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#mere fantasies that can never be fulfilled
shanti-ashant-hai · 3 months
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quickiesgirl · 1 year
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Dirty Little Secret - Eddie Munson
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Paring: Perv!Eddie Munson x Innocent Fem!Reader
Warning: 18+, Smut, Dom/Sub, Perv!Eddie, Soft Innocent!Reader, Mirror Sex, Sex Toys, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, My Shitty Writing.
Kinktober 7 - Sex Toys/Mirror Sex
Your roommate laid across your pink duvet, a stuffed animal tucked behind his arm while he sat back into the neatly placed pillows, repeatedly glancing between you and the book resting between his fingers. Unable to focus his attention on anything other than the gorgeous woman who was getting ready in front of him.
As you walked past, eyes glancing into the reflection of your standing bedroom mirror, you spot the ribbon on your white stocking untied and bend down, lacing up the thin material into a small bow, not thinking anything about the mini skirt that was riding up on your ass, revealing those adorable, cherry-colored panties you had on and the plush outline of your pussy against the thin fabric.
Eddie groaned, shifting his weight slightly against the mattress as he reached his hand down and blatantly palmed himself through his black jeans, lowering his book down over his crotch to hide his perversion.
“Ed's? Would you pretty please check to see if my necklace is in my drawer?” You requested sweetly, forcing him to remove his gaze from you with a small sigh.
“Y-yeah. I’ll check for you, babydoll.”
He set his book aside and sat up, reaching down to pull open the bedside drawer, looking down with wide eyes when he spotted the bullet vibrator on top of a couple of neatly stacked romance novels.
Eddie would have never suspected an innocent woman like you owning such a device. It seemed like you were naughtier than he had imagined.
He swung his feet from the mattress, planting them on the ground as he took a quick peek at the romance novels before eventually picking up the vibrator and inspecting the toy that looked so incredibly small in his hands.
“Oh my, look at what we have here…”
You glance over your shoulder, your entire facial expression falling, changing to a look of embarrassment when you recognize what exactly he held in his hands, making you flustered, “I uh, I-I’m so sorry. I completely forgot I left it in there.”
“No need to apologize, sweetheart,” Eddie said, shaking his head with a mischievous smirk.
The handsome man stood from the edge of the bed and stepped towards you, his boots prominent against the floor, practically echoing through the silent room as he dragged his thumb over the silicon.
You feel your body tense, chest rising and falling faster than before as he moves closer. With his body inches away from yours, you look up into those chocolate brown eyes and down to his plush lips that look so sweet to taste. You can smell his strong scent of cigarettes and cologne. It was fucking intoxicating.
“You’re not weirded out or anything?” You ask, fingers nervously playing with the seam of your skirt.
“You know I am not one to judge,” He expressed sincerely, hand laying over his chest to punctuate his sentence, “Everyone experiences the same urges, and it's important to have your needs fulfilled- especially when you don't have someone to assist you.”
A chill rolled through your body as you looked up at your handsome roommate, who was practically towered over you. His shaggy brown hair fell into the sides of his face, cheeks tinted with a slight shade of red, and tongue gliding along his bottom lip while he eyes you lecherously through his darkened gaze. He was everything you yearn for, and that was a fact he was very aware of.
“You know, I’ve always found that the most innocent girls like you always have the dirtiest fantasies. Am I right?”
You drew a sharp breath, brain becoming foggy as your legs pressed themselves together, putting pressure on the throbbing ache that was becoming harder to handle, “M-maybe.”
“Is this one of ‘em? Is it your desperate fantasy to get fucked by your metalhead roommate?”
His lips are mere inches away yet seem so out of reach from your own.
“Eddie, please.”
His head tilt to the side with a grin creeping across his face, loving that adorable, pathetic whine that just came out of your mouth. “Please, what? Tell me exactly what you want?”
You huff softly, frustrated with these yearnful aches, heat reading from your thighs, and embarrassed to say what you need in such a moment, “Please, k-kiss me?…”
“mhm, that’s better baby,”
Eddie moved forward, hungrily pressing into your lips, sharing an intimate kiss that was just as perfect as you imagined. You move in sync while his bottom lip cradles yours.
