean, would you ever come back home?”

Ah. The few moments of silence which followed were heavy. You didn’t like how that question put some kind of metaphorical distance between the two of you.

So you took a few steps and leaned into him. You placed your hands on his muscular, toned chest and said, “This is home, for me.” You gave him the truth. “That city was never home now that I think about it.” You smiled faintly, “The only good part was you.”

Bucky nodded. “So,” He began, then stopped to clear his throat and spoke again, “You won’t ever leave this place?”

You slid your hands up across his skin, feeling the warm, strong muscles underneath your palm. You traced his collar bones, then his neck and finally cupped his face in your hands. He wrapped his arms loosely around your middle.

“I love it here, Bucky.” You stated. “It’s quiet, and peaceful. It looks boring at first but it’s what I’ve always wanted.” You said. “Plus my grandparents left me this, it’s all I have of them.” You paused for a while, hating that look of hurt in his ocean blue eyes. “I won’t leave. This is my home now.”

Bucky was quiet. Even his breathing was slow.

You let go of him, took a step back and said, “Maybe you should head back.” It felt like the words sliced you from the inside. It hurt to even utter them. “You have a life there.” You gave him a sad smile. Followed by a faint chuckle. “Unless you want to take up fishing then I’m afraid there’s nothing for you here.”

He scoffed. “There’s you.” He said as if that was more than enough.

“Bucky.” You warned.

He shook his head, then reached for his phone which he’d forgotten in the kitchen earlier tonight. “Sam will probably fly out here to beat me up when I tell him.” He spoke, none of what he said made sense to you though.

“What are you–,”

“And he’ll have to work twice as much. But he’ll do great, I know. He’s Sam after all, strongest man I know.” Bucky carried on, ignoring your questions as he typed away on his phone. “I’ll do as much as I can from here, maybe fly back to the city once or twice a year to show my face.”

“Bucky,” You warned again, “What are you talking—,”

Bucky continued, cutting you off each time you tried to get a word in. “I’ll have to call my people, actually I have a lot of phone calls to make if–,”

You cut him off this time, stepping closer to him again and grabbing him by his broad shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

Bucky gave you a lovesick smile. “Well if you’re not going back to the city, neither am I.” He answered. You froze. He continued. “I’ll have to buy us a bigger home somewhere around here. We’ll keep the apartment and bakery of course, but maybe we could use some staff to help with maintenance and to keep the bakery running.”

He made a mental, makeshift plan while you had silent tears streaming down your face.

He continued, “We’ll get you back in uni, whichever one you want and whichever offers distance learning because there’s no way I’m letting you live on some campus away from me.” He paused, then said, “I’ll have to actually take up fishing. Maybe I’ll buy a few boats, you know I always wanted to be a yacht broker.” He sounded almost… hopeful. “Retirement sounds nice.”

You sniffled. “Buck…”

Bucky kept talking while he gently caressed your back. “I’ll have to learn French,” He groaned, “At this grown age.” He added. “I’ll have to know what's a chocolate croissant and what’s a pain au chocolat if I want to occasionally help out with the bakery. I can’t be uncultured while my wife is this connoisseur, you know? The locals will laugh at me.”

“Wife?” You questioned through tears and a faint, barely there smile.

He rolled his eyes. “Baby, I’m wearing your clothes, sleeping in your girly room, eating off of your floral plates.” He explained, “If you don’t marry me, I will lose my reputation.” He joked.

You laughed, and sobbed as you threw your arms around him, hugging him as tightly as you could.

“You don’t have to do this.” You spoke through tears. Your heart felt so full, you didn’t know how to handle a man like Bucky changing the course of his life for you. All for you.

Bucky hugged you back, kissing the top of your head. “I want to.” He said, “I have to. Otherwise you’ll run away again.” He teased.

You laughed quietly. “I won’t.” You said firmly.

“Good,” He sighed, squeezing you tightly in his arms before letting go. “Now I have to tell Sam.” He looked genuinely worried.

You giggled, then leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Tell him in the morning.” You whispered, your hands already trailing down to the waistband of the pyjama pants.

Bucky chuckled before leaning in to kiss you, deeply. “Okay baby,” He whispered, forgetting everything else as he got lost in you all over again.

He made love to you right there in the kitchen, sliding in between your legs as you sat on the edge of the counter. Slow and gentle. Kissing you softly, making a mess of you as he made you come over and over and over again. Whispering against your heated skin, your wet, open mouth, “You’re mine…”

“All yours,” You answered, holding him tightly. Your nails scratching down his back, your skin burning in all the best ways as his beard scratched it each time he kissed you.

This time, he made you a different promise.

“If you chose to run again, you better run for your life and pray I never find you, babygirl…” He whispered into your ear as he slid inside you again. His cock made it hard for you to focus on anything else but you tried your hardest to hear him out. “Because I won’t be this kind if I ever have to hunt for you again.”

You laughed, but ended up moaning as he bit down on your other shoulder this time. Marking you as his again.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader

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yuujispinkhair · 9 months ago

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Bad Boy - Good Toy

Sukuna is used to girls throwing themselves at him, begging him to dominate them. He never met any resistance. He never met any challenge. Until he meets you, and suddenly, the bad boy becomes nothing but a willing fucktoy.

There is now a Part 02

Pairing: Sub!Sukuna x Dom!Reader (female) Genre: smut, College AU Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, degradation, humiliation, edging, exhibitionism, voyeurism, smoking, mentions of drugs, sharing chewing gum, facesitting, squirting, abs-riding, overstimulation, Sukuna cums untouched, piss (Reader pees on Sukuna to humiliate him, and he likes it). Reader calls Sukuna slut, fucktoy and fuckdoll. Unhealthy relationship dynamics. Reader and Sukuna don't talk about limits or safe words. Sukuna is ok with everything Reader does to him, but please be aware that this isn't the way a sub/dom relationship is supposed to be in real life. I just wanted things to be a bit fucked up in this story ;) Divider @/benkeibear

Sukuna is bored. So fucking bored. Bored with college in general, bored of the parties that are always the same, bored of the drugs that don't give him the kick he craves anymore. Even sex is boring nowadays. He sighs as his gaze brushes over the girl kneeling between his spread legs. He didn't bother asking for her name. He thinks she might be in his history course. But it doesn't matter. Nothing matters.

He doesn't even bother to hide from view, letting her suck him off in the back of the dimly lit living room on some ratty couch, while a few meters away, people are dancing and drinking and singing along to songs that Sukuna hates. She is eager, bopping her mouth on his dick enthusiastically, humming around him, and hollowing her cheeks like a champ. But he feels nothing at all. He isn't even sure he can cum tonight. It's like he is numb to everything. The nameless girl moans around his dick, and Sukuna grabs his phone to send his brother a message.

Where are you, brat? I want to leave.

He doesn't get a reply and instead checks his group chats and e-mails while the girl between his legs slurps loudly on his tip. Sukuna huffs in annoyance and lets his bored gaze travel through the room. It lands on a girl in a red t-shirt who is looking in his direction. You are sipping your drink casually while you unashamedly watch him getting his dick sucked.

It makes him grin broadly. Finally, a little bit of entertainment. Maybe he will manage to cum just to give that little voyeur a good show. And afterward, he can take you to one of the bedrooms and fuck you. Or maybe do it right here on that couch, too.

He winks at you. A smile spreads over your face, but it's not the smile Sukuna usually sees on the faces of the girls he plans to fuck. It's the kind of smile he sees in the mirror. A smile that means trouble. His cock twitches, and he groans softly.

He doesn't break eye contact, and neither do you. Sukuna raises an eyebrow challengingly, smirking at you, daring you to come over while he gets his dick sucked. His stomach flips when you really start walking towards him.

Sukuna's pulse accelerates when you stop right next to him. You let your gaze travel from his face down to his cock, watching it bop in and out of that other girl's mouth. You chuckle. It's not a nice sound.

"Aww, do you have problems cumming, Sukuna? Is your dick not working?"

For a stunned second, Sukuna just blinks at you, mouth hanging open. The resident bad boy rendered speechless for the first time in his life. And then he throws his head back and laughs, and simultaneously, he feels his balls tighten.

"If you get on all fours, I will show you just how good my dick works, sweetheart."

You roll your eyes and cross your arms in front of your breasts, looking at him with a bored and unimpressed expression.

"What makes you think I would let you get anywhere near me with that dick of yours. I don't want dirty, good-for-nothing sluts like you."

"What did you just call me?"

But his response lacks the bite. Instead, he sounds breathless, and his hand tightens on the couch as his cock twitches in the other girl's mouth. Fuck, it feels so good all of a sudden.

You smile that dangerous smile again and lean closer, your flowery perfume filling Sukuna's nose, and you repeat your words to him, slowly, overly accentuated as if he is stupid,

"Dirty. Good-for-nothing. Slut."

A raw groan spills from Sukuna's throat, and his hips buck off the couch, making the girl between his legs choke on his cock, as he nuts so hard into her mouth that she's spluttering his cum everywhere.

He stares wide-eyed at your smug face as the gears in his mind shift at lightspeed. What the fuck just happened?

The girl between his legs climbs onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck, and tries to kiss him, but Sukuna turns his face to the side, looking at you instead,

"Who do you think you are to talk to me like that?"

"Why? Enjoyed it too much, and now you are scared of how your body betrayed you, little slut?"

You laugh and turn around, walking away while you lift a hand in a mocking little wave, and Sukuna stares after you with his mind whirling and his cock still throbbing.

He wakes up the next morning with a strange feeling in his gut. Something is different.

And after a moment, he realizes what it is when the memories from last night come back, and his eyes widen, and a whispered curse falls from his lips. The encounter with you replays in his mind just like it did countless times before he managed to fall asleep last night. Your cruel smile and the sadistic glint in your eyes. The way his body reacted to it.

He is so used to everyone cowering before him. So used to everyone submitting to him so willingly. All those countless girls throwing themselves at him, begging him to please let them suck his dick, obeying his every command, asking him if they can please call him daddy during fucking.

He never met any resistance. He never met any challenge. One look from him and the girls were practically on their backs with their legs spread like some animal in heat.

No one ever talked to him the way you did. Or looked at him that way. As if he is worthless trash in your eyes. Your words resonate in his brain. "You dirty, good-for-nothing slut."

Fuck! It turns him on. It makes him achingly hard even now. He turns onto his back and shoves a hand into his pants. He jerks off so furiously that his wrist hurts, making a huge mess all over himself when he cums to the thought of you calling him a useless brat.

Sukuna isn't the same man he was 24 hours ago.

He totally doesn't look for you on campus on Monday morning. It is totally a coincidence that he slides up to you when you pull out a package of strawberry bubble gum from the vending machine. It's definitely not like he followed you around like a puppy for a whole hour until he finally got his shit together and decided to approach you.

"Strawberry flavor, huh? Wouldn't have thought that a foul person like you would pick such a sweet flavor."

You eye him lazily, eyes never leaving his as you tear open the packaging and put one of the pastel pink bubble gums into your mouth before you grace him with a reply.

"Oh, shut up. An attitude like that doesn't fit a pretty boy like you. Learn to behave, and then we can talk again."

Sukuna feels his lips lift in his trademark smirk as that weird, exhilarating sensation fills his veins again. He is enjoying himself far too much. He braces himself against the vending machine, his large hands on both sides of your face, caging you in, towering over you, while he smirks down at you.

But you don't seem intimidated at all by his height and muscular figure and the tattoos on his face. Instead, you smile at him and cock your head to the side, eyeing him expectantly as if you are waiting for him to do something.

He leans down, bringing his face closer to yours.

"Can I have a gum too? Please? See, I can behave very well."

His voice has dropped to his usual flirty, seductive tone, which he always uses on girls. The tone that always drives them crazy and makes them drop their panties faster than they can say his name.

You flutter your lashes exaggeratedly at him, smiling a sickeningly fake angelic smile as you open your mouth and pull out your gum.

"Ok, you can have one since you asked so politely. Open up, slut."

He laughs when you push the used gum to his lips, but Sukuna isn't one to back down, so he grabs your small hand, wraps his tattooed hand around your wrist, and opens his mouth. He licks your fingers, lets his tongue-piercing glide over your fingertips, and sucks the used bubble gum into his mouth.

You gaze deeply into his eyes, looking amused.

"You didn't even say thank you, Sukuna. You are still such a useless and rude brat."

You turn on your heel and leave him standing there like some rejected loser, and he chews the gum that tastes like strawberry and your spit and feels his cock twitch against his sweatpants.

Sukuna sees you again on Saturday at another party. Two girls danced with him and asked him if he wanted to fuck them both upstairs in one of the bedrooms, but he turned them down, not even able to grasp why.

Until he walks into the kitchen and sees you. And suddenly, things fall into place.

Why bother with those random girls when the one he really wants is you? You are the only one who poses a challenge. The only one who makes his skin tingle with excitement. The only one who makes him feel like he is still alive and not some fucking ghost.

He leans against the fridge and watches you while he lights a cigarette. He smokes it in silence, just smirking at you and hoping you will come over and call him a slut again. Or any other degrading name you can think of. Sukuna isn't picky.

You walk over to him, a few drags into his cigarette, and stop in front of him, so close that he can smell your sweet perfume again. And you smile that smile that isn't sweet at all as you reach up and take the cigarette from Sukuna's lips. Your eyes never leave his as you bring his half-smoked cigarette to your mouth, wrapping your lips with the red lipstick around the filter right where Sukuna's lips were a moment ago, and the sight is so sexy to him that Sukuna has to bite his lip not to moan.

You take a deep drag, and your eyes close for a moment as the nicotine fills your senses before they open again to gaze up at Sukuna through your long lashes, grinning as you slowly blow the smoke right into Sukuna's face.

He laughs, pushing himself off the fridge, stepping closer to you, so close that his hips brush against you,

"You know what that means, right princess? Blowing smoke in someone's face?"

"Who doesn't know that?"

You roll your eyes and look at him as if he is stupid, and he can't help but place his large hands on your waist and drawl in his best bedroom voice,

"So, you admit you want to fuck me?"

You smirk back at him as you push his hands off your waist, sounding dismissive when you shrug and say,

"You have a pretty face and a good body. And I am horny right now. So why not? And you are probably a good fuck, with all that practice you had."

"What makes you so sure I want to fuck you?"

"Oh, don't be silly. You won't say no. A slut like you never does. Everyone knows you are easy."

Sukuna doesn't bother telling you that he just turned down two hot chicks half an hour ago. He lets you grab his hand and pull him along, and he follows you with a broad smirk on his tattooed face.

His cock is already pressing against his jeans when his crotch brushes over your ass when you pull him up the stairs. His mind is hazy, thoughts clouded over by lust, finally feeling that sweet, exciting buzzing again that he missed so much.

You pull him into one of the bedrooms, yank off his t-shirt, and push him onto the bed. Or you try to. You push against his broad chest, not able to move him an inch, but he plays along and lets himself fall onto the bed, looking up at you with heavy-lidded maroon eyes and his throbbing erection leaking pre-cum into his pants like some pathetic little virgin before his first fuck.

Sukuna licks his lips when he watches you reach under your skirt and take off your panties. That's the only thing you take off before you join him on the bed, straddling his thighs, making him smirk at you like the devil that he is,

"So eager to get my cock inside you that you can't even be bothered to get naked, princess?"

"Shut up, slut. Good boys don't talk unless I allow it."

Your little hands are on his belt, opening it, unbuttoning his jeans, and pulling down the zipper, making Sukuna's hips twitch when your hand rubs over his boxer-clad erection. He knows he is acting pathetic right now, cock so eager, already staining the fabric of his boxer briefs with a ridiculously huge amount of pre-cum. But fuck it, he is finally turned on again, finally excited to fuck again after all those months of feeling bored.

He pushes his hard cock against your hand, but you pull away again, smiling that devilish smile at him as you crawl on top of him.

Sukuna laughs breathlessly when you hover above his face, letting him know what you want from him. His large hands reach out to run slowly up the back of your thighs before they cup your ass cheeks, and he pulls you down onto his face.

He groans when your hot wet pussy settles on his tattooed face. Fuck, he always heard his brother go on and on about how hot he finds it when a girl sits on his face with a skirt and no panties. Sukuna had never found it so fascinating until now. Until it is you, and you tell him in that emotionless voice,

"Get to work, my little slut. If you make me squirt, you will get a reward."

He turns his face and moans against your inner thigh, leaving a kiss there,

"And what will my reward be?"

"I'll allow you to cum."

Allow him to cum?