He holds the back of your neck while the other roams your body. Teeth gently pulling at your lip between breaths before moving back in. Your hand lays upon his chest as you stand on the tips of your toes to further deepen the kiss, pushing your tongue past his bottom lip. Noses brushing against each other as you do so.
You slowly slid the thin straps down your shoulders, leaving the fabric of your tank top bunched around your lower waist, overlapping the start of your skirt. You reached back, unclipping your bra, allowing your breasts to spill out of the cups and fall to the floor.
Eddie presses you back into the steady mirror, his hand snaking up your torso to fondle your tits while he skims your bullet vibrator beneath your skirt and slides along your slit, making warmth pool in your panties.
You ball his shirt into your fists and nibble on your bottom lip, muffling your moans when you feel the sensation of the vibrations start unexpectedly, watching him teasingly raise your skirt and ogle your clothed cunt.
“Cherry red panties, naughty fucking baby…” Eddie purrs before sliding your panties down, dropping them to the floor with your other undergarments, “Spin around and place your hands on the walls.”
You did as told, turning around and watching his reflection with wide eyes. He ogled your pretty ass and caressed his large hand over the skin before slapping it harshly, earning a sensitive jolt from your body, shoving your ass into the comforting space against his crotch.
“Your gonna watch in the mirror while I fucking ruin you, understand?”
You nod your head and spread your legs apart, feeling his hand slowly slide up your inner thighs, heat radiating from your cunt as he gently swipes his thumb across your puffy lips, down to your drenched little hole.
With his dominant hand, he swiftly undid his cuffed belt and dropped his jeans around his ankles. Eddie pulled out his hard, heavy cock from his boxers and wrapped his hand around his member, pumping it a few strokes before lining it to your entrance, thrusting inside your tightness with a drawn-out sigh, “Christ, princess, you feel fucking incredible-”
All your nerves were set to fire in an instant. You have only ever read about this in romance novels, even imagined a scene like this on a lonely night, craving his touch while he's in the next room, wanting to be manhandled by Eddie Fucking Munson.
A moan fell from your parted lips, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you felt your inner walls stretch apart like you have never experienced before.
He snakes his arm around your waist and holds your mini vibrator up to your swollen clitoral hood at the lowest setting, allowing the vibrations to rumble throughout your body.
"Mm, Eddie~"
A string of breathy moans and whimpers leave your lips before your teeth bury into your bottom lip, your nails digging into the textured wall.
“That's it, princess, don't hold back on me… I wanna hear all those pretty - little - noises - I’ve been dying to hear…” Eddie grunts, continuously striking your a-spot, making your knees buckle where you stand, your pussy contracts around him tighter than before, “Let all the neighbors listen to how good you feel.”
The vibrations of your toy increase in speed on your twitching clit. His hips retract back, removing a couple of inches, leaving the head of his dick in your entrance, and stroking the thick base as he slides himself in and out ever so teasingly, massaging your g-spot in the mist, coaxing more loud, pathetic moans out of you.
You were high off the pleasure, cock drunk from only a few strokes to your upper wall. You loved this vulnerability, being on full display for Eddie, breasts out, and your panties discarded to the floor. The soft material of your skirt was being held up by his hand, exposing your swollen lips parted around that little vibrator.
Eddie pushes back in with one swift thrust, beginning to pound you from behind while his heavy balls slap into your labia. An animalistic look filled his eyes as he fixated his gaze on your reflection, deeply enjoying those cute little reactions. You loved this roughness and how he was desperately fucking you like he'd been longing for this moment all his life, chasing his much-desired release.
“This pussy, this fucking body, it’s all mine- from now on, - you’re mine to fuck as I please, and mine to always - pleasure. You understand?”
You nod instantly, looking widely into those piercing eyes as he fucks you from behind, skin slapping together, sweat collecting on your bodies as the scent of sex scents the air.
“I can tell your close, pretty baby, so we’re gonna cum together. Where do you want me?”
“Inside, please, cum inside my pussy!”
You could barely finish your sentence before your long-awaited orgasm rushed over you, dissolving into pure euphoria. Unable to keep your bucking hips from staying still as you move back from the vibrator lying over your sensitive, overstimulated nerves.
Your cunt pulsates rhythmically around his member, feeling his stuttering hips give one last powerful thrust before letting go of his built-up tension, moaning as he empties his hot load deep inside you.
Eddie pulls the toy from your clitoris and shuts it off completely, lacing his arms around your waist while you lay your back into his chest out of pure exhaustion, “I got you, babydoll, just lean against me.”
He kissed your inner neck sweetly and slowly retracted his hips back, pulling out of your cunt, leaving your hole stretched open with a mixture of his and your cum drooling out. The sight was fucking sinful.
You whine needily from the loss of contact and glance up at him with a pout, a deep chuckle rumbling from Eddie's chest, “Oh, you just love being full of my cock, don’t you?”
“Mhm hm…”
“Well, how about we relax in bed and cuddle-fuck before we have to head out?” He suggested, burying his face in your inner neck and pressing small kisses on the sensitive spots of your skin, “We can even check out those smutty novels while we're at it…”
Eddie Munson Smut Taglist: @sunflowerharrington @madmax-thewise @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @rottenstyx @cantthinkofauserlololol @natashamacimoff69 @zestychili @luna-munson83 @chaoticcancer @ruinedbythehobbit
Taglist Form | Message if you want to be removed <3
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godnectar · 2 years
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Hey absolutely a huge fan of your work. If you can and want to, could you please do one of a yandere writing nsfw stories of himself and his darling hoping to recreate it one day with his darling?
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・✶ 。゚YAN! NSFW WRITER ;
cw: obsessive & possessive behaviour, kinda suggestive (ofc sylas 🙄), gn! reader (non-specified genitalia), etc.
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yandere writer! who, since you two became a couple, has become more and more excited when he had to write his little erotic scenes in any of his books. he would spend long, extensive hours giving specified details of the 'event' when you are not with him–
yandere writer! who swears he has never felt this aroused as his trembling fingers type on his computer. what would you think of him, mmmh? what would you do if you ever discover the way his lovely cock reddens, probably also leaks, at the mere thought of recreating those writings with you, his precious muse?
yandere writer! who, when he thinks he's done for good, lets out a shaky breath, doing his best not to succumb and scroll up to reread something that could be considered as the dirtiest, most obscene scenario he's ever made.
yandere writer! who spends the rest of the midnight questioning himself about his lil' moments of sinfulness; would you approve of it? would you hate him for doing all of this while thinking about you, especially without you knowing? ...or would you consider helping him and fulfill his fantasies?
yandere writer! who truly wants to feel shy, even ashamed, but he just isn't able to. deep inside, he's aware of how much he wants you under him, listening attentively and trying out everything he dreams about. why should he suppress his desires when he's slightly sure he could eventually convince you of making them possible?
yandere writer! who, after some good minutes spent overthinking, ends up sobbing outraged tears, not just because of the overstimulation of his hand sliding up and down on his dick, but because he cannot muster up the courage to share his perversions with his darling. how long will he resist until he goes madder than he already is?
yandere writer! who, as he believes every writer does, has a million erotic drafts about him and his lover he hopes you will never know about. he cannot afford having his babe feeling weirded out; what if you decide to leave him? he doesn't want to actually lock you in the house, you know :(
yandere writer! who felt his soul leave his body the moment he entered the office a random day and saw you looking at his computer screen; his heart started beating wildly when he catched a glimpse of a smug smile spreading on your lips. what he didn't expect was to find himself some hours after breathing hard, his body glistening in sweat and skin marked up with your love <3
yandere writer! who, once he was able to experience how amazing you were while carrying out his fantasies, now he can't get enough of his babe and constantly wants to repeat ♡ his little obsession for u growing as the days pass.
"my muse, i hope you are aware i can't let you go after making me this happy; my masterpieces have been made because of you, it would be a shame to stop, don't u think?"
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© godnectar 2023. please do not modify, translate, or repost my works on any platform without my permission.
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webbluvrsugar · 2 months
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subby-virgin!ethan x virgin!reader + dry humping, pleaaaseeee
dry humping bestfriend!Ethan Landry
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“Yeah, I’ve never really done anything..” he confesses.
You’ve been talking about love for the past minutes while sitting on your bed, childhood crushes, crushes in general, dates and bad relationships, and now you’ve just reached something more sexual — intimate.