Fuck. The words alone make Sukuna throb in his boxer briefs, another pearl of pre-cum leaking out of him.

"Then stop acting like a squeamish virgin and sit on my face for real."

"I told you to shut up, brat."

"Then shut me up with your pussy."

Sukuna grabs your ass cheeks tightly and pulls you down further, making you sit on his face for real. He isn't just a good fuck. He is the best fuck, and he will prove it to you!

He sucks your little swollen clit into his mouth and laughs when you gasp loudly. You grab his hair, tugging on it, making him groan as the slightly painful sensation goes directly to his throbbing cock. And he spoils your pussy like the slut that he is. Teases your clit with the stiff tip of his tongue and pushes the metal ball of his tongue piercing under the hood of your clit until you tremble and moan loudly.

He gets really into it, fucks you with his tongue and sucks savagely on your clit, eats you so good that it only takes a few minutes until you let out a high-pitched squeal and buck wildly against his face.

Hot, sticky liquid gushes over his lips, and you rock against him, voice breathless but still so stern,

"Open your eyes. Watch me cum all over your pretty face. Yeah, take it all, you little slut. Drink it all up."

Sukuna's eyes meet yours, and he moans, and his hips buck involuntarily, cock so desperate that he is rutting against thin air while pulsing pre into his boxer briefs.

He drinks you up, pushes his pierced tongue deeply into your twitching pussy, and licks it all up, basking in the way you mewl his name for a split second before you regain control and run a hand through his tousled pink hair, smoothing it down again,

"You are a good little fucktoy, Sukuna. Well done."

Sukuna's cock throbs at your words, and he blinks in surprise. Ok, so it's not just degradation that gets him excited, but also praise? Well, he is so fucked. So thoroughly fucked, and he loves every second of it!

You climb off his face, kneeling on the bed beside him, and let your small hands trail down Sukuna's defined pecs and his taut abs, following his tattoos down to the hem of his boxer briefs.

"You have such a nice body, Sukuna. The perfect little fucktoy. And what about that pretty cock? Is he perfect too, hm?"

A breathy gasp falls from his lips when you run a single finger over the thick bulge in his boxer briefs, slowly running up and down his whole throbbing length. Just a light, teasing touch, but it makes his vision blurry and pulls a desperate-sounding whine from his mouth.

It's so fucking humiliating. He's making such pathetic noises. But he simply can't bring himself to care. Not when he finally feels alive again when he is with you. His low voice is thick with need when he whispers,

"You said you would make me cum."

"Uh uh, I didn't say I would make you cum, sweetheart. I said I will allow you to cum. Let's see how things will go. Let's see how excited my little fucktoy will get. Don't forget what you are here for, Sukuna, baby. You are in this bed to serve me."

"Fuck..."

It takes all of Sukuna's willpower to not shove a hand into his boxer briefs and relieve that fucking pressure.

You straddle him again, sit on his abs this time, rubbing yourself on them, making him gasp when he feels how wet and hot your pussy is and how you spread your cream all over him. It's sexy. Nasty, just as he likes it.

Sukuna can see your face now, and it makes his chest fill with elation when he sees the fucked out expression on your face as you slide over his firm abs, rubbing your little clit against his hard muscles, your eyes closing and lips hanging open dumbly when you moan so sweetly and twitch on his stomach, reaching another orgasm on him.

He could sneak a hand behind you, could jack off behind your back, but he doesn't do it. He wants to be your good little toy.

You don't stop but keep rutting against him, your fingernails digging into the swell of Sukuna's pecs, leaving their crescent-moon-shaped marks there as you abuse your puffy clit further on his abs.

And Sukuna grabs your hips and helps you ride his abs, grinning as he hears your harsh breathing and feels you starting to tense up again. Another loud squeal tumbles out of your mouth, and Sukuna is about to taunt you for being so horny for him that you cum on him three times in a row when he feels something hot and wet on his abs, much more than during your other two orgasms.

You hum and grind against him as more wetness flows out of you and onto Sukuna's stomach, warm and sweet-smelling, and Sukuna's gaze snaps to yours in understanding.

You laugh and rub yourself against him, smiling that devilish smile as you pee on him. And he can't hold back the loud moan falling from his lips, can't stop his cock from twitching, almost cumming in his boxer briefs.

"You like that, you fucking pervert? Yeah, Sukuna? You like getting peed on? Well, I have more for you, my nasty boy."

You slide off him, hands grabbing his boxer briefs and pulling them down, finally freeing his aching cock. Sukuna groans when it springs up, bouncing lightly, rock-hard, pre-cum dripping down from it onto his abs.

You throw one leg over his thighs, kneeling over his stiff cock, and then more piss rains down from your hot cunt and onto Sukuna's cock.

And Sukuna moans and curses loudly as his back arches off the bed, and he cums all over himself, untouched, shooting hot ropes of cum out of his tip, all over his abs, and over your cunt that's hovering above him.

His vision goes black for a moment, and his breath comes out in loud, harsh huffs, his whole body shaking from the intensity of his orgasm. He thinks he never came so hard in his life.

You laugh and finally sit down on Sukuna's twitching cock, letting it glide between your wet folds, making him buck against you. But you don't let him push inside you. You just rub your wet cunt slowly over his spent length, watching with an amused smile as you milk every last spurt of cum out of Sukuna while you let more pee trickle over his cock, mixing his cum with your piss.

Sukuna's heart is beating so fast that he feels lightheaded. And the overstimulation makes him sob, makes his oversensitive cock ache and twitch, but oh, how he craves this sweet pain. He lets his head fall back on the pillow, letting more low moans spill from his lips, eyes closing as he pushes his slowly softening cock between your pussy lips, whimpering softly anytime that delicious pain pulses in his length.

He doesn't know how long it takes before you stop moving on him and slip off his lap. But he sighs when the sticky heat of your cunt leaves his cock.

The bed creaks as you crawl up to him to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, whispering in his ear,

"You are such a mess, Sukuna. Such a cute mess for me. I'm excited to see what else you can give me, my little fuckdoll."

You leave him lying there on top of the blanket, his cock pulsing hotly from the overstimulation, mind hazy with post-coital bliss, chest heaving with heavy breaths, skin sticky from his cum, and your squirt and pee.

It's disgusting, and he should feel embarrassed, but he can't help but moan softly as a small smile creeps over his face. Sukuna feels satisfied like he hasn't felt in months. He hopes you will use him again as your personal fucktoy very soon.

FUCKTOY SUKUNA, I WANT YOU 💗💗 I wrote the first draft of this story a while ago and then thought I wouldn't dare publish it because it's too nasty, but I changed my mind, lol. I hope it was ok and that my fellow sub!Sukuna enjoyers accept this treat ;)

There will be a second part!! The story got too long, and there would have been too many sex scenes, so I decided to split it.

Thank you so much for reading 💗 Reblogs and comments would be very sweet!

HERE IS PART 02

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna #sukuna smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna #tw piss #tw dark content

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yanderenightmare · 3 months ago

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♡ TW: nsfw, noncon, yandere, kidnapped reader, murder of nameless side characters

♡ fem reader

Thinking about that moment of violent change you’re forced to go through when your loving boyfriend becomes the terrifying man you don’t recognize—and how it completely eradicates the reality you’d grown so comfortable in, realizing it was all some perfectly orchestrated lie.

Rope burns on your wrists and ankles, tears streaking your chunky cheeks, and a poor soul’s blood on your pretty face belonging to some guy who’d gotten a little too close for comfort.

He’d cut him down like it was nothing.

The knife is held still by his side, a shining red murder weapon, dripping on the floor in the growing pond by his feet. He sighs heavily, casts his head back then looks behind him, beholding you through slim eyes, clicking his tongue, “Look what you made me do…”

He wouldn’t be the only one… several victims followed in his bloody path—witnesses who’d seen him struggle with you, kicking and screaming for all your worth, trying anything to get away. You were all too easily manhandled into the car, and could only watch behind the locked door, banging with bound fists on the glass while he gutted other passersby who’d threatened to call the police.

Driving off, he growls at you, first to shut up and then, “That was your fault—if only you’d been a good girl, none of those innocent people would have had to die.” His knuckles whiten on the wheel, wringing it in his stained grip—scarlet on ivory. “If you don’t want any more blood on your hands, you better sit pretty and not cause me any more trouble.”

You sob uncontrollably and inconsolably despite the threat—you can’t stop yourself—you can’t even comprehend his words. None of it makes any sense. You’d seen it all, and yet you can’t understand it—any of it. You’d watched the sweet guy you knew shed his skin and become a monster right before your eyes. It must be some bad dream, some terrible, awful, horrible nightmare.

But even if it is, you don’t want him touching you ever again. It makes you physically sick to your stomach to think you’d ever shared a bed with him—exchanged sweet nothings in the damp heat of each other. No, no, no, it’s not the same person—it can’t be. It can’t be true. What about the smiles you’d shared over breakfast, those times you’d surprised each other at lunch, all the dates, all the gifts, all the kisses, the future you’d talked about?

You’d fallen in love. But you’ve fallen in love with someone who doesn’t even exist.

He makes sure the door to the bedroom’s under lock and a key he stores somewhere you won’t find it. You squirm in your bonds on the bed when he approaches, shivering with whimpers under his hands, flinching at his touch while he unties you, then cringing as he angles your face to look at him—wanting to pry free, anything not to look into those changed eyes.

You hadn’t thought his build was imposing before, it hadn’t struck you as lethal. Naively, you’d thought him cozy—a big chest and a warm embrace he would scoop you up in, a safe place you could live. He’s cold now, menacing and filthy from his crimes—the body of a killer, a cold-blooded murderer. He’s so big it makes the room feel too small for the both of you. Claustrophobic.

He forces your gaze to him, and it’s all you see, those eyes, those unrecognizable eyes, with that look within you can’t understand, beholding you with burden.

“I still love you,” he states, though it angers him. “Even though you broke my heart. I still love you.”

You shake your head, or you try to, but it results in only tiny tremors caught in his hand where he keeps your chin, bloody fingers buried in your plump cheeks, squeezing so hard you wince.

“But it doesn’t come for free,” he seethes with an awful sneer. A type of grimace you’d never thought him capable of, overfilled with disdain. “My love is earned. And after all you did today, you’re in deep debt.”

He lets go of your face with a nasty shove, taking a mean grip on your shirt instead, using both fists to tear it down the middle. You yelp and cover yourself, but that only angers him further—causing him to grab your wrists and pin them to your side. You think you feel your joints popping.

“Test me, and I’ll hurt you,” he growls, his teeth bared at your ear where your face curls to hide itself in the pillow. “I don’t want to, but if that’s what it takes to make you sorry, then so be it. Be good, and I won’t have to take it that far.”

You lie as still as you can muster while he removes the rest—roughly as he goes—your bra, your skirt, your underwear. You only snivel and toil with the sheets in weak little fists, making your joints cramp up—feeling raw under him, at the mercy of those blood-dried hands.

You understand what he’s about to do, and yet it doesn’t really dawn on you before you hear the sharp ringing of his belt buckle being undone. You don’t look, but you don’t close your eyes either—the room is already dark enough that closing your eyes would make you feel too close to death. So, you keep your gaze fixed to the side, to the stale wall.

The bed bounces you as he shuffles. The urge to run bubbles within, but you know it wouldn’t be to your advantage. So your mind spins, thinking of other possibilities, growing ever more panicked when coming up empty.

He spits on your slit, then rears it with his spitefully erect shaft—pushing in without further prep. And you lose all sense of control.

Twisting at the attack, you scream again, “No! Stop—”

Your hands barely touch him before he’s answered the protest with a tightening grip on your neck. Unrelenting, your throat instantly snares, and you choke on any further outburst.

“I told you,” he chastises. “Why do you have to force my hand, huh?”

You gasp for any sliver worth of air, sipping through the cracks of his chokehold, but it’s very nearly sealed completely shut. You try lifting his grip with your own, both hands holding onto his wrist, wanting to pull loose but achieving nothing.

It’s so pitiful that he ignores the effort. Using his remaining hand to continue what he’d set out to do. Planting his tip at your unprepped entrance, he wasted no time before surging forward.

Your vision starts to spot, and your hands grow weak, barely hanging on.

“That’s good. Lie still and take it,” he groans—his lips on your cheek as he bullies through your dry walls, only aided by his spit. “And I might consider once’ enough.”

You don’t have a choice, feeling your body go numb. He picks your thigh up over his hip and drives deeper—starting a steady pace without letting go of your throat, squeezing the life out of you. Your hands finally drop, lying limp, and still, you feel it deep within—the thrusting as he beats your sorry cunt into an aching mess, then fills you up with awful warmth.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks ♡ JJK – Nanami, Geto, Naoya

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

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silentheiss · 2 days ago

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When Shen Yuan transmigrates in his definitely-not-favorite novel, he’s ecstatic. Sure, dying sucked, but he got a second chance! In a body that looked exactly like his, only healthy and with a perfectly good golden core, too!

He’s a rouge cultivator now, with a cool sword, enough money, long-ass hair and zero actual responsibilities!

So, all in all, Shen Yuan hit a jackpot. He travels, makes notes of monsters he sees and sometimes fights, collects rare herbs and flowers and feels just great.

He feels decidedly less great, when after defeating a Six Eyed Spider Viper in some nameless, remote village, he receives a bride as a payment. It shockes him into a stupor for long enough for the villagers to think he actually agreed, so as soon as he can talk again, he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind:

“This one is already married!”

It doesn’t work as well as he hoped.

“So Nie Rong can be a second wife.” An auntie, possibly Nie Rong’s mother, waves her hand dismissively at him.

“No, no,” Shen Yuan scrambles. “This one wasn’t being clear enough. This one is not in position to take wives! He is- is, uh.”

“Master is a wife?” Nie Rong chrips, her cheeks reddened.

“Uh. Sure. Yeah.” Shen Yuan would like to leave the village immediately. A thrill of defeating a cool fucking monster wasn’t even worth the embarrassment!

“Master’s husband must be quite powerful to get such a cultivator as a wife.” One of the villagers says, eyes glinting with suspicion. “Who’s he?”

“This one’s husband is indeed very powerful.” Shen Yuan squeezes out of himself, taking a step back. “Very possessive, too.”

“How come he lets his husband travel so far?”

“Oh! It’s easy, really. This one’s husband’s harem is big enough to slip away for a week or two!”

An agitated murmur passes through the small crowd. Shen Yuan sighs, feeling the control of the situation slipping through his fingers.

“He doesn’t sound like a very good husband.” One of the aunties says. “Maybe you should divorce him and marry our Rong-er after all.”

“This one’s husband is not someone one just divorces.” Shen Yuan takes another step back. “Thanking everyone for kind words, but-"

“Oh.” Nie Rong says, eyes downcast. “It’s the Emperor, isn’t it? That’s why Daozhang can’t leave?”

“Yes!” Shen Yuan yelps before he can really think. “So you can see how the situation is difficult for this one.”

It’s a shit solution to a problem. Might be the worst, actually. But then again, Luo Binghe would never know and Shen Yuan gets a perfect excuse if something similar ever happens again.

And it does happen. Quite too often, if Shen Yuan is honest — shouldn’t all the girls belong to the protagonist anyway?!

So, Shen Yuan uses his perfect excuse: No, he cannot marry your pretty little daughter, he’s an Emperor Luo’s husband. And: No, fellow rouge cultivator, he will not share your bed, he’s spoken for!

Everything works without a hitch, until one day Shen Yuan walks into an inn where he’s been staying for last couple of days and comes face to face with the Emperor of Combined Realms, Lord Luo himself.

Shit.

#oops!!#is that fun?#do we want a second part?#lmk!#svsss #shen yuan #luo binghe #svsss ficlet #svsss fic rec #svsss au #svsss fanfiction #bingqiu

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ophelieverse · 5 months ago

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This is the first time that i send in a request,but I’ve been your fan for quite a while now🥰🥰I love your blog and your content,especially your writing,so can I please ask you to write something about Daemon x niece!reader where she is the daughter of Aemma and Viserys and he’s obsessed with her?It can be whatever you want!Thank you so much!🫶🏻

⋆ ˚｡⋆little bird

Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

-Summary:Daemon is in Harrenhal and he’s tormented by the memories of the only woman that he had ever loved:his niece,the long gone princess Y/n.

-Warnings:death of character,incest,age gap,Daemon never married Laena,reader has valyrian features,reader died of childbirth,reader is mother of twin girls(you can decide if Baela and Rhaena),mental torture(?)sexual thoughts,Daemon being himself,Alys tormenting Daemon and him losing his mind.