He says he’s never done anything before, neither did you, but that doesn’t matter now. It’s a bit surprising, really. Sure, Ethan’s a little shy, but he’s also gorgeous, hot even, sometimes when he’s doing stuff like explaining a topic you didn’t understand in class, — maybe even rambling about his nerdy stuff — you can never tune in to what he’s saying, you’re distracted, staring into his eyes, his hair, the way his hands flex around his pencil, his expressions. And, he opened up to you, he could’ve probably opened up to someone else, but apparently… that never happened, yet.
“What about you?” He asks and you squirm in your seat.
What are you even supposed to tell him? Everything that you’ve ever done in these four walls.. in the bed you’re sitting on, is at least a little vulgar, you’re not sure what Ethan will think about you, but you sigh and answer him anyways.
“Well I —“ you gulp, his eyes meet yours, expectant with a tinge of curiosity. “I’ve never…fucked before but I’ve — I’ve seen stuff.” You admit, you expect him to judge you, but he doesn’t, his brows furrow, he only seems a little more curious, maybe even relaxed.
“You’ve seen?” He asks, squirming a little closer to you.
“Yeah like… like porn.” You admit, he flushes, his hands clench around his pants, he’s not that innocent either, he’s seen porn before too, things to fulfil his darkest fantasies, nasty things done to the girls on there, sometimes even something softer, but it works more as his own relief to his mind, so yeah, he’s seen porn before, but he just wants to know what you watch on there.
“What — What have you seen on there?”
Definitely a lot of things you can tell him, yet, because this conversation is going too well for it to be ruined, so you decide to appeal to something different, this can be your chance to finally get with him, sure you’re inexperienced but… it’s worth the try.
“Uhm…” you exhale. “Can I show you?”
He freezes, swallows again, imagines all the things you might show him now, he’s thought about you like that before. He stays quiet for a bit too long before nodding, letting his hands fall from his pants to the sheets.
You light up with a soft smile, remove the pyjama shorts you’re wearing before approaching him closer in the bed again, looking up to him as your fingers move to his pants, asking him for permission without really saying a word, he just nods again, leans back against the headboard and sighs.
You pull down his pants, his hands flex against the sheets with the mere hint of your touch, all this silence only brings tension to the room, he’s already hard, you can tell, and you’re not really sure what you’re doing, but you’re wet too, so you just keep going.
“Just relax.” You say, straddling him, he’s already blushing red.
“O — Okay..” he whispers, but he’s nervous, maybe even confused when you don’t remove his boxers, but he doesn’t question it.
You move his hands from the sheets to your hips, looking back at him. “Just hold my hips like that.”
You command softly before moving your hips forward on him, your clit hits the tip of his cock through the thin fabric of your clothing, you both moan together, his grip on your hips becomes tighter, he bucks into you unintentionally, you moan again, he smirks lightly.
“Like that?” He asks, muttering.
“Firmer.” Another command.
He complies, rolling your hips firmer into him, you whimper, let your body rest against his, your head against his shoulder.
“Quicker.” You say into his ear, he grunts as he picks up the pace, your panties are wet and sticky and the fabric gives you both the perfect stimulation for it, his eyes look down to you and his fingers clench on your skin, a hidden moan escaping him as he gets the hang of it.
“You like that?” You ask, one hand going up into his hair as you move with him.
“Y — Yes… fuck, you’re wet.” He says it like it’s a surprise, he doesn’t think he could make you this wet, but he did, and he takes pride in it.
His hands work faster, they move down into your ass and squeeze, his head hits the headboard and he groans, bucks his hips up into you intentionally this time.
“Hoooly shit, I think I’m about to cum.”
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suchawrathfullamb · 23 days
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Sacred Submission - Hannibal, Will, and the Theology of Surrender
This essay delves into the spiritual, philosophical, and psychological aspects of Will and Hannibal's relationship, focusing on how their mutual surrender reflects the process of shadow integration. It connects this dynamic to the erotic devotion seen in Hindu philosophies, suggesting that their bond represents a sacred, almost divine merging of light and dark, self and other, in a journey toward wholeness.
Is the true nature of love found not in fulfillment but in the longing, the reaching beyond oneself toward something ineffable?
Lacan, the French psychoanalyst and psychiatrist, famously posited that desire is always about something that is unattainable, what he called the objet petit a —the elusive object of desire that is forever out of reach.
In Lacan’s view, our desires are structured around a fundamental lack, a gap that can never be fully closed. This gap is not a deficiency but a defining feature of human experience.
Could passionate love, in its truest form, be not about possession or attainment, but rather about the continuous desire and yearning for something that remains elusive, mysterious, and beyond complete comprehension or ownership?
Hannibal becomes fascinated by Will Graham because he is unlike anyone Hannibal has ever encountered, possessing a unique gift of uncontrolled empathy. This gift, in a way, threatens Hannibal's carefully constructed facade, as it allows Will to see deeper into him than anyone else ever has. For Hannibal, who never believed anyone could truly see or understand him, this connection stirs something profound within him.
But Hannibal's interest goes beyond this; it is not just that Will can see through his masks—something that both intrigues and unnerves Hannibal—but also that Will remains, in many ways, unpredictable. Unlike everyone else, who appears obvious and predictable to Hannibal, Will is a mystery, a puzzle that he cannot fully solve.
For those with a more profound sense of emptiness—whether due to their upbringing, their inherently deeper nature, or their tendency to be easily bored and difficult to satisfy— Will represents something irresistibly compelling. In this context, Hannibal represents all individuals who, like everyone, harbor an inherent lack, yet theirs is more acute. It takes far more than money, romance, or superficial pursuits to satisfy them.
In Lacanian terms, Will represents the eternal search, the elusive objet petit a that drives desire. For Hannibal, Will embodies this endless pursuit—he is both the mirror in which Hannibal sees himself more clearly and the enigma that keeps Hannibal engaged, edged, excited, and longing. Without this sense of mystery and unpredictability, there would be no excitement, no longing—no desire. Will, therefore, becomes the focal point of Hannibal's emotional landscape, representing both the possibility of fulfillment and the perpetuation of the eternal lack that defines Hannibal's existence.
In loving someone, we are not merely seeking to possess them but to connect with something within them that we can never fully grasp—a deeper essence or truth that always lies just beyond our reach.
"Love is the pursuit of the whole."
- Plato
This elusive "something" is what drives us to long for union, but it also raises questions: What is this thing we are truly seeking? Does desire end if we actually manage to grasp it? Or does desire die when our illusions and expectations about the other person shatter, revealing that what we perceived in them—the source of our longing—was never really there?
In the relationship between Will and Hannibal, this conundrum is particularly poignant because Will continually defies and exceeds Hannibal's expectations. Unlike the typical experience where desire might fade upon realizing the object of affection was merely a projection of our own fantasies, Will consistently surprises Hannibal, challenging and deepening their connection. Even in the end, when Will acknowledges what Hannibal always saw in him, the dynamic remains complex. Hannibal's final words, "what I wanted for you...for both of us," reveal that his desire was not merely about Will's becoming, but about what that transformation could mean for both of them—a union that transcends their individual identities.
Hannibal's desire for Will's acceptance goes beyond mere fascination or control. It speaks to a deeper need within Hannibal to be fully seen, understood, and accepted by someone who can truly match him. For Hannibal, Will represents not just a partner in his dark endeavors, but someone who could potentially complete him, fulfilling that elusive desire for connection that he has been chasing all his life. The union with Will, in Hannibal's mind, would be the culmination of both of their journeys—a merging of selves that transcends their individual limitations. But why did Hannibal need Will to accept him? Perhaps it is because, despite his self-assured exterior, Hannibal is searching for validation, for someone who could see the darkness within him and still choose to embrace it.
"The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed."
-Jung
Throughout the series, Will's empathy seems to be selectively engaged—he truly connects only with other killers or individuals he perceives as sharing his own psychological struggles, such as Peter or Georgia. This selective empathy suggests that Will is not necessarily empathizing in the traditional sense but rather recognizing in others the deeply repressed feelings and impulses that he harbors within himself. It is as if he sees in them a reflection of his own darkness, something he struggles to acknowledge in himself. This dynamic raises the question of whether Will’s empathy is genuine or simply a recognition of his own suppressed desires in others who express them more overtly.