•-aww thank you so much for your words and support,also thank you for requesting and let me know what you guys think,sending love🩷🫶🏻

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The palate is a treacherous bastard,a vile traitor.The palate,the tongue,the teeth,the throat:damned monsters,damned stabs in the shoulders.

They rebelled and tortured Daemon intimately,as well as the strawled murmurs of soaking whispers in the dark and lonely castle,as well as the murmurs of that nameless woman.Everything bothered him,in that world built by the blood-stained hands of false and courteous murderers,and the raw truths of the tormented men were no exception.

After all,he should have known - and he knew it, he knew it and he had not stopped,he had become crazy! -that once he tasted the most precious wine of the Seven Kingdoms his mouth would detest any other drink.His primordial instinct and his spirit of survival had tried to warn him,to make him understand,to make him glimpse the inexorable fate in which there would be a before and there would of course be an after.

Because any other flavor would never have been as sweet as the taste of her.

And nothing more would have been the same, nothing would make sense anymore.Daemon had only really understood it after kissing her:it had become impossible to even look at another woman.

He could still remember the first time that he had kissed her,before going to win the war in the Narrow Sea in her father’s name.He had only kissed her once and it had been like savoring the mouth of a fucking divine gift that fell down from heaven,kissing a promise of grace and eternal damnation.An inexperienced,sweet,innocent mouth.

His,Y/n was all his.

She was still a girl at the time,two years younger than her older sister Rhaenyra,just a naive girl that stug with two skinny legs and without even a woman's shape,the silver-haired doll,the trained King's Landing little bird that squeakes and chirps in the shade of her father's words and actions:Y/n, stupid and spoiled princess,daughter of the Long Summer,had let herself be kissed by him and had not stopped him,she had not pushed him away.

Crazy him and crazy her.Or maybe just him, or maybe just her.Who went crazy first,who did? Who had it been?Daemom didn't remember the fucking way those damn events that had folded him in two,disintegrated his entire soul.Killed him not once but a hundred,a thousand,a thousand and again a thousand times.

Who went crazy first?Who?Daemon has started to believe it was him.

It’s been years since the last time he had kissed Y/n,years since he last touched her warm skin,looked into her bright lilac eyes,that he had saw her with their daughters in her arms.

Yet,that night,in the dark and anguish halls of Harrenhal,his little bird had shown up to him.The ghost of Y/n imagine had suddenly appeared in a corridor in the west wing yard like an evanescent appearance,like his worst nightmare and had resumed chirping the same nauseating and tormenting phrases she cunningly gave to all her lords,to all her knights.

She had chirped her thanks,the beautiful words she used to tear from the verses of her beloved romantic ballads,which she used to steal from the fairy tales narrated with placid fervor from the endless rows of her old and decrepit Septas.

She had chirped and chirped and chirped.

Daemon hadn't listened to any of her melancholic sentences and hadn't even paid the slightest attention to her,nothing at all.So the deities and that witch then must have decided to punish him and mock him.They had taken their revenge on all his blasphemies and on all the lives he had snatched with joy.

The pale light of the moon had begun to inflame Y/n long silver braids,braids knotted in a bushy tangle,shaped into circles of blood rays that made her hairstyle look like the one of a small child.The young and innocent girl she once was before Daemon had touched her.A stupid hairstyle that she persided - with a pout - to make her maidens intertwine just like her mother did when she was just a small child.

The red dress that wrapped perfectly around her body,the one that she had wore at the tourney for her last Name Day as a maiden,seemed made of pure liquid blood.Daemon was lost.The red had become fire,it had turned into copper,it had melted into wine.A crown of thorns and autumn leaves in the cold wind of the godswood.

Y/n rosy mouth had stretched out in a brief,false smile,yet what was really false about her?And her elusive purple eyes had reminded him of reality.

The reality where she no longer existed,the one where now he was married to his older sister.He just wants to use her.Everyone uses everyone.He remind himself,he could never love her,not in the way he still loves Y/n.

Suddenly Daemon had realized the existence of his foolish thoughts,he had awakened by the torpor in which her sweet and familiar scent had induced him,and he had understood that he was behaving like a little child that had just woken up from a bed dream,an inexperienced young boy,he looked at her hair,looked at her ephelids,and didn't focus on those small stall tits and her flat,tight belly,and then he thought he had to fix it,that he had to prove to himself that he was a man.

Not the silly man who secretly watched the tears entangled in the eyelashes of a little girl who still slept with the dolls,squeezed in his little embrace,but the real man who fucked women in brothels and got rid of all his most itchy desires. Not the man who trembled in front of a little girl's gaze,but the man who fucked the women quickly and impatiently,without even looking them in the face,fulfilling his needs and his morbid needs.

The man that Daemon was before devoting his life,heart and soul to Y/n.

These thoughts had clouded his soaky mind with vulgar images,they had made his body drunk and frenny.Then he had stretched out towards Y/n, almost staggering,and had devoured her face. Mouth to mouth,he had eaten her lies and her breath.Was it really her,the spectral and little figure that had hunted him since he had step in Harrenhal?Was it really her,the cold and young body he was holding in his arms?He didn’t cared,he needed to feel what he once called love.

His little girl still tasted good,just like he remembered,something sweet,extremely pure. Snow and honey together,what an absurd madness of the senses.Y/n had closed her mouth,her lips soft and eyelids tight,but she had done nothing else.She hadn't disappeared from his touch just like the night before,his rough hands that had begun to mess up her hair and squeeze her thin throat like they used to.

They had kept both eyes closed and he had thought that she was beautiful even in the dark of the dull and worn lights,even in the black of the lowered eyelashes,under the Sun or under the Moon.

Y/n was still as beautiful as the day he had lost her.

And now that she was there,real or not,Daemon had kissed her with a disturbing need and Y/n mouth had moved on his without opening,without granting him anything more.Nothing more of what he already had when she was flourishing with life.

In that moment a cold wind had crept all over his back,until it even caressed his neck and wet cheeks.When did he started crying?Too late he had realized that it had not been a cold wind that had appeased his burns.

«Y/n,my Y/n.»Daemon had murmured«My little bird of the summer,my frightened little bird.»he kept talking on her lips.

«Uncle.»even her voice sounded like she was still that young girl he used to watch run to him,blushing when he would bring her a gift from one of the cities he had visited.

She had caressed his pained face and kissed him like a little girl who can't even imagine that there is anything else after a kiss on the lips.Like a sweet child that still dreamed and hoped for a bright and long future ahead of her.

Maybe at that moment Daemon must have said her name again,because the figure in his arms smiled«Y/n,my little girl,Y/n.»like a prayer.

«Do you still desire me,uncle?Do you still think about me?»her voice,a soft whisper,that cut into his heart.

How naive and stupid,stupid little woman.

He could have turned her like a worn sock,lifted her skirt and possessed it in any dark corner of the castle,stretched her on the floor and forced her to open her legs for him.For him,only for him. First the knees,then the thighs,until he devour her with his hands and tongue,until he fuck her all.

That little creature who didn't even know the thoughts that animated the minds of the men around her,the minds of all animal men just like him.He could have done anything to her,anything unimaginable and unpronounceable,and continued to devour her for whole hours,years and centurie, millennia and other millennia,to the point of satisfying her every repressed need and even more.

And Daemon did it,fulfilling his duties as a husband that resulted in the living love that took form in their twin daughters and son.

He enjoyed her,eat her,mark her at every possible point.He could have done anything for her even now.But Y/n had placed a hand on his heart and more snow had fallen into his chest,appeasing his every pain,every craving.

«Or is my sister crown that you lust over now?»Y/n sharp tongue managed to open another cut in his chest.

Yes,he wanted Rhaenyra crown but it was her he wanted to make his Queen.It’s always been like that,in his deepest dreams,to rule by her side,to pass the throne to their son and be with her forever to the end of his days.

«It’s always ever been you and i’m sorry that this has costed your life.»Daemon words were half stuck in his throat.

Stupid little girl,stupid.She was too good for him.She was pathetically pure.She will never be able to survive in this world,she would become food donated to dogs and worms.Another dead flesh left danging on the spades of this rotten and corrupt castle from the slimy foundation.Another head detached from one's body and turned into a trophy to show to enemies.

Another life that he had ruined.

The images of these elucubrations of his had scared him so much was he afraid?Was the burning in the pupils and ribs fear of seeing her dead or desire to kill or even a fever to possess her?To push her away from his arms,from his belly outstretched towards her.

Daemon had already lost Y/n once,in their old shared chambers of the Red Keep,drenched in sweat and blood.Screaming in fear and pain,just like her mother,as she gave birth to their son.A life for a life,the child survived and the mother died without being able to meet each other.

And now she was there,after so many years,Daemon had only glimpsed at her wet lips and red cheeks,then started yelling at her to leave.It wasn’t real,nothing of this was,his wife,his Y/n was dead,ashes in the wind.

«Go away.Get away right away or you'll regret it.I'll make you regret it,I swear to you.I'll make you regret anything you've ever done or thought if you don't leave now.Go away!»Daemon was screaming like a mad man,but his words were not directed towards Y/n.

His crude and harsh words were echoed only for the silent witch that lived in that old and empty castle.

He must have insulted her,or he had cursed the bastard witch back.He didn’t cared because now Y/n had escaped from his head and eyes with every new sip of wine that he took once he walked back into the dark halls.

Her ethereal figure disappeared at each red bottom of a cup he had swallowed in an attempt to forget the circles of her damn braids.A new cup of wine at every turn of the silver locks and then a hysterical laugh every moment he saw the lilac eyes of that damn girl in the accusatory ones of the witch who sat next to him.

«You are rather unrequited tonight,your grace.What’s bothering you?»Alys Rivers was her name and her voice was as enchanting as her looks.

A punch against the table at every drop of watered down flavor,at every cup of all those lousy drinks that she had given him to help him sleep.A mediocre taste that made him miss better flavors - the taste of him.

Almost as she could read his mind«In love?You?»Alys sound surprised.

And a thud in the heart as every second passes,at the stroke of the hours,at the slow formation of a nebulous wall of chaos inside him.Honey,snow,sweet salt of tears never shed. What was happening to him?What was going on in his head,in his sternum,between his legs?Had Alys poisoned him?

«Y/n.»she spoke again«The little girl that you used to bounce on your knees,the woman that died to give you an heir.»she taunted him,the ghost of a smile on her lips.

Daemon felt his heart shatter in his chest,pain at every breath.His hands burning like the rest of his body,the wine down his throat ready to choke him with all his guilt.

«Where is she?»he asked then,turning to look at the woman next to him.

Where is Y/n?

He had screamed at her out in the gardens and she was gone,she had flown away.

«Where is she?Tell me.Tell me where she is!»the cups on the wooden table crushed on the floor,the cold stones now painted of red wine.

«Where is Y/n?»Alys asked calmly,not even getting up from her chair as his grace thrown everything around«The little girl is far away.But she’s not unreachable,you will see her again soon.»she answered him.

Daemon had was spinning,he felt the nausea coming up from his stomach.He tried to walk and a gag forced him to kneel on the ground,to throw his head against the floor.

«Y/n,my little bird,Y/n.Y/n where are you?»he choked out.

She was there,he had seen her just a few moments before and the other previous nights that he had spent in Harrenhal.He held her,kissed her and it felt so real.She didn't run away,she didn't cry,she didn't even lower her head.Nothing,nothing of nothing.She just looked at him for a second and then she left.

Now she was gone,again.She was gone,Y/n,was gone and Daemon wanted her back,like he had always wanted her,he couldn’t breathe,Y/n come back to him.

Come back,stupid little girl,come back here right away.One moment,he needed to touch her,to kiss her,to have her,just another moment to share with her.His little girl,his little bird.His,his,his,she had always been his.Come back,he needed to hold her and protect her.He would protect her from anyone,even himself if she was so afraid.He was scared too.

«Your grace?»Alys voice was distant,loosing itself in the air.

Daemon crawled on the wet floor,getting up«The little bird.I have to find,I have to find...»the world became dark and dyed of red.There was laughter around his body and someone sneering his name.

«I have to find...»he repeated.

He had to look for her.He hadn't been able to resist her,he hadn't slept even a minute.He had walked around the castle like a mad man,reaching his chambers only to find her inside.

The room looked like the one they lived in the Red Keep,warm and familiar.A small figure appeared,wearing a old white nightgown drenched in blood,pale hair wild on her head in the same that she had died in.

Y/n was there,holding to her chest a child wrapped into a blue blanket like a present.Their son,the joyful and smart boy that looked exactly like his mother and that she had never even seen before closing her eyes forever.She was sitting and crying .He had felt like he was dying and had taken a few uncertain steps.His eyes had moved frantically and they had glimpsed the blood-stained sheets,the stained dress on her thighs, the hands holding the child.

As soon as Y/n had seen him,with shiny eyes, huge tears on that small face she had brought her red fingers on her lips,as if to ask him to be silent as she rocked her baby.The smell of iron had never disgusted him,never shaken him,not until that moment.The little girl's legs had continued to drip and form spots on slippery spots on the floor.

«You always wanted a son.»Y/n voice was paralyzing«I should have know that this would have been my end.You can never surrender to your desires.»she didn’t looked at him,calmly holding the cloth in her arms but he knew she was accusing him of the same sin his brother had committed.

He had never hated blood with such despair,never hesitated before his duties,never thought of spitting acid on his oldest loyalty«I should have…i should have saved you.»he breathed.

Y/n smiled softly«No,this is the price you have to pay for taking what isn’t yours.The throne,the crown…me.»her empty eyes burned his flesh«You will die here,uncle,and you will loose everything.»she warned him.

Daemon vomited until he almost fainted,almost suffocated in his own vomit.Tears mixed with the pain and guilt on his face and his arms suddenly gave in.He felt hands on his neck and lips near his ear.He hit his head against the floor again and rocky voices pronounced his name more times.

He tried to crawl but threw up again,and then again and again.He couldn't stop anymore.He tried to grab a the chair next to door,but the world began swirling to turn and he lost himself in meaningless images.Before closing his eyes Daemon only saw pale silver birds with broken necks and torn wings.

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crescenthistory · 27 days ago

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hi angel!!!! absolutely adore your blog and especially the way you write for regulus 🥹🥹 makes my heart so happy, like that’s baby boy!!!! thank you so much for sharing with us!!! i have a prompt request but only if you feel so inclined!!! number d8 “where is she?" with regulus, pretty please, like maybe something happens to reader and he is the last to find out (busy w quidditch or prefer things) so when someone finally tracks him down being like your girl needs you, his composure is for once non existent and he is panicking!!!! ughhh hurt/comfort with reg is everything!!! anyway only if you feel my up to my love no pressure ever - love your blog regardless 💗💗💗

hi my love<33 this is hands down the sweetest request i have received, thank you so much for being so kind 🤍🤍 i genuinely appreciate your words so much! as for the request, i adore some hurt/comfort with reg, and this is an idea i've had for a while, so it was so fun to write

Prompt: D.8 "Where is she?"

Words: 6k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, severe injury (happens off screen, explained and treated on screen), lacerations, typical regulus anxiety (overworked), best friends to lovers, pomfrey being a badass, snape is a villain, animal abuse (technically), background marlene, rosekiller, etc.

It was common knowledge that Slytherin quidditch practice was never to be disturbed, especially this close to the final match of the season against Gryffindor.

This was Regulus’ first year as captain and he was determined for it to be written in the history books as a victorious one, to make himself deserving of the title. Playing opposite his brother and his best friends didn’t lessen the pressure much, either.

He knew he had been pushing the team quite hard, but he also knew that if anyone could handle it, it was them. Evan and Barty funnelled all their chaotic energy into quidditch once they realised just how much it mattered for their mate, and Dorcas had just as much to gain from winning against Marlene as Regulus had against Sirius. Fenwick had had his skull bashed in by enough bludgers in his career to not be able to formulate any complaints, even if he had them. The rest of the team were relatively young players, a risk most others had chastised Regulus for taking, but one that was playing off beautifully – and with those rumours, they wanted to prove themselves, too.

There really was little problem with this arrangement, he told himself, other than the fact that he was perhaps wearing himself a bit thin when balancing it all with his prefect duties and exams.

And, more importantly, missing you.

You had been the best friend he could have asked for during this hectic year of his, always standing by his side, just as much of a loyal team-player as those on his actual sports team. That unwavering dedication you had shown him over the years that taught him that maybe, just maybe, he was capable of being loved – and most definitely of loving, because Regulus would be damned if he didn’t admit that that was the only appropriate word for how he felt about you.