What is undeniable, however, is that Will is profoundly lonely. He admits this to Hannibal, saying, "I'm as alone as you are, and we are alone without the other." Both Will and Hannibal crave the connection that the other represents, yet Will cannot fully accept this part of himself. His discomfort with his own nature leads him to run from his feelings, resulting in convoluted and often contradictory behavior. Will’s reluctance to embrace his darker impulses and his connection with Hannibal mirrors his struggle with self-acceptance—he is drawn to Hannibal and what he represents but is equally repelled by what this connection reveals about his own identity. This internal conflict drives much of the tension in their relationship, as Will oscillates between rejection and longing, unable to fully reconcile the two.
And this unfulfilled desire that they chase after is not a flaw or failure in love, but its very essence. Love, rather than a state of being, becomes a process of endless becoming.
In the show, "Becoming" refers to the process of transformation, where an individual sheds old aspects of themselves and embraces new, often darker, parts of their psyche. And can be correlated to the concept of spiritual enlightenment. For Will Graham, this process is catalyzed by his interactions with Hannibal, who serves both as a mentor and as a mirror, reflecting back the potential for darkness that exists within Will.
Despite his attempts to run from or destroy this aspect of himself, it becomes evident that Will derives pleasure from it. His identity is constantly shifting between the poles of desire and repression. This instability is both the source of his inner turmoil and the key to understanding his complex relationship with Hannibal.
The way identity can be shifted, dissolved, challenged, or redefined can be viewed in light of Advaita Vedanta’s dissolution of the self.
Advaita Vedanta , a hindu philosophy, posits that the ultimate goal of life is the realization of the unity between the self (Atman) and the universal reality (Brahman). This realization involves the dissolution of the ego and personal identity, transcending the individual self to experience oneness with the universal consciousness. Moksha, or spiritual liberation, in Tantric philosophy is achieved through the realization of non-duality. When the individual self (jiva) recognizes its unity with the universal consciousness, the cycle of birth and death (samsara) is transcended. The union with the sacred lover is a microcosmic reflection of this cosmic truth.
Throughout the series, Will is confronted with the darker aspects of his psyche. Hannibal, recognizing this darkness in Will, seeks to draw it out, to bring Will into what he perceives as a more authentic existence.
Will's "Becoming" is a psychological journey of confronting and integrating his shadow—the unconscious part of the psyche that contains repressed weaknesses, desires, and instincts.
Although many viewers may interpret Will's journey and Hannibal's intentions as inherently evil, a deeper understanding reveals that the show's narrative is framed from Hannibal's perspective. Hannibal views the integration of the shadow self as a positive and liberating experience. Unbound by societal or moral expectations, Hannibal operates according to his own rules, striving to embody a god-like figure. From his viewpoint, Will embracing his darker self represents progress and growth. This transformation is not merely about a desire to kill; it signifies Will's acceptance of Hannibal and their potential union. Hannibal sees this as a spiritual experience, one that involves the complete destruction of limitations, such as shame and restraint.
Will’s journey can be seen as a struggle for self-actualization, a battle between his desire to maintain his moral compass and the pull toward the power and freedom that comes with embracing his darker instincts. Hannibal represents the temptation of absolute freedom and power, unbounded by conventional morality. Of surrender.
In Bhakti , another hindu philosophy, surrender is seen as a personal dissolution, where the devotee gives up their ego and identity in total devotion to a deity. This kind of devotional surrender can be understood in mundane situations where individuals are overwhelmed or transcended by powerful, often erotic forces that erase the boundaries of the self.
Violent scenes where Will experiences pain, often carry a sexual undertone. In these, he exhibits a profound release, hinting at the deeper, ultimate moment of bliss he experiences on the final episode. These moments reflect his journey toward surrendering to Hannibal, demonstrating that when this surrender occurs willingly, driven by love and devotion, it culminates in a state of bliss. This contrasts with experiences where surrender is compelled or forced, where pleasure is invariably accompanied by pain. The erotic and violent elements in these scenes symbolize a transcendence of self-boundaries, suggesting that genuine, voluntary surrender to powerful forces, whether in love or otherwise, can lead to a profound and pure sense of fulfillment.