Not that he had told you that yet, though, and neither had you. It was never the right time, and you both knew, at least to some degree. For now, it was enough. You had each other, always, and it was enough. He told himself as much, at least.

Regulus was trying to zero his thoughts back on his team running through their plays off-broom on the ground, looking for any weakness in their formation, when the cardinal rule of not disturbing practice was broken.

“Black!” A voice shouted as it ran across the pitch from the school.

Regulus squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will the pestering fourth year away, one of those who just seemed to always be there, nameless and bothersome. It was to little avail, though, judging by the sounds of his heavy steps hitting the still somewhat moist dirt on the field.

“Black, I have to–”

“We are in the middle of a practice!” Regulus cut the kid off, letting his nerves get the better of him as he saw most of his players stop in the midst of what had been their best run-through so far. “Unless someone has died, it can wait.”

“But–”

“Has someone died?” Regulus had his hands on his hips, half aware that he looked way too much like his older brother as he regarded the student-shaped owl in front of him with derision.

“No, but–”

“Are someone in the midst of dying? Like within the hour?”

“N– no.”

“Then you may leave.” The student looked thoroughly confused, clearly not having been properly warned by whoever sent him as a make-shift owl that this was the only response he would be getting from Regulus. He could vaguely hear you whispering poor boy in his mind, always advocating for Regulus’ softer side, but right now he pushed it away as he turned back to his teammates. “Whatever it is will still be there when we are finished up here.”

Regulus didn’t wait for him to go before he began to pretend he was air, attention fully on his team once more.

Barty snickered as he tried to lean his chin on Evan’s shoulder, only to have the taller boy fully shove him off. Regulus shook his head, ignoring the crestfallen student beside him as he tried to increase his energy levels back to where they needed to be.

“Okay, that last round was getting closer to where we want to be. Ready to take to the sky for the last few minutes?”

When he finally stepped foot inside the quidditch locker rooms, Regulus sped through his shower routine. He was eager to get out of there and back to the dorms quick enough to have sufficient time to spend with you before going to sleep. He had half a mind to ask you to sleep in his bed tonight, but he wondered if that might be pushing it since you just did that a few nights ago. Nothing ever happened, of course, you were just the best of friends – and even if you had been something more, it was hard for anything to happen with Evan and Barty in the same room.

You just brought him a sense of peace he found himself craving more day by day. He wished to squeeze out every ounce of it he possibly could.

His hair was still wet, bag thrown about as haphazardly over his shoulder as he could allow himself to without spiralling – which is to say, he still looked perfectly polished to anyone but him. He turned to give the team lingering behind an attempt at an emphatic great work today that ended up falling a bit short from his hoarse voice. Thankfully, everyone else seemed tired enough to accept it without reservation, and Regulus could exit the changing room before all but running towards the Slytherin dorms.

On his way there, he passed through the Great Hall, attempting to slow his stride to look a bit more composed, but quite ready to throw all of it away for the night just to curl up with you.

“Re- Regulus?!”

Sirius’ incredulous voice sounded behind him, and though Regulus loved his brother dearly, he took a deep sigh at the disturbance, knowing that, with him, it would likely not be a short one.

“That would be me.” Regulus turned around with a sarcastic half-smile, only for it to waver when he saw the expression on Sirius’ face.

There was an evident tension in his face when he looked Regulus up and down, as if trying to figure him out while a thousand thoughts ran through his mind. Sirius’ lips were pressed tight, as if holding back a severe frown and his eyes were decidedly clouded with worry.

“Reg, what are you doing here?” His voice conveyed more confusion than upset, but both were woven into his tone.

“I’m… on my way to Slytherin? We just finished practice.”

It was as if Sirius found an answer to his confusion as his face settled into a form of defeat. “You don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?” Regulus stared his brother down, heart speeding up in his chest, but he could feel it in his whole body. “What is it, Siri?”

“James sent someone to tell you,” Sirius says, speaking more to himself.

“Tell me what?” Regulus’ patience was worn thin by his pulse straining his skin.

“Uh, it’s Y/N.” Pangs shot through his body, pulling every vein taut. “She– she will be fine, don’t worry, but–”

“Where is she?”

Regulus struggled to make out where Sirius stood in front of him as the world seemed to tunnel around him and his mind was immediately elsewhere, immediately with his best girl, imagining any possible horror that might have overcome you. Had it not been for Sirius’ delivery of the news and the way he looked at Regulus, he might have felt more calm. But he had always known his big brother to be more composed than this.

“The infirmary–”

He didn’t need to hear more before he was running at full speed down the hallway.

Little to nothing registered with Regulus on the way to the infirmary, that he for the first time in his life realised was located painfully far away from the Great Hall. Illogical, given how many students go through there throughout their days.

He felt lighter than ever as he was entirely certain he had never run this quickly in his life, simultaneously as every limb felt heavy with worry.

She will be fine is only reassuring if he was concerned you had died – in every other scenario it is the worst thing to hear, because it confidently means you are not fine right now.

Regulus is half aware that he has run through two ghosts, into one student and past a professor – he thinks maybe Flitwick? – but he paid none of them any mind, willing to take the point deductions or even detentions, if only they don’t slow him down. He can deal with everything and anything else later.

When he finally reached the door to the infirmary, it took everything in him to come to a halt.

He all but crashed into the door, catching himself with one hand on the doorframe as he breathed heavy, giving himself but two seconds to collect himself, lest he be banned from the infirmary by life by Madam Pomfrey. That was not something he could afford right now.

Still heaving, he opened the door and took two steps inside – before his vision became entirely swamped by that very same woman, standing with her hands on her hips.

“Is she here?” He tried to get out before she could say anything.

“No visitors at the moment,” Madam Pomfrey said sternly.

“Please, is she here?” Regulus couldn’t even think to say your name, but the look on the matron’s face told him she knew.

“She is, and she is alright, but there will be no visitors at the moment.” Her voice was a bit softer now, but she was not relenting and she was not moving.

Regulus’ breath picked back up, and he didn’t register the tears that were forming in his eyes. A choked please was forming on his tongue when–

“Please.”

You beat him to it. Your meek voice sounded from a few curtains down behind Madam Pomfrey. Regulus didn’t hear the noise that escaped him when he heard the soft pain in your usually chipper voice, but the matron did. Still, it seemed to be on your account and not the lovestruck, fear-sickened boy in front of her, that she took a step to the side.

“Only you, and it must be brief.”

Her words were mostly caught by the air that Regulus left in his wake the moment she moved to the side, because as soon as he could he was by the curtain he had heard you speak from behind, ever so gently pulling it to the side.

“Oh, mon amour.”

The sight he was faced with both mended and broke his heart – because you were there, awake and already looking at him, but your forehead and right arms were bandaged and your face bore telltale signs of pain. He could see tear tracks down your delicate cheeks, mascara smudging just barely beneath your eyes. You looked happy to see him, he could see your chest heave a breath of relief, but that was about the only positive thing he could decipher in you at the moment.

At last, his movements were measured and careful again, but for once not for the sake of how he was perceived, but rather to not disturb the space around you, as if that could lessen your pain. He barely managed to close the curtain behind him with trembling hands, giving you a semblance of privacy, even in this infirmary that he had no idea hosted how many others.

There was enough space on the left side of the bed beside you for Regulus to take his rightful place by your side, as close as he dared. His eyes kept jumping all over your body and face, breath hitched.

Your name escaped his lips in a small breath as his eyes widely roamed your form.

He didn’t realise his hand was hovering between you before you reached up to him with your left hand and took it in yours. Your grip was weak and the tips of your fingers cold, but it was still the smooth skin he was used to feeling on his.

Upon your touch, he seemed to be brought back down to earth and the welling tears spilled down his cheeks.

“Oh, Reggie,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “It’s okay, I’m alright.”

“My poor love,” he whispered back, letting his free hand move up to lightly caress your cheek, brushing some damp hair away. It must have gotten wet when Pomfrey tended to whatever wound was bandaged on your upper forehead. “What happened to you, amour?”

Regulus often referred to you with terms of endearment, you knew you were each other’s person, but the absolute softness of them now broke your heart a little.

“It was…” you trailed off, wincing as you scrunched your brows in confusion and consequently pulled on your bandage. “It was an accident.” The sound that escaped you was almost a laugh, but it was too wet and strangled to truly be classified as such.

“What happened?” Regulus’ voice urged, more desperate than before. He held your hand tighter, bringing it closer to his chest, as if to protect it.

“We were helping Kettleburn – unwillingly mind you –”

“Who are we?” Regulus cuts you off, still seeming rather feverish in his desperation to know what was wrong. You squeezed his hand and smiled at him to calm him down.

“An unfortunate bunch of us who happened to be enjoying the fresh air by the benches. Me, Lily, Marlene, Snape, Avery and some others we don’t really know too well, mostly fourth years.”

Regulus scowled at the mention of Snape and Avery, but nodded, as if encouraging you to continue.

“Kettleburn needed some help preparing bait. He believed there was a hippogriff in the Forbidden Forest that he wanted to draw out. It worked a bit too well, a bit too well.”

His brows scrunched at that. “But hippogriffs are mainly peaceful unless you disturb them?” Unease was growing in his stomach.

“Yes, that’s what I said as well,” you feel a bout of dizziness come over you, but try and speak through it. “We were down, probably a bit too close to the forest when it came out. I tried to push the bait towards it carefully, keeping my distance. It just wanted food, you know.”

“But?”

“But Snape and Avery freaked. When it took a step closer, just to eat – they let curses fly, kneejerk self defence reaction they said.”

Regulus had to be mindful to not hurt your hand as his fists clenched on reflex. He settled for holding the sheets beside him disturbingly hard instead – he had already pieced together what happened. “You were still in the line of fire,” he concluded, eyes darkening.

“Yes,” you whispered weakly. “It would have been fine, if it had only been a stupefy or something, but Snape shouted something else, some freak hex. It was like being slashed with a knife all over.”

Regulus’ breath hitched as he let his eyes travel from gauze to gauze. His fingers came up to linger near a particularly large bandage that travelled from your shoulder in under your hospital gown. “All over?” His voice was a mere whisper before he finally looked in your eyes again. He found them teary, and his heart clenched painfully.

“Yeah, I– The biggest one is across my stomach. Pomfrey has patched me up nicely, but it was, uh, it wasn’t good.”

He can’t fight the new tears that spill as he whispers my girl before carefully shuffling closer to you to give you a hug, or at least as close to one you could get right now. His cheek is pressed into yours, his hand on the back of your head, and you can hear him cry directly into your ear, drawing tears from you as well. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered into you. “So sorry, amour.”

“Reggie, there was nothing you could do,” you try to look at him, but his grip on your head remains steadfast.

“No, I should have been there. I’m so sorry.” He presses a kiss to your upper cheek, and his lips are wet. “I should’ve been there.”

“Reg, there was no way anyone could have known.”

He pulls back slightly, looking you over to see if he was hurting you before settling in with his forehead against yours – making sure to avoid the wound in the top left. When his eyes look into yours, you feel a sense of calm finally wash over your body that had been riddled by the shock of being torn open. A grey safe haven.

“I’m sorry, amour.” He keeps saying it like a prayer.

You try to shake your head, but wince at the action. His hand immediately shoots up to your jaw, to still your head. Protecting you, even from yourself. “You’re not allowed to be sorry, Reg, you didn’t do anything. You can only feel sorry for me, which isn’t quite that hard. I look pathetic right now.”

Your half-hearted attempt at humour doesn’t seem to drag him from his despair as his eyes keep searching your face, flitting from the tears to the deviating makeup. His thumb, ever so carefully, drags under your eye to wipe away some of the mascara there. You lean into his touch.

“They tried to tell me, but I– I didn’t know, so I didn’t listen and–”

“You were at quidditch practice,” you cut him off. “Everyone knows you can’t be disturbed then.”

Regulus looked at you incredulously. “This is disturb-worthy, you – anything with you is always the biggest priority. I’m sorry.”

“One girl versus preparing for the match of your life? Hm, I think it’s good you weren’t distracted.” You are determined to lighten his mood, the sinch of his eyebrows and worry in his eyes were beginning to make you feel sick for him.

“But you’re my girl,” he says in a low voice, stressing the words as if to pour additional meaning. “You’re my best friend, my everything. Y/N, you are everything.”

You struggle to come up with a response to that. Any mask Regulus switches between is completely discarded in this small infirmary section with you. When he holds your face and looks at you, you know what it is.

Unable to speak over the lump in your throat, you just drag his face closer to press a sweet kiss to his cheek, as always.

Except this time, while your lips linger on his cheek, Regulus uses his hand still on your jaw to angle your face towards his. With your lips millimetres apart, he looks from them to your eyes, searching for something, and then back down. He whispers another soft everything before pressing his lips to yours.

For all the times you had thought of kissing Regulus, nothing compared. You never expected there to be salty from tears, you never imagined his scent in your nose to be swirled with the disinfectant covering everything around you – but he was right, it was everything. His lips were unbelievably soft against yours, even as he pushed himself even closer to you, as if he needed you underneath his skin, not just on top of it. The pinky underneath your jaw digs into your skin, and you can feel your pulse beat against his finger.

When Regulus pulls away, your mouths are still essentially connected, slightly parted, just breathing into each other. You open your eyes and find him looking at you with nothing short of love.

“I–”

“I love you.” You cut him off, smiling a bit as he half feigns indignance before it turns soft once more.

“I love you, belle fille.”

“I know.”

Finally, finally he gives you a genuine smile. It eases your nerves more than even his eyes could, and you feel yourself melting back into your pillow. Unfortunately, comfort makes you even more aware of the pain and soreness in your body, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again, mostly to himself it seems.

“I won’t allow that.” You tug your intertwined hands closer to you, wanting to share the comfort with him. “I’m alright, Reggie.”

“You’re wounded and bandaged.”

“And I’m perfectly okay.”

He gives you an as if look, but it’s good enough for you, for now. Then his face twisted into something darker and you saw the same desperation from earlier bubbling to the surface.

“What happened to Snape? And Avery?” His hold on you is still soft and caring, but the rest of his body has grown stiff, mind racing with imagined visions of what went down and of what he would do with them in return.

“Nothing yet,” you said with a careful, measured voice. “Kettleburn wanted to ease the situation first, but since it was technically his fault for bringing us along unprompted, I’m not sure what would be done. Detention maybe?”

“Yeah, Kettleburn’s an idiot for that, but Snape was the one who used an unorthodox and probably dark hex. He has to be dealt with.”

Though you don’t condone how fast some of your friends resorted to revenge and violence, even you had to admit that the idea of Snape knowing magic like that didn’t sit right with you either. There was no situation you could imagine where a slasher spell like that would be moral in combat.

“I’m sure they will deal with him tomorrow,” you settle on. “Tonight the main priority seemed to be making sure I don’t bleed out on the grounds.”

Regulus’ look was pained as he pressed his lips together. “How did you get in after that anyway?”

“I don’t remember too well.” You truly didn’t, and the flashes that went through your mind were not ones Regulus would be better off knowing about. “Kettleburn shushed the Hippogriff back into the forest – it thankfully didn’t get severely injured it seemed – while everyone else panicked. Lily and Marlene were the first ones by my side.”

You both smile absentmindedly at that. When you first befriended Lily through your study sessions at the library, Regulus had been unsure of how to approach your joint integration into his brother’s friend group, but the girls had turned out to be some of the best friends you could have asked for.

“Oh!” you exclaim, almost straddling Regulus. “Almost forgot, but you’ll be happy to know that Marlene suckerpunched Snape before they brought me inside with a levitation spell. Pretty gnarly punch, too.”

Regulus’ smiled seemed to be less from gratification and more from endearment from you. “I think I’d like to see Snape get a little more than a punch for what he did to you. But that’s a great start, darling.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at him. “It’s a start. And again, we can deal with all of that tomorrow. I don’t have the energy today.”

“No, no, you are the only priority right now, amour.” Any mirth slipped from his face as he studied you concernedly once more.

“I know you’re “alright”, but you’re not alright” he started. “Could you tell me where it hurt the most?” He looks over you again, as if he can map you out and fight your pain off, spot by spot.

“My stomach and chest got it worst,” you admit. “It’s growing more sore, but Madam said I could get more pain relief in just a little while.”

“Well, she also said I could only stay here for a short while,” he whispers conspiratorially, looking towards the curtain as if he expected it to be ripped back any minute. “Pretty sure we’re way past that.”

“Maybe she heard us crying like babies over a non-fatal injury and figured it was less of a hassle to leave us to it.” You squeeze Regulus’ thigh with a grin and he bites back a yelp.

“She would be wise to do so. Especially because there’s no bloody way I’m leaving.”

You don’t say much to that because you really, really don’t want him to either. You know you are fine, and for his sake you try and seem even more assured of it, but the white panic that soared through your veins those first few minutes is hard to shake. Even though you don’t want him to hold his absence against himself, you don’t like the thought of him leaving now that he was there.

“Has she said anything about a treatment plan? How long you’ll be here? She said you’re fine, so it shouldn’t be too long right?” Though Regulus looks at you as he asks his questions, you know he is already trying to piece together probable answers in his head.

“Most of our first conversation was her narrating what she was doing while I was moaning and not listening.” Your comment was off-handed, but Regulus seemed to wince at the image it painted in his head. “Sorry,” you mumbled bashfully, but he just gave you a smile.”

“Good thing I have the memory of an elephant, then.” Madam Pomfrey’s voice sounded just seconds before she ripped the curtain back and stepped into your little bubble.

Regulus went straight into autopilot, rightening his posture and schooling his expression. You squeezed his hand tighter, so that he couldn’t pull away, but that had not even been any option in his mind. Pomfrey went through the station beside you at the speed of light, way too familiar and comfortable with these procedures.

“Miss L/N had 5 deep lacerations and several shallow ones,” she begins to recite and Regulus hangs onto every word. “The shallow wounds are almost entirely gone from the treatment already, but the more severe ones will need time to recover. She will have to stay in the infirmary overnight today and tomorrow for observation and continue to receive some medication. Among those are pain potions and salves for the wounds. Rebandage every 10 hours and apply new salves.”

“How will that affect her?” Regulus asked, probably pushing his luck with the matron.

“The pain potions will make her a bit slow and groggy, but she will still be awake. Though she should sleep.” At that she gives you a curt look over her shoulder. “The healing process for the wounds will likely be itchy and uncomfortable and she may develop a fever. We will pay particularly close attention to the stomach wounds in case she develops any infections there.”

“What are the symptoms of infections like that?”

You try and pat Regulus’ leg to say down, boy, but he doesn’t give you the time of day, instead focusing fully on any and all information the matron is willing to share with him. You had half a mind to joke that this was private medical information, but let it be.

Madam Pomfrey turns to Regulus at his fourth question, putting her hands on her hips as she measured him closely. It seemed like she decided on something and the next second she exited through the curtains again. You and Regulus barely had time to exchange a glance before she came back and threw a white coat at Regulus who catched it bewilderedly.

“Seems like I’ve got myself an assistant for the remainder of her stay, haven’t I, Mr. Black?”

A slow smile spreads across Regulus’ face before he hurries on the coat. “Yes, Madam.”

Pomfrey talks you – and now, Regulus – through the new pain potion she is about to give you, giving brief background on the ingredients, application and effect when the door to the infirmary slams open, decidedly louder than when Regulus entered earlier. Her eyes squeeze shut, as if pained by the disrespect and incredulity of students, but finished giving you the potion.

“That is no way to enter an infirmary, Mr. Crouch,” she says through half-gritted teeth as she works. She waves at Regulus to open the curtain to your bed, revealing Barty, Evan and Dorcas, all heaving as if they have been running too. “You seem to be particularly loved, Miss L/N. Please never get injured again, it disturbs my workspace.”

Your friends’ eyes are wide as they take in your form where you lay, still rather pathetically, in your bed.

“Merlin’s tits, what happened?” Dorcas asks.

At the same time Barty’s gaze flits between you and Regulus. “Who?” he asks, while looking at you.

“I–” you start, but that was clearly the wrong answer because he then immediately turns to Regulus instead.

“Who?”

There is no hesitation in Regulus’ voice. “Snape.”

Barty’s face morphs from shock and concern into pure determination. He stalks over to you in three wide steps, pressing a quick kiss to the safe side of your forehead, whispering a quiet take care, Treasure, before turning around and dragging Evan out of the infirmary. The other boy’s jaw was ticked shut and went more than willingly.

Even you felt a bit bad for Snape in that moment.

Madam Pomfrey, however, only breathed a sigh of relief that they left so quickly.

Dorcas comes up between you and Regulus, sitting on the very edge of your bed. Pomfrey, with Regulus’ assistance return to the work on your bedside station, though his eyes are on you almost the whole time. He has that furrow between his brows that shows up whenever he focuses intently, and you are torn between wanting to kiss it and draw it.

“We met Marls and Lily in the hallway,” Dorcas explains. “They got halfway through their story before Junior took off with us on leash behind us.”

“Sounds like him,” you laugh, trying to hide how the rumble hurts you. “But really, I’m totally fine. Or, I’m relatively good, and will soon be alright.”

“Yeah, especially when you’ve got two nurses to tend to you,” Dorcas teases, casting Regulus a knowing sideways glance.

“Pardon you, Miss Meadows; I am a Healer.”

You can’t help the snort that escapes you. Despite never wanting to return to this infirmary, you had grown quite fond of the Madam.

“My deepest apologies, Madam,” Dorcas offered with a gleam in her eyes. You could have sworn you saw Pomfrey smile ever so slightly.

“But yeah, Dorc, I’m well taken care of. I’ll be fine.”

“Firstly, just because you’re wounded does not mean you can get away with calling me that.” You laugh once more, happy to not be treated like a dying animal even in such a grave hour. “Secondly, I’m glad. You deserve it, and it was about damn time.”

You pretend to not understand what the last part referred to, but you knew she got you all figured out. You squeeze her leg in a sign of admiration and, perhaps, defeat.

“Thirdly,” Regulus interjects. “You need to either not make her laugh or leave.”

Pomfrey nodded emphatically.

“Not my fault your girl just finds me absolutely hilarious, Black.” Dorcas winks at you.

“Speaking of someone’s girl,” you drawl, trying to even the playing field, which worked, if Dorcas’ light blush was anything to go off of. “Please tell Marlene I say thank you. I don’t think I got to in the whirl of everything and then everyone was thrown out.”

Dorcas’ smile softens. “I will, babe, but you don’t have to thank her. She’s still a bit worried though, so I’ll tell everyone you’re doing fine.”

“Thanks,” you whisper through a smile, accepting Dorcas’ half-hug before she slips out of the infirmary, which finally returns to its prior quietude.

“That’s enough visitors for today!” Pomfrey explains, clapping her hands together as she is done. “Only staff and patients for the rest of the night.” She shoots Regulus and his white coat a knowing glance.

“Does that mean I can sleep?” You don’t mean for your voice to sound so meek, but the pain potion is starting to work, and the more your body relaxes, the more exhausted you realise you are.

Regulus makes a soft cooing sign, coming back to sit on the side of your bed, taking your hand in his and drawing comforting circles on its back. “Yes, amour. We have prepared the station for when we have to wake you in a few hours for reapplication.”

You groan a bit at the thought of being woken, and both your matron and her assistant laugh a bit at you.

“Better that than affection, Miss L/N.”

“Yes, of course,” you relent, letting out a heavy sigh. “Thank you. For all of it.”

Pomfrey merely nods before gathering her things and exiting into the rest of the infirmary, pulling your curtain shut behind you. You expect that is the closest she usually gets to a you’re welcome and you accept it heartily.

Regulus shifts into a more comfortable position beside you, back against your headboard, ensuring you are as comfortable and pain-free as possible. He brings your intertwined fingers up to his lips to press delicate butterfly kisses to them. The softness of it all makes you almost want to cry again, but you bite it back, purely because you can’t stand seeing Regulus cry again tonight, and you knew he would.

“Congratulations on your promotion.” Your tire does not hide the coyness of your tone and he smiles fondly at you.

“Thank you. Think she figured it was easier that way – and I have always been a top student.”

“Yeah, yeah, you and your OWLs.” You turn your head more towards him, smiling. “Such a nerd.”

“I reckon you like that about me.”

“I reckon the same.”

You lean forward and he meets you halfway for a slow kiss. The casualness of it makes it feel all the more important, especially when the past few hours of your life has been anything but.

He leans his head onto yours, drawing you as close as he can with your current circumstances.

“I’m sorry,” Regulus whispers again and you shake your head beneath his. Before you can tell him no, he continues. “Not just for what happened to you or not being there. Just, I don’t know. Being slow.”

“Didn’t we just agree you were bright?” you tease, but when you turn to see the sincerity in his eyes, you soften. “It’s okay, Regulus. We were both slow.”

Neither of you feel compelled to delve into the details of it, and it makes you feel more at ease. Even with everything, this was just how it was supposed to be.

“I’m glad I have you.” It is the best way to summarise it; it was enough. He smiles warmly at you.

“And I you.”

You ignore the strain of some of your bandages as you lean closer to kiss him again, where he meets you enthusiastically – it was worth it.

“Go to sleep now, amour. I’ll be here to ease you awake when the time comes. I’ll always be here.”

And he was.

622 notes · View notes

reminiscingtonight · 4 months ago

Text

Imaginary (Girl)Friend

Leah Williamson x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

[WOSO Masterlist]

You never talk about Leah.

She’s your best friend, your better half, the first person you think to tell anything to. But you still never talk about Leah.

You don’t talk about the fact that the two of you grew up together. Or that she prefers the crust cut off her plain ham sandwiches. Or how she stays up late just to call you even after playing a late night game away from home.

You never talk about Leah because no one knew who she was. To you, she’s the most amazing person you know, the only person you’ll ever give your heart to. To everyone else, she’s simply another nameless face on another football team.

And then the Euros happened.

The Euros happened, England won, and everyone started noticing Leah.

It’s hard at first. To watch your normally shy girlfriend have to shoulder the constant attention from both fans and media alike, to go from unknown to stopped every five seconds for a picture. Where Leah once held your hand while strolling on Sunday walks now became group outlettings lest you manage to secure an indoor date somewhere secluded.

Leah didn’t want you being dragged to national attention with her, and after watching the toll it took on her, you meekly agreed. While Leah became a professional footballer, you went to college, got a job, and now work a normal 9 to 5. Being famous for any reason, let alone dating someone famous, was something you never had an interest in.

So no, you don’t talk about Leah the footballer.

Leah the girlfriend however… you talk about her quite too much.

But your friends always let you gush your heart out about the girl who’s had your heart since you were teenagers.

It’s friends like these that you treasure. They never push too hard, understanding when you skirt around bringing your girlfriend out to public events with large crowds. A couple of them are newer to the group, friends from work, but still respectful all the same.

Some of you even formed a recreational futsal team, just something to do after work once a week. It’s fun, getting to use some of those football skills you’ve acquired through your childhood playing on youth teams.

Today’s one of those days. After wrapping up the last of your paperwork, you all pile into a car and make your way to the community center.

The first half goes by quickly, not really memorable in any way.

You’re taking a quick water break during half-time when one of your friends suddenly stiffens.

“Holy shit.”

You look up to see her eyes widen at a spot over your shoulder.

“What?” you ask, alarmed, trying to see what she’s looking at. But two hands on your shoulder stops you quickly, jerking you right back to face her.

“Don’t look, but I think a couple of the Lionesses are sitting in the bleachers, watching our game.”

You almost trip ripping yourself out of her grip, doing the exact opposite of what she just said.

Sure enough, you can spot the Three Best Friends huddled near the back of the bleachers, baseball caps and hoodies on as if that combo would actually help someone go incognito.

Almost as if she can feel your gaze, Leah’s face brightens, resting scowl turning into a grin as she waves at you. Before you can so much as react, a hand on your arm spins you back around.

“Oh my god, what are we going to do? I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of the Leah Williamson, Keira Walsh, and Georgia Stanway!”

You snort, gently shaking her hands off. “First off, it’s just rec futsal. If we lose it’s nothing that life ending. Also, we can always blame it on the court if we play poorly.”

She doesn’t look convinced, but the whistle from the ref calls before you can convince her some more.

Taking your spot on the court again, you can’t help but feel a bit giddy. With the constant attention and numerous commitments clogging up your girlfriend’s schedule, it’s been a while since Leah’s come to one of your games.

And so what if you end up showing off a little bit? Your girlfriend is here watching and you’re only human.

By the time the game ends, your team is up by six, four scored by you.

“God damn, we should try to invite the Lionesses out every week if you’re going to ball out like that when they’re here,” Riley jokingly complains, laughing when you shove her back playfully.

“Speaking of the Lionesses…”

Spinning around you see your girlfriend and her friends starting their descent down to the court. You skip to meet them halfway, ignoring the awestruck looks coming from all around.

Leah gives you a quick hug before pulling back, mindful of prying eyes.

“Leah! What are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to surprise my girl,” she mumbles, cheeks burning bright red as she instinctively pulls her cap down tighter on her head. “That’s okay right? I just haven’t seen you play live in a while and I--”

“Of course it’s fine.” Your cheeks are starting to hurt a bit by how wide you’re smiling.

You turn quickly to her two friends by her side.

“Happy to see you guys too! Thanks for coming out.”

Georgia and Keira exchange devilish grins before each throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“We would’ve come out to a match sooner if lovergirl over here hadn’t gatekeeped when your games were.”

Keira nods dramatically. “It was like pulling teeth with this one, trying to convince her to let us tag along today. You’d almost think she wanted us to forget she had a girlfriend.”

Leah rolls her eyes at the accusations. “A). I wasn’t gatekeeping. B). It was like pulling teeth today --- you wouldn’t give me a moment of peace until I agreed. And C). If I wanted you to forget I had a girlfriend, we wouldn’t be here having this conversation.”

“Pshh, as if you could make us forget our favorite Milton Keynes native. We’d choose her in the divorce,” Georgia quips, ignoring the eyebrow Leah raises her way.

Before the three of them can get in a shoving match, you suddenly remember your friends that you’ve left behind.

“Wait, let me introduce you guys to my teammates.”

Your friends look shell-shocked, eyes darting between you and the little posse of professional footballers you’ve amassed around you when you return.

“Guys, this is my girlfriend Leah and her two friends.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence. Then a whispered, “why are you introducing three Lionesses to us as if you have dinner together on the regular?” Riley honestly looks like she’s about to pass out, but you decide to humor her a bit.

“Because I do? Keira and G come down sometimes during breaks, and I do live with Leah. So…”

Your explanation seems pretty straightforward to you, but if anything, it only makes things more confusing for your friends.

They exchange looks with each other before Riley cautiously asks, “You were being serious about that?”

It’s your turn to be confused, face scrunching up. “What do you mean?”

“Well you kept talking about your mysterious girlfriend Leah without ever introducing us to her…”

“Or showing us a picture,” another voice adds on, trying to be helpful.

“We just kinda assumed Leah wasn’t real,” Riley finishes off lamely.

You roll your eyes, elbowing your girlfriend when you feel Leah snort next to you.

She recovers quickly, giving your friends a smile. “Well rest assured, the girlfriend is very much real. It’s nice to meet you guys, I’m Leah.”

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #Ace writes

709 notes · View notes

thinemoonshine · 5 months ago

Text

༄LECHE OF THE SIRENS.ೃ࿔*

corrupt!enhypen ot7 x siren!reader warning(s): the boys being downright disgusting, reverse harem, mature themes, obsessive and possessive behaviours, (y/n) is manipulative and puts them in their place, unconventional 'love' type: mini series word count: 10.4k

seven nobles who are corrupt meets a girl akin to a celestial being. little do they know, that the maiden is anything but—as she is the bane to all abominable man, a siren.

𝓟𝓐𝓡𝓣 1

𝒮unghoon scoffs incredulously at his friend, Jongseong’s, decision to sneak into the prostitute house through the back door. “Don’t tell me you’re still playing the role of the refined, virtuous young lord?”

Jongseong clicks his tongue with a frown as he turns his face away from his deprecating friend. “I have to. If I wish to be the head of my house, I have to maintain a polished reputation. My father sees to it that I will.”

The young can only roll his eyes though a ghost of a smirk plays on his lips. “Oh, and you’re doing a very good job with that, aren’t you?”

“How is it that you’ve managed to keep your wickedness hidden?” Jaeyun asks with an arch of his brow.

“Because I’m smart,” Jongseong shamelessly confesses as he faces them once more. “I only use those with either nothing to gain…or everything to lose if they were to be acquainted with me—that includes the ladies.”

The other five of his friends, excluding Riki and Sunoo who seem to be disinterested in their venereal subjects, only stay silent at the side—arms crossed and deadpanned.

“Well then, the three of us will proudly enter through the main door while you have to sneak around like a little rat for daddy,” Heeseung mocks to which Jongseong frowns at but he tells no falsity.

He then turns to the youngest three with hands in his pockets. “What about you lot?”

Riki wraps an arm around Jungwon’s shoulders with a playful smirk. “We plan to watch them dance. They have a performance tonight.”

“And we’ve gotten the VIP tickets,” Won adds and pulls out two slips making Seong knit his brows.

“Only two?”

Sunoo raises a hand. “I’m staying out. The aromas they they use are headache inducing.”

“Suit yourself,” the oldest of the bunch says casually with a shrug before they all haughtily enter the establishment in the red district.

The lone member sigh watches them disappear before he retreats to the lively booths that line the roads. Various savoury smells and appetizing images of food bring delight—rekindling his spirit for fun. He’s always been fond of all types of delicacies.

“What would you like, young man?” The vendor asks Sunoo who so conspicuously eyes the food at his stall with stars in his eyes.

The customer grins happily, ear-to-ear before he speaks. “All of it!”

—

“I’ve eaten too much, ugh,” Sunoo groans and pats on the waistband of his high-waisted trousers that make his every move uncomfortable. Even breathing is distasteful with each inhale causing his slight bloated abdomen to strain against the band.

As he walks at the side of the now much serene and isolated street as it’s nearer the exit of the district, he halts in his steps at the sigh of a maiden standing near the shore of the sea.

She’s clothed in a ragged dress with the hems either disintegrated or chewed away by ants and its colour has faded to the point where one can’t exactly discern its original hue—whether grey or brown or beige or even white.

Furthermore, she lacks shoes—standing with her feet bare against the sand as she blankly stares at the water that rolls towards her toes but not close enough to touch.

Sunoo scowls, disturbed and mainly disgruntled by seeing an obtrusively nameless, untitled woman who so clearly does not belong in the festive and enchanting district. He’s about to turn away but the maiden does so first—meeting his glare that instantly softens to be filled with astonishment.

He’s awestruck.

The beauty the lass beholds is unlike any other. With eyes as clear and scintillating as the full moon yet deep and secretive like the depth of the seas, dewy skin that shimmers beneath the light, cheeks that bloom radiantly with life and lips pulled to the loveliest smile that the young noble has ever seen—she is mesmerizing.

So bewitching that it enthralls him—his every senses—to the point that he believes that she might not be human.

And for someone renowned as one of the most irresistible and pursued men of the time, that statement holds no exaggeration.

“What a beaut!” A man suddenly comes by with his friend. The two are dressed in fine suits and adorned with ostentatious accessories, displaying their wealth and rank in the social class yet their behaviour juxtaposes them.

Their faces are flushed and hair all tousled, clearly blotto.

“Which company are you from, huh?” The man hiccups as he approaches the mysterious girl who’s now focused on the pair. “Pretty girl like you wearing crappy clothes like this in this place can only mean two things.”

She remains still and silent with head lifted to look up at the taller man looming over her.

“One, you ran away. Two, you got thrown out because you’re not ‘performing’ well. Not…satisfying enough,” he continues with a drunken chuckle while his friend snickers.

The first sound emits from the girl when the latter roughly grasps her jaw in his hand, causing her to gasp. He hums as his eyes narrowed onto her. “DANG! With this typa face, tho! You’re too precious to he thrown! You ran away, huh?”

She takes a step back.

“No, no, don’t you dare run,” the man growls and now grapples her by the shoulder with his free hand. His face expresses displeasure but it soon shifts to a mischievous grin. “Why don’t we find out ourselves, hm? If there really is something wrong with ya.”

His hand unlatches from her jaw to travel down her neck to her collarbones and Sunoo, the only witness to the whole scene, turns on his heels to walk away.

‘She’s ravishing, but she’s still a shameful, used woman with nothing to her name,’ he thinks vainly and begins to step away. ‘Whatever happens is not my responsibility—and none will care either way.’

He begins his stroll but is compelled to turn once more at the sound of a painful grunt and he’s met with the view of the young woman biting the hand of her assaulter that rests on her shoulder before she kicks the other in his shin.

And with another swift motion, she retrieves an auger shell from the sand below them before slashing its sharp tip against their faces—almost stabbing one of them in the eye which leads to him stumbling backwards and crashing onto his arse.

“YOU WHXRE!!” The one on his feet roars with pure wrath and the gaze in his bloodshot eyes is baneful. He plans to end the girl right where she stands.

But just as many times before, she stays mute and skillfully dodges him with a mere bend to the side—his drunken self too wobbly to move as agile as he wishes. And right when his back faces her from his reckless offense, she stabs the shell into the flesh of his back without a single blink. Once, twice—and thrice.

His wail of pain cuts through the tranquility of the night as he falls onto his palms and knees into the water. Blood flows rapidly from his three wounds despite them being quite tiny. She dug them deep enough.

“Take him with you,” is all the girl says to the one trembling with fright and thus, forced to sobriety—his face blanched and the centre front of his trousers carrying a warm, dark patch.

He pathetically crawls to his injured friend and carries him onto his back before hasting away like a scurrying rodent.

She who remains behind observes as they further away before dropping the bloody shell and inhaling, exhaling, as if to calm herself—ignoring the second presence who stares her from afar with wonder in his widened eyes and cheeks in a faint rosy tint.

He already found her entrancing enough by a mere glance, but now, seeing what she’s capable of, seeing how a true gem she is, he’s utterly spellbound. And he truly must be because he’s completely unaware of her approach until she stands before him with an arm’s length between them.

“Why did you not aid me?” She queries and the sound of her voice tickles his ears, causing his hair to rise and his insides tingle with a rush of sparks he’s never felt before. “Why leave?”

Sunoo looks down at her as his breaths slow, the adrenaline that courses through him from just watching her beginning to calm. “…There was no reason for me to help. You are an insignificant stranger and neither did saving you will benefit me in any way.”

“How cruel,” she says yet, those words hold no criticism or any sort of sentiment. It’s simply a statement, an observation and still, the softness and tune of her voice in which she uses to speak—a most subtle raise in pitch at the end—makes it seem as if she’s…amused. “It’s a shame you think of me in such way when I think of you so highly.”

The other maintains his position as she takes a small step forward. “What do you mean?”

“I was hoping to gain your attention. I’ve been seeing you since before, Sunoo,” she continues and her knowledge of his name befuddles him. He should be interrogating her, demand answers as to how she knows of his identity however, the fact that she seems to be interested in him outweighs any other thought.

His face mantles and long pretty lashes framing his foxy eyes flutter at his flustered rapid blinking. “Y-you have?”

She nods her head and he’s never seen someone conduct a simple action so gracefully, especially so with that sweet smile that resides on her face. “I think you’re a very noble man, Sunoo. To leave your friends as they fall victim to their insatiable desires… You are different.”

Sunoo is uncertain what it is about her words, but they always squeeze his heart as butterflies emerge in his stomach. And those gorgeous eyes…the bat of her lashes as she looks up at him, the unwavering tenderness in her gaze and undivided attention—it’s unalike any of the many, many he’s received in his life.

He wants more. He wants her. And if acting as a righteous, refined young lord is what it takes to ensnare her, he can play the role for as much as he needs to.

“It must be cold, isn’t it—to wear such a thin dress in this night breeze?” He begins and wears a beguiling smile that never fails to swoon those around him. “If you don’t mind, would you allow me to gift you with a few warm coats and dresses?”

The maiden shakes her head as she turns away. “It is fine. There is no place for me to put them, anyways.”

At this, the noble’s brows raise. “Do you…not have a place to stay?”

Her silence confirms his suspicion and as vile as it is, a sense of relief and delight fill him. An opportunity strikes.

Suppressing the urge to let his smile tilt to a cunning smirk, she asks the girl.

“Then, would you like to stay in my residence for the time being? There are plenty of rooms to offer and I would not mind the company…if you will have me.”

The other lifts her head to him and the expression on her face already tells him of her decision—widening his grin.

—

“He ditched us without a single notice and now he’s disappeared for a whole 2 weeks cooped up in his home?? That’s awfully suspicious, wouldn’t you think so?” Jongseomg clicks his tongue harshly, both annoyed and worried for one of their youngest as he stomps up the former’s grand staircase.

Being friends with one another has its perks, one of them being that they don’t require to send letters to inform them of their visits—their doors always open to each other.

“Maybe he’s been occupied with all his lessons? He told me he’s been slacking,” Jaeyun tries to assuage the older’s frustration but his only response is ignorance.

Five figures trail behind him and their paces fasten when they reach Sunoo’s floor. Their soles brushing against the squeaky clean tiles create rushed, dissonant shuffles and footsteps.

But before they can venture further down the corridor to his room, they’re forced to a halt at an unfamiliar sight—or to be exact, an unfamiliar person.

Slipping out of her room is a girl accoutred in a silk white dress that shimmers softly at every sway, its fabric hugging her chest, following the shape of her bosom down to her waist while its long skirt flows down in freely—allowing for as much stretch of her legs as she wishes.

Butterfly sleeves hide a majority of her upper arms with a sheer fabric layering the silk, creating a more sophisticated and elegant form. Her further adornments consist of a snowy gold bustier corset top to accentuate her frame while the frills that are sewn onto its upper edge give the illusion of being a part of the butterfly sleeves—making it seem as if she’s wearing an off-shoulder dress.

Her ensemble is an immaculate combination of extravagance and yet gracefulness. Whoever made it is surely an exquisite tailor.

Although, the 6 young men would know nothing about it considering they’re not able to dwell on her dress as they’re too busy gawking at the ethereal damsel that stands before them. They’ve seen many women before—some even doing more than seeing—and yet, they’re confident to declare that they’ve never seen one quite like her.

She’s breathtaking in a way where it’s inhuman. As if she’s an extraterrestrial being—or a creature of myth that tends to lure unprotected, vulnerable men like they are at the moment just to bring them to their demise.

A lethal beauty.

Unlike them however, (y/n) merely shifts her glance between them just to identify. Not once does her eyes widen and sparkle nor do her cheeks flush from the fluster of meeting such unrealistically gorgeous young men who can instantly bring anyone—and anything—below their feet.

“(y/n), why did you—Oh,” Sunoo sounds—tone shifting from curious to blunt indifference.

His presence that exits from the same chamber (y/n) emerged from instantly rouse suspicion and intrigue in his friends.

Jaeyun scoffs. “So, this is what this was all about? You’ve found yourself a woman and decide that you’d rot in your mansion with her—neglecting your own friends?”

Sunoo frowns as he shields (y/n) from their prying, scrutinizing eyes. He was never one to really care about their reprimands. “Neglect? It’s not like you’re all under my care. I’m not your parent who needs to coddle you.”

“Kim Sunoo, you know that isn’t what we mean,” Heeseung rebukes, a sharp and fierce glare on his otherwise doe eyes. “You vanished for 2 weeks with not a single word!”

“Do I need to inform you of my activities?” The younger hisses with his own eyes whetting and things would have escalated from the fire growing in the two if it isn’t for (y/n) placing a hand against her host’s arm.

His glower softens almost immediately as he shifts his focus onto the girl—his instant sickening his friends.

(y/n)’s voice is gentle, airy like the morning breeze as well as clear and alluring like the glistens of the water surface from the shining moonlight—charming one to stay and watch the waters glitter.

Or in terms of voice, seducing one to not just remain and hear but listen—just as how they all fall into an unanimous quiet.

“Should I leave?" She asks, shocking Sunoo terribly as dread fills him. The idea itself is horrifying. "It seems I might have overstayed my welcome."

Sunoo shakes his head vigorously. "No, no! Don't leave! I—They are just being rude, they know nothing."

His frantic behaviour that drips with desperation is both amusing and astonishing to his friends who have never seen him act so...pathetic before. He's always been the embodiment of sophistication, of grace to the point that it's boastful at times.

(y/n) looks up at him nervously, her brows tilted with worry. "But—"

"(y/n)," her host cuts her off as he cups her cheek, thumb caressing her skin tenderly. "Don't fret, hm? This is all just a small argument between my friends and I. Why don't you go back in and practice the new piece I taught you?"

Seeing no reason to refute, the girl nods and returns to the room she exited from with quiet nimble footsteps.

Sunoo's gaze that was warm and endearing turns frigid and stern the moment she disappears and he turns his head to his friends. "I'm not going to entertain this useless bicker between us so I suggest we digress. Leave, stay, I don't care what you do as long as you don't disturb us again. (y/n) is my guest and she will remain here for as long I will her and none of you are to defy that."

With one last warning glare, he turns away to join (y/n) whose melodious play can be hear from the momentary opening of the door before Sunoo slams it shut.

A deafening silence overtakes until Jaeyun clears his throat.

"You heard what he said so who's up for an impromptu sleepover?" He suggests with a playful, wide grin as he wiggles his dark brows at the others.

—

It's so fun being powerful. They can make anything happen with a flick of the wrist or a snap of their fingers. With just a simple order from them, those around them easily oblige—eager to execute every command. Just how they need not to lift a finger while their servants back home are panicked—rushing to pack clothes and other necessities for their young masters who so suddenly sent a letter informing them of their plans of staying at Master Sunoo's abode.

Jongseong scoffs as he recalls his maids and butlers running from the gates the moment their carriage arrived and pretending to be all calm and collected as they stood in front of him—as if their skin wasn't glistening with sweat and breaths weren't heavy as they pant.

Knock, knock!

He furrows at the abrupt interruption of his reminiscence and sits up on the bed to face the door. "Who is it?"

"It's (y/n)," the entrancing voice from before promptly straightens his posture as he springs onto his feet.

Clearing his throat and neatening his shirt while approaching the door, he abruptly halts at the ridiculousness of his own behaviour. Why is he trying to impress a poor, insignificant girl anyways? He already heard the talk from the servants on how Sunoo randomly brought her home while she was still in her rags and completely barefoot.

"What is it?" He utters with a heavy sigh as soon as he opens the door.

"Would you like some tea? I made it myself," (y/n) asks with a hopeful mien, eyes sparkling and lips in a small smile.

The other cocks up a brow skeptically. "You know how to brew tea?"

"I watched," she answers, deepening his skepticism.

Another long, unamused sigh leaves him. "Just get in."

She enters cheerily and sets down the tray on his little tea table while watches behind with arms crossed and gaze sharp.

“I thought it would be a nice welcome. Sunoo taught me that it’s good etiquette,” (y/n) says as she pours him a cup of warm tea with calculated, precise movements—shocking him, to be honest—and placing it down in front of him without a single tremor. “I hope you find it to your liking.”

Jongseong scoffs at his futile wish. He’s one of the most picky when it comes to his meals—always thinking none of is good enough and that includes how he enjoys his tea.

He had to personally teach his servants how to brew and how much sugar to be used to actually make one fitting his palate and even then, they still can’t satisfy him.

After a few gentle blows to cool down the hot drink, he brings the brim of the cup to his lips for his first sip and once again, receives another surprise. It’s…splendid. Such aroma and perfect balance between tea and sugar that spreads perfectly on his tongue and warming him from the inside—akin to sitting in front of the hearth during winter.

He lifts his gaze to meet with (y/n)’s as he lags to utter the words in his head—all of them jumbled from both disbelief and yet, amazement. “How did you make this? It’s exactly as how I prefer it to be.”

“I…um, I actually asked your servant beforehand on how you typically enjoy your tea,” (y/n) timidly answers as she stares at her fiddling fingers on her lap. “I apologize for not asking you myself and instead, intruding on your privacy.”

Strangely, he doesn’t mind very much although usually he would find it offensive that someone is investigating him through his servants. Instead, he finishes the rest of his tea before passing to her on its small plate. “Pour me some more.”

His request rekindles a discernible light onto her face as she physically perks up—eyes upturning and corners of her lips curling as she obliges. And Jongseong can’t help but admit that she looks…adorable.

For him to be able to control her mood with a few words or actions, he finds it amusing and truly lovable—so much so that he doesn’t notice how much time has passed with her sharing her experience living at the mansion while he merely sits and listen with a gentle smile retained on her face.

Only when the room darkens to the point the cups in front of them are almost unseen and their faces are shadowed does he finally, take note of the time.

“Oh! I’ve taken too much of your time. I should leave now,” (y/n) exclaims with alarm as she rushes to her feet while collecting all their cups and biscuits back onto the silver tray. With hands on her stomach, she then bows at Jongseong respectfully, bidding him goodbye before she lifts the tray and out she goes.

The lone man remains in his room as his servant enters to light the candles and lamps before leaving him to his own devices.

As much as he enjoys the silence, he never knew how lonely it can be…until today.

Strolling through the corridor is (y/n) who’s reminiscing her conversation with her guest before and a smile stretches itself onto her face. A glint sparks in her eye and a passing Sunghoon espies the ambiguous expression she wears but she disappears down the stairs quickly, ridding him of the opportunity to observe more.

His luxuriant dark brows knit in wonder as he returns to his room.

—

The next day is just like any other for (y/n)—awaking at the sounds of cheery chirping birds, freshening up with the help of her designated servants and getting dressed with the outfit of her choice before she leaves to have her daily etiquette lesson with Sunoo.

One might think she’s the lady of the house from the way she’s treated by the staff and to even be privately tutored by the young master himself—that’s the grandest, most gracious gesture he’s ever done for anyone at all.

But to think she’s only a nobody picked up from the street, it’s a cultural shock to others.

“Good morning, Sunoo,” (y/n) greets Sunoo who’s already waiting for her on the windowsill as he stares at the sunny view outside. “Will we pick up from yesterday’s lesson?”

The noble lad turns to her, his eyes already scintillating with adoration as he approaches her with long, calculated steps. “How about we take a break today? The day is beautiful outside.”

His suggestion excites the other who nods vigorously and he giggles with contentment—hand reaching up to fix her hair and trailing his fingers to the side of her face to warmly press his palm against it.

Electrifying tingles bloom in his chest when she reciprocates his affection by leaning against his hand, her eyes shutting briefly before they open to look up at him.

Sunoo feels his breath hitch. She always does this to him. Every single time. He initiates the intimacy and yet at the end he’s the one breathless and desperate for more, craving for her touch and wanting her to want him just as he does to her.

“I’ll tell the servants to prepare you favourite pastries and tea. Wait for me in the garden veranda, hm?”

She nods and he reluctantly slips his hand away, leaving him feeling cold and bare as he yearns for her warmth and comfort once more.

(y/n) casually makes her way to the garden, humming one of the sweet melodies Sunoo taught her to play on the piano as she ambles.

An air of peace and joy encompasses her, disregarding the predatory eyes that ominously tracks her every move from behind a tall bush. His hand rests on the side of the prickly leaves as he stalks the naive prey.

His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip as a sardonic smirk reveals itself when he sees her stop at the veranda–taking his first step towards her.

“I thought you had lessons,” Heeseung begins and the girl spins on her heels.

Her brows twitch upwards subtly at his unexpected presence. “Yes, I was supposed to. But Sunoo thought it was better to enjoy the sunny weather today.”

“‘Sunoo?’” The male repeats, intrigued by the fact that she’s on a first-name basis with the oh, so majestic Kim Sunoo. He scoffs—though, not of demeaning nature. “I see you address him using casual terms. Will it be improper of me to ask you to do the same for me?”

(y/n) tilts her head, puzzled and he continues.

“Lee Heeseung, that is my name. But you will just call me Heeseung.”

Her lips form an ‘o’ in understanding before she beams brightly—fingers pinching the sides of her skirt to slightly lift them up and perform a curtsy. “It is a pleasure to know you, Heeseung. My name is (y/n).”

“Just (y/n)? No family name?” Heeseung furrows. He knows her origins are obscure but he expected her to at least, be aware of the name of her kin. However, the nod of her head answers his curiosity. And somehow…he favours her even more because of it. “I’ve been told on how Sunoo found you near the edge of the red district unaccompanied and lost. It must have been terrifying.”

The girl’s gaze travels down to her shoes before back up at him, unsure of what to say. “Well…”

Heeseung translates her uncertainty as meekness however—a sign of vulnerability—and he’s more than glad to be the pillar of her strength if it meant she’ll lean onto him. “You can tell me anything, (y/n). I’ll be there whenever you need someone to talk to.”

His hands gather hers before he clasps them together, swallowing them completely and a shaky breath escapes him at the sight. With eyes swirling with ambition, he looks into hers with feign empathy—doe eyes feigning innocence and goodwill as he closes the distance between them.

“Will you let me? (y/n)?” He ask—no, pleads, almost as he continues his pretense of a selfless hero. He lowers himself to a slight extent as to not intimidate her by looming over her completely though, it fives not much of a difference. His frame still shadows away the sun from her anyways, leaving her with dim lighting as she’s nearly caged by him.

The maiden smiles softly before nodding although remaining quiet and Heeseung immediately lets out a breath of relief. For a moment there, her stillness seemed to suggest rejection but she must have merely been nervous.

“Why are you acting so benevolent suddenly?”

Her question takes him aback and he stammers, “P-pardon?”

His gaze falls from her face to their hands when she slowly slips hers out to rest them onto his larger ones—thumb softly drawing circles onto his skin which brings desirable shivers down his spine.

“I know how you are. I’ve seen you. Committing all those criminal acts, indulging yourself in dirty riches and greedy gambles as you find pleasure in women that you deem worthless thus, undeserving of any care or compassion—and neither do you give any compensation for those that you’ve treated with injustice,” (y/n) speaks with an eloquence that leaves no room for debate. She isn’t just reiterating all those rumours she might have heard but she is fully cognizant of every word she speaks, of every allegation that they are nothing but truths.

Heeseung is struck by a turmoil of emotions: displeased and offended by her unvarnished tongue yet at the same time wonderstruck by her character that completely goes against his initial impression.

“You…! I thought you were of low origins? You should not be aware of anything regarding the aristocracy!” Heeseung hisses as he snatches his hands back in attempt to conceal his disconcerted demeanor.

But (y/n) retains her sangfroid as she lets her arms relax onto her sides. With a pretty smile gracing her pretty face, her lips part to speak pretty, pretty words.

“If your genteel veneer is merely a pathetic attempt to lure me, then I’d very much prefer it if you were to bare your teeth and spit your venom into my tea,” she says in a whispery tune, just enough for both him and her to hear. She then lifts her hand up to trail her feathery touches down from his neck to his chest—paralyzing him as he shudders with unashamed titillation.

His eyelids fluttering and breath hitching as she smirks deviously, an image even Sunoo has yet to be graced with.

A kittenish giggle escapes her and the sound of it ignites him—hair rising and pants tightening especially when she pulls him down by the nape to whisper.

“Because at least then, you might have the chance to ensnare me with your sincere wickedness rather than your feeble, futile attempt to be a saint,” she snaps and he groans at the feel of her lips lightly grazing the shell of his ear before she pushes him away. “Sunoo will be here soon. I suggest you leave.”

Poor Heeseung’s head is much too dazed and fogged to respond as he drunkenly drags himself away with a painful throb in his lower region and skin flushed red as he replays his moment with her again and again in his head.

(y/n) is a pretty woman, the most gorgeous he has ever laid eyes upon—but she is as lethal as she is beautiful. And what unraveled just minutes ago shows him that she is so much more capable than what she seems. This is mere child’s play.

And he wants to know everything about her.

—

“But young master, this amount may be overwhelming for the villagers. Some of them may not be able to afford this,” Yoo, Sunoo’s aide, voices his concerns after receiving the list of demands from the noble.

Nevertheless, Sunoo remains quiet as his eyes sharpen at the sheet he vigorously writes on—burning the letters with his fervent glare. “They live and conduct their business on our property thus, it’s only fair that they should comply with our rules and commands.”

“However, this is too sudden! Would it not be best for you to grant them a period of time to prepare their payment?”

“Father has instructed me to collect a certain amount during his leave and although I do admit that I have been negligent in fulfilling his wishes, it is justified as I have more priorities to tend to.”

The aide bites his tongue from blurting out a name at his master’s mention of ‘priorities.’ Clearly, his priorities are—is, actually, (y/n) alone.

From tutoring her personally to spoiling her with endless jewels and clothing—even calling over one of the most renowned tailor in town—and spending his day and nights with her behind closed door doing what ever it is they are doing.

Yoo doesn’t blame (y/n), of course. If anything, he thinks she has been one of the sweetest characters he has ever been graced with. However, he can’t deny that she is a great distraction to his master.

“Young master Sunoo—” He attempts to begin another argument.

“Aide Yoo,” Sunoo abruptly interrupts with his voice only slightly raised but the lowness of its pitch that’s inordinate for one who’s typically said to be akin sunshine causes the other to tremble. He gulps as his face blanches with fright.

The noble gently puts his quill down but his following acts are anything but—with a gaze so banefully intent that threatens to almost kill, he perturbs the assistant. “It seems you are mistaken. I’ve passed that document to you not to hear your thoughts but for you to simply relay it to the village. What is so difficult for you to comprehend?”

“I-I was only trying to help, my lord.”

“Well, it’s futile and in all honesty, irritating. Now leave for (y/n) will be arriving soon—and by then, no one is permitted to enter my study,” Sunoo commands with a hiss to which the aide instantly bows at before scurrying out.

He shuts the door behind him as quiet as possible but nearly screams his lungs out at the sight of (y/n) who’s standing by the entrance. “(y-y/n), Master Sunoo is waiting for you.”

With another small bend at the waist, Yoo dashes away to promptly finish his assignment and the girl slips into the chamber.

Seeing her is like a breath of fresh air for Sunoo and he instantly rises to his feet before rushing to the maiden—seizing her into his arms and laying his head against her crown.

“(y/n), my lovely (y/n)…” He mumbles and the other says nothing, only patting his back in a slow, calming rhythm—its sensation quietening the loud noises in his stressful mind. “Come.”

She follows obediently, letting herself be lead to the couches before he sits them both down. After straightening her gown for her, Sunoo coils his arms below her waist and lays his head against his chest—listening to her heartbeat as if it’s a lullaby.

A small smile graces his face as his breaths slow to relax.

(y/n) gazes down at him momentarily, trailing down his features and tracing their shapes before turning her head to his overfilled desk with its surface covered in sheets after sheets of documents. He’s slacked far too much to spend his time with (y/n).

And the knowledge of that brings a content smile to her face. She has him right where she wants him.

“Busy?” She asks quietly, almost in a whisper to not interrupt the tranquility that encases them.

Sunoo nods, bottom lip sticking out unconsciously at the reminder of his despair. “Father is returning in two weeks. I have many works to settle before then.”

(y/n) hums in acknowledgment as her fingers begin to comb through his dark brown locks, causing pleasurable tugs onto his scalp and he almost purrs in delight—nuzzling more against her bosom as he raises slightly to feel more of her touch. “My poor Sunoo.”

A love arrow straight to his heart.

She’s accepted him. She’s regarded him as hers. It was always him to express his affections, him to initiate the meetings and now, she’s finally welcomed him into her world. Oh, how blessed does he feel. Suddenly, all that pile of work on his desk doesn’t seem so daunting—his being now buzzing with bliss.

And (y/n) certainly knows that. From the way his smile widens, apple of his cheeks glow in a rosy hue and eyes visibly upturned even while shut, he’s overjoyed. Using her other hand, she begins to outline the features of his soft, angelic visage, mourning at the fact that he’s not as sweet as he looks. Still, she’s grown quite attached.

“(y/n),” he calls suddenly. She hums in response, urging him to continue. “What am I to you?”

It’s this question. It’s not frequent but some of her previous victims have too, inquired her the same and with each, she answers differently. An answer she knows has to be believable, not too exaggerated but not too humble and yet impactful enough to occupy his head and ring in his ears—hypnotizing them to believe her fondness of them is sincere.

And for Sunoo, it’s simply too easy.

“You’re my saviour,” she purrs and the allure of her voice upends the hair on his skin and his body quivers ever so slightly as eyes flutter open with surprise and yet, admiration. The pounding of his heart only heightens at the sight of her already looking at him with the most endearing smile cast on her lovely countenance—eyes swirling with an ambiguity but nevertheless, warmth for him.

His own stare softens, melting into hers as they search her face for any hint of falsity—rejoicing internally upon seeing none and his body lifts to place his plush lips on hers for the briefest of moments.

And yet that single second felt like heaven to him.

The feel of her bare skin against his mouth ignites a desire in him he never knew he had, overtaking his senses and ridding him of every thought—the heavy longing for her growing with every breath wasted not having her and it festers inside him, eating away so quickly he feels he might shrivel and perish.

But he can’t yield to it—not now. He might scare (y/n) away, especially after her confessing her heart, professing to him of her trust and devotion by calling him her hero, her knight in shining armor. He might ruin his chances before he even completely captures her heart.

He titters at the surprise painted on the girl’s face and he lifts his hand to caress her cheek with the gentlest of touches. “And I shall be for as long as you wish.”

—

“The fish tell me you’re an exquisite skater.”

Sunghoon’s brows knit as he turns to face the owner of the lulling—yet, with a touch of mischief—voice. “The fish?”

She nods and directs her gaze to the large man-made pond at which he crouches beside. “They tell me you tend to skate here when the water freezes over as you find yours at your own home not as freeing.”

The noble readies to stand but decides against it when the girl joins his side—mindless of the ends of her dress that drape onto the grass as she gazes longingly at the water. “Is that so? What else do these fish tell you?”

(y/n) smiles, as if amused that he seeks to know more despite the ridiculousness of her statements. As an underwater creature, it is a norm for her to speak to marine life but the same can’t be said for a creature of land. “That you possess an extravagant beauty among your kind.”

At this, a corner of his lips twitch to a smirk of intrigue. “And? What do you say?”

Her stare shifts to the man’s reflection cast onto the still water’s surface. “I wouldn’t say I’m against it.”

Her indirect yet direct admission of his beauty makes his smirk widen into a grin and he too, turns to look at the pond.

‘What a shame. A beautiful woman and yet, disturbed by her own insanity,’ he thinks and exhales through his nose. But the smile on his face doesn’t falter. ‘Well, she isn’t completely useless.’

Of all the women Sunghoon has shared his bed with, none are comparable to the woman who now sits a mere forearm’s length away from him. If he plays things right, he might be able to have her tonight.

“So you think I’m handsome?” He asks boldly and (y/n) nods but still keeps her attention to the small fish swimming. “Then, why don’t you look at me?”

His question prompts her to do exactly that—to look at him—and she’s abruptly met with his deep gaze boring into hers. He smiles at her obedience. “Tell me, what you like about me.”

For a moment, a silence encases the two with the exception of the occasional chirps of birds and faint rustles of the flora dancing into one another with the help of the wind.

She's attentive towards him, eyes fixed on his face and although Sunghoon knows that she's only finding the answer to his question, he can't help but feel slightly abashed—tips of his ears turning red as his apple bobs in his throat from the fluster.

"You remind me of winter," (y/n) finally responds and he blinks, nearly missing her answer if it isn't for her tilting her head at the notice of his straying mind.

He clears his throat to gather his voice. "Are you a fan of the season?"

"I suppose. The cold and snow refreshes me in comparison to hot, drying summer," the girl explains briefly and once again turns away to look at the pond—making him frown.

The lack of attention from her is beginning to vex him. What's so interesting about a pond and its small swimming fish? Obviously, nothing much—especially with the Park Sunghoon existing in the same space. He's far more eye-catching and valuable than a pool of water.

He retains his composure however, knowing that he can't lose his head if he wants to succeed in his objective. "You must be good friends with the fish seeing as how you're so engrossed by them."

His comment earns him a soft chuckle and he'd be lying if he said the saccharine sound doesn't placate him. The twinkle in his eyes and fangs peeking from below his top lip as he smiles are telltale signs.

"You're so silly. I was more of looking at the water. My close fish friends are at sea anyways," she answers truthfully but Sunghoon believes it as another one of her crazy talk.

And in order to win her heart, he chooses to entertain them. "Must be lovely to have friends from so many places. I take it that they're very cordial?"

The girl nods and her face suddenly lights up as her figure perks. Sunghoon watches with puzzlement as she reaches into a seamlessly hidden pocket at the side of her dress before pulling out her fist and offering it to the noble.

One of the latter's dark, luxuriant brows arches with skepticism—that is, until she uncurls her fingers to reveal the three irregularly shaped pearls resting on her palm.

Even when they're not in perfect circles, they are still priceless and beautiful—white coats carrying a pearly sheen that shines at every light and the rawness of their forms create an exquisite uniqueness that Sunghoon has never seen on any other jewel. An inestimable grandeur.

"I received these from my friends but now that I see them, I feel that they would be in much better hands in yours," (y/n) claims as she gently places the three orbs onto his opened palm. Eyes upturned and smile bright, she looks at him with an apparent eagerness. "With such smooth porcelain skin, you seem to be a pearl yourself."

Sunghoon is unable to retort a witty remark, nor can he muster a scoff—captivated by the girl as he admires her limitless geniality. How can one be so unconditionally kind and sweet to a naive extent? To casually grant one with prized possessions simply because she thought they would look better on him. It's foolish—and yet, he finds it so foolishly lovable.

Stretching his lips to a smile, he's finally able to let out a small chuckle. "Are you sure your friends won't be upset with you by giving these to me?"

(y/n) shakes her head and stands—hands dusting her skirt and straightening it before she turns towards the mansion.

"How are you sure?" Sunghoon asks once more as he too, rises to his feet and now towering over the other.

The latter titters and brings her hands behind her back, clasping them together as she begins her amble. "Because I ate them."

It's like every single gear in his head has stopped and all senses numbed apart from his hearing as her voice—her answer echoes in his ears like an enchantment.

'She...ate them?' He mentally thinks and yet, instead of feeling horrified or even mildly perturbed, the hunger he's felt since before only grows—bubbling and boiling in his stomach up to his chest and throat as it urges him to just seize the defenseless girl in front of him.

To paint her skin with his tongue and relishing in her taste, coating every surface with his moisture before sinking his teeth and leaving conspicuous dents of his fangs as to mark her, warning any other who dares to approach. He craves to own her, to make her his and his alone and have her sing and scream his name so frequently that it becomes the only word she knows—to be the only one she recognizes.

Oh, how terribly starved he is for her.

"Are you not returning? The sky will darken soon," the girl asks as she twirls to him slightly—skirt swaying and hair flowing in the wind before she tucks it behind her ear to reveal her face. Her pure eyes staring curiously at him as she awaits his answer.

Sunghoon gulps, both mind and heart turning erratic as he struggles to remain composed and stoic despite his flawless performance throughout the years.

"Sunghoon?"

He throbs with need at the sound of her voice calling his name and his lashes flutter from his shaking lids, dazed and mesmerized by just a simple gesture from her before he nods his head with a stutter.

A gone man.

—

Jaeyun melts into (y/n)’s hands that play with his hair—braiding and twirling the dark locks with her fingers, delivering delicious, gentle tugs onto his crown—and his eyes are shut tight as he relishes in the feeling.

It all happened so quickly, unexpectedly, for him and (y/n) to become close. All it took was him loitering in the garden one afternoon from boredom and (y/n) inviting him to join her lone picnic. He accepted, seeing as he had nothing else worthwhile to do but he didn’t expect anything from the activity.

He thought it would be mediocre at best. After all, what else is there to do aside from sipping warm tea and munching on fresh fancy-filled sandwiches? And he can’t even do anything ‘exciting’ with (y/n) being so out in the open.

And yet, after a few minutes in, Jaeyun was filled with a sense of tranquility and comfort that he’s never felt before.

He was embraced by a warm sense of home and relaxation, one that entirely limps his body and empties his mind that makes him believe the respite he’s had all this time before are poor excuses. There’s just something about (y/n), something that makes him feel so casually free and blissful—even while doing nothing and just…reveling in each other’s presence.

Just like now.

“(y/n),” Jaeyun starts quietly as he leans his head against the pillow she put on her lap for his ease since he’s sitting on the carpeted floor and her on the couch. “How would you like to stay at my residence for some time?”

The girl’s motions freeze entirely and that one simple act instantly makes him straighten his back as eyes shoot open, alarmed and anxious.

“(y/n)?” He calls again, shaky, as he spins on his seat, looking up at her with eyes pleading for an answer to her abrupt change. What was it? Did his invitation offend her? Does she think that his offer is with salacious intent? It won’t be a surprise if she did. Did his reputation precede him and affected her view of him without him knowing?

The noise in his head quietens as she begins to speak.

“No, it’s nothing. It’s just…I don’t plan on leaving Sunoo, Jaeyun,” (y/n) softly declares as her fingers brush the fallen strands of his hair away from his eyes. His doe eyes blink up at her nervously as his brows raise and angle downwards at the end, an adorable expression for an atrocious man.

Jaeyun gently holds her hand just as it begins to retract. “But, why? It won’t be for long. Just for a brief, even a visit! You’ll love it there, I’m sure of it.”

“Sunoo won’t like that,” the girl rejects again with a soft shake of her head. “He’s my saviour, Jaeyun. He was the one who brought me to his home and cared for me. I’d hate to go against him in any way.”

For the first time in forever, Jaeyun loathes himself for having fun. If only he wasn’t so drunk and occupied with the pleasures of the red light district, he might’ve been the one to find her. He might’ve been the one to welcome her in his home and is able to covet her freely without fear or concern for anyone else.

Because then, he would be the one to own her. The one whom she’s tethered to, just as how she is with Sunoo.

He furrows, frustration imbuing.

“But recently, I have been a bit worried,” she says suddenly and this pulls the other’s attention back to her. “I overheard him last time discussing with his aide regarding the collection of tax. And I know, I know it’s for the greater good but…I can’t help wondering if his aide’s words run truer than I hope.”

“What do you mean?” Jaeyun asks, now fully focused as he sees an opportunity to cease her concern, to be her knight in shining armour. His hand squeezes hers assuringly, prompting her to spill the words in her head.

She sighs in defeat. “His aide said that the amount of tax might be too overwhelming for the people, but Sunoo said it was urgent and that nothing could be done.”

Jaeyun restrains from scoffing out loud. He knows that the only reason their host is rushing with the collection is because he had been slacking.

“I’m aware that there must be a reason why he’s putting such great pressure on the villagers but I fret,” (y/n) confesses and meets his eyes, making his heart skip a beat. “Do you think they’ll be alright?”

This is it. His moment.

He smiles and shifts to sit on his heels before clasping both her hands in his. His thumbs draw soothing circles below her knuckles. “If it may bring you some sort of comfort, we can go to the village.”

The rekindled sparks in her eyes bring him more joy than he ever thought they could and he unconsciously wears a grin as his tender gaze is transfixed on her.

“We can?”

‘No. To be honest, no. Not without Sunoo losing his marbles,’ he thinks but his smiling eyes say otherwise.

“Of course.”

—

CRASH!

“Where is she?? FIND HER!” Sunoo shrieks with unbridled wrath as he tightly grips (y/n)’s dress in his fist. Shards of white adorned with prettily painted flowers scatter the sparkling floor from the tea set he hurled towards the wall.

His aide flinches at his piercing scream and gathers his hands together in fear while maids hurry to clean the mess. “W-we’re trying our best, my lord.”

“Do her servants have no clue where she went?” Sunoo snaps as fox eyes sharpen more than they ever have and Yoo shakes his head vigorously. “I should’ve assigned her those guards but I didn’t as I was afraid she’d get uncomfortable. Foolish! Idiot!”

Yoo and the other staff around shudder violently, terrified of what their master will do. They have never seen him be so cross and upset—because he has never been this emotional before. But ever since (y/n) entered his life, they’ve seen many changes in their employer.

“Young lord! We’ve brought a servant who said he saw (y/n) before her disappearance!” A guard declares after performing a respectful bow and enters the chamber alongside his colleague with a shivering slim boy held tightly between them.

Sunoo’s glare shifts to the poor staff member and only then does Yoo feel like he can breathe—stumbling slightly as his abrupt inhale nearly knocks his balance.

“Speak,” the noble orders lowly and the worker gulps harshly.

“I-I saw her in the garden with M-Master Jaeyun. The two were unaccompanied which w-was odd but I thought they were merely enjoying a stroll so I…I said nothing.”

SMACK! THUD!

Gasps erupt from the other servants while hands fly to cover their mouth, taken aback. Widened eyes glance at the noble before they quickly avert them, horrified at the thought of the repercussions if they are caught.

The fallen boy remains ashamed and hurt on the ground while holding the stinging pain against his cheek from Sunoo’s abrasive slap.

“That accursed Jaeyun hyung…” He curses below his breath before turning around, a motion everyone is grateful for as they watch him sit on the missing girl’s bed. He stares at the expensive silk in his hand before running his other against the soft sheets of her mattress. His inordinately unfeeling gaze casts onto her pillow as he smiles at the imagery of her slumbering peacefully but it vanishes as quickly as it forms. “Go to the village. I have a feeling that they might be there…”

His orders are absolute—all necessary figures quickly departing to execute his demand while the servants hastily leave him to the comfort of his own presence, hoping he will simmer down.

Sunoo lays on her bed and buries himself underneath her blanket—basking in her scent and lingering warmth as he clutches her dress against his chest. His head turns into her fluffy, soft pillow and lets his lips brush against the cool fabric as a woeful whimper sounds.

He misses her. He wishes to see her. To touch her and embrace her and be graced with her presence, be spoiled in her unconditional affections. He yearns for her. He needs her.

He can’t live without her.

Knock, knock.

He doesn’t respond to the sound, expecting the visitor to take their leave so when the door swings open, he’s quick to recover to a sitting position as a glower forms.

“Who dare—Sunghoon hyung?” Confusion laces the younger’s tone as the said noble moseys into the room. “What’s so urgent for you to disrupt my private time?”

A scoff emits from the older as his thick, defined brow cocks up with intrigue. “Private time in (y/n)’s room? Seems scandalous, is it not?”

His mockery ticks him off and Sunoo stands, letting go of the girl’s dress in the process. “If you have nothing worthwhile to say, leave.”

Sunghoon raises his hands to his chest in surrender. “Calm. I was merely trying to lighten the mood.”

The younger’s silence and intensifying glare should be enough as a hint to leave and yet, he still chooses to stay.

“Please, the matter I am to discuss with you is regarding (y/n). I’m certain that you’d like to know.”

The other perks.

“I’ve noticed that she doesn’t seem to be quite…fortified in the head. There seems to be a few screws loose,” Sunghoon says slowly and the younger noble’s silence compels him to continue. “So I was going to suggest a proper facility for her to perhaps, fix her. A new institute has recently opened up near by home and I’ve heard of their excellent treatments—always proving to be effective and the staff are cordial and capable.”

Feeling proud of himself, Sunghoon grins brightly as he expectantly rubs his hands together behind his back. Of course, his ‘helpful’ suggestion is a mere excuse. After Sunoo drops her off to the institute, Sunghoon will only collect her and have her stay in his abode—to be his once and for all.

Sunoo isn’t dumb, he’s bound to be suspicious but among all of them, he is also known to be one of the nicest despite his stand-offish attitude. He’ll accept Sunghoon’s proposal if it meant better lifestyle for (y/n).

But perhaps, he’s become too naive, too complacent and confident to realise that his friend’s affections for (y/n) has run deeper than he bargained for. An affection so strong that it borders with obsession.

The sound of the younger’s scoff pulls Hoon away from his reverie and his dark brows knit at him. “So, you too?”

“Pardon?” Sunghoon sounds, visibly confused and Sunoo stands before striding towards him with a mien, solemn, and gaze, frigid.

“First it was Jaeyun, and now you. It’s laughable how any of you think that you can steal (y/n) away from me,” the host scoffs, a cynical smirk on his face and he tilts his head up to him. "I think it is wise for you to leave my abode at this moment, and never set foot in it until I permit you to."

Sunghoon's luxuriant brows knit as his panicked eyes flicker between the other's, deeply shocked by his abrupt verdict. Seeing the inordinate hostility in his golden eyes and the taut fists trembling on his sides from his restraint, it is as if he no longer recognizes. As if they are distant strangers.

His words are caught in his throat, horrified at the young's unforeseen aggression and thankfully, he needs not to respond as the rapidly approaching clamour and discordance of sabatons against tiles.

Like an alarmed lemur, Sunoo's head snaps to the door instantly as eyes widen with anticipation right as his guards enter while flanking (y/n) and Jake. Relief washes over him, shoulders falling and corners of his lips curling as he pulls the girl away from his men's holds.

"(y/n)! I thought you left me. I was so worried," Sunoo sighs into her hair as he embraces her tighty—a scandalous gesture for unwed figures and yet, none dare to refute. He expects to be reciprocated, to feel her own limbs wrap around his torso with warmth yet instead, he's pushed an arm's length away and is greeted by a face scrunched with pure franticness and concern.

"Sunoo, it isn't his fault! It was my idea, truly! I was the one who encouraged the escapade. Not Jaeyun!" She pleads for mercy—not to grant it to her, but to Jake. And it irks Sunoo, so so much to an extent where he wishes for the older lad's demise.

He casts his focus to the said man, eyes that were previously soft and cordial turning sharp and beady like those of a serpent's as he calmly approaches the apprehended noble. "Jake."

The lack of honorifics shocks the latter who's so accustomed to the other addressing him with respect—even if they were to be in a friendly banter, Sunoo never forgets their proper labels as he thinks of dignity very highly.

Which meant that right now, Jaeyun is very, truly, undeniably fuc—

"Just as I have said to Sunghoon, you are to pack your bags and to never dare to approach my property in any circumstance. And this order is to remain until I, myself, revoke it," he hisses his words that are laced with venom. Glare fixed solely on the man whose face blanched upon understanding his command.

That would mean he can never see (y/n) again. He can't simply accept that.

"It wasn't my fault! If you weren't such a selfish, lazy arse, you would not have needed to burden your people with an absurd amount of tax! (y/n) was just worried for them and I sought to ease her of her anxiety that was caused by you!" Jaeyun argues, seething as his chest heaves heavily. It's unwise to argue with the host whose edict will dictate his fate but that's all he can think of.

Sunoo scowls, brow arches with disbelief. "What?"

The feel of cold, trembling fingers intertwining with his distract him and he grows quiet upon meeting (y/n)'s gaze. She shakes her head softly as she rolls her lips between her teeth, brows scrunch and eyes constantly shifting from one of his to the other.

"Please," she begs wispily and brings his hand against her cheek which she then nuzzles into. Like ice to a bruise and a hearth in winter, Sunoo's tumultuous emotions are pacified, leaving only heavy exhaustion from his mental strain and the shaky exhale he perform is a telltale sign. He overlooks the curl of her lips when he surrenders into her—cupping her other cheek with his vacant hand before he presses his plush lips onto her forehead in a lingering, intimate kiss.

Sunghoon and Jaeyun gawk at the sight, both shocked and envious of his privilege to do such a thing with her, but they are quickly dismissed by him who chooses to abide by her requests. Even Sunghoon is excused as he's now too eager to spend time with (y/n) after being deprived of her for hours.

As the doors of her lavish chamber shut behind the two nobles, they turn to one another and exchange knowing yet simultaneously understanding looks before they separate to their own private rooms.

"I didn't know you would be so affected. I apologize," (y/n) says softly as Sunoo brings her to the bed before gently sitting her beside him. "I promise I will not do it again."

The noble stares at her, hurt flashing across his deep gaze as he recalls how she willingly chose to leave him and follow Jaeyun, but he only shakes his head a smile. She's still his and no one can change that. "It's true I was I upset. But, it was my fault. I knew I was being unfair to the people, but desperation lead me to be...selfish. I shouldn't have." "I'll mend it. I shall revoke my order and instead, retrieve the amount needed from my personal vault. My father would not know if I don't tell him, right?"

He lets out a small chuckle with a grin that spells mischief and slyness. His eyes upturned as they scintillate with excitement.

And at that, (y/n)'s brows raise briefly, pleasantly...surprised at his sudden declaration. He'll use his own wealth to correct his wrongs? Of course, it is to be expected—for one who is morally responsible and selfless—but never did she expect that he, or any of the seven nobles, would make such a decision.

"(y/n)?" Sunoo calls softly, bemused by her abrupt silence before finding himself grappling to remain solid and sane when she presses her lips against his cheeks. His temperature spikes, each nerve end tingling as his face turns pink like a blossom. "(y-y/n)?"

The girl smiles as she cups his cheek, an enigmatic yet, warm gleam in her eyes as she stares tenderly at him. Sunoo feels as if he'll implode from how inordinately quick his heart rate is.

"You're sweet," she says, a strange sense of ambiguity laced within. Her thumb caresses his dewy skin that blooms redder. "I've truly...grown attached."

𝓟𝓐𝓡𝓣 2

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

inspired by ‘milk of the sirens’ by melanie martinez and ‘siren’ by kailee morgue

𝜗𝜚 enha are very ew here :C so proceed with caution!! i can't wait for (y/n) to give them a taste of their own medicine :D erm, if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog—they give me some motivation, ya know? but please, do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

taglist for this series is open—send an ask to be included ♡

@angelicyouth @lilyuwon @sakanelli-afc @lakoya @clara12o @heeseung-min @inkpot-winters @lilikisuki @randomanothercreature @laylasbunbunny @hveanlyanqelic

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