When Will and Hannibal willingly surrender to each other—Will by joining Hannibal in the fight with the Dragon and Hannibal by allowing Will to pull them off the cliff—this act can be seen as a profound destruction that leads to a new creation and a new life, free of fear. True spiritual surrender means transcending the fear of divine will or whims, and realizing that one is, in essence, a part of that divine force. This realization dispels the illusion of separation, eliminating fear because one understands that they themselves are god, and that god is love.
In this context, love is not merely an emotion but a force—a force of union that compels opposing parties to unite and annihilate illusion, thereby destroying duality. All other rules and restrictions are illusory and lack a true foundation in reality. They are temporary barriers against the irresistible current of this powerful force. Love, as understood in this spiritual sense, transcends the limited scope of human emotions. It is the uniting of opposites and contradictory elements, which then causes their annihilation. This mysterious aspect of love defies the rational mind and human personality, actively seeking to challenge and overcome these elements.
When Hannibal expressed the desire to be alone with Will, in the "Achilles and Patroclus" scene, where he admits wanting everyone to die so that he could be with Will, reveals a profound element of his psyche. Mads Mikkelsen's once said that Hannibal wants it "to be Will and himself and that's it", and it further confirms that Hannibal's fixation on Will eclipses all other human connections, reducing others to mere obstacles in their potential union. This desire to eliminate all others signifies more than just romantic or obsessive love; it symbolizes Hannibal’s yearning to obliterate any trace of duality or separation. In wanting to be alone with Will, Hannibal seeks a form of spiritual and psychological merging where individuality dissolves, and they become a singular, integrated self. This merging, in Hannibal’s view, would lead to total bliss and liberation, echoing mystical concepts of unity and the dissolution of ego. For Hannibal, this merging represents the ultimate fulfillment, the obliteration of all external distractions that keep him from his true desire.
However, for Will, this same merging represents a loss of self, an annihilation of his individuality, leading to the opposite—a terrifying loss of autonomy and the potential descent into madness. This difference in perception underscores the tension between their characters: what Hannibal views as the ultimate union, Will sees as an existential threat, a conflict that drives much of the psychological drama between them.
In Tantric philosophy, the act of love is seen as a profound form of surrender. The surrender here is not just emotional or psychological but total—it involves the mind, body, and spirit. The surrender to the sacred lover is symbolic of the surrender to the divine. When one gives oneself fully in love, without holding back, it mirrors the surrender to the divine will. This act of surrender is seen as a way to transcend the ego, which is often the source of suffering and separation from the divine.
In this context, the lover becomes a gateway through which one can encounter the divine. Through the practice of Tantric rituals the practitioners aim to dissolve the boundaries of the individual self and experience a state of unity with the cosmos.
And although Hannibal is more aware and accepting of his feelings toward Will, he takes considerable time to fully surrender to them. For Hannibal, surrender represented a form of annihilation, a total merging with the beloved or with a divine entity. In his view, surrender to God—or to Will—entails yielding to a force that might be capricious and destructive. This perception renders the act of surrender profoundly dangerous and destabilizing. Hannibal’s attempt to kill and consume Will echoes his desire to dominate and conquer, similar to his act of consuming his sister Mischa. By doing so, Hannibal seeks to assert control over the vulnerabilities that Will represents.
For Will, surrendering to Hannibal symbolizes a profound threat to his own sense of self, as he fears that Hannibal’s overwhelming presence could overshadow and annihilate his own identity. This interplay of fear and desire underscores the complex dynamics of their relationship, where surrendering to each other reflects a deeper existential struggle.
Advaita Vedanta 's teaching that the self is ultimately one with Brahman can be seen as a radical redefinition of identity, where individual distinctions dissolve in the face of a greater, unified reality.
The culmination of Will's "Becoming" is most vividly portrayed in the series finale, where he finally confronts the totality of his relationship with Hannibal and his own identity. By the end of the series, Will has integrated his shadow, understanding that the darkness within him is not something separate from who he is but a fundamental part of his identity. This integration is symbolized in the final act of violence they commit together against the Red Dragon, an act that unites them in a way that transcends both of their previous identities.
Spiritual progress does not require denying one's desires or affections. On the contrary, in many occult traditions surrendering to what we love most brings us closer to God through the destruction of the ego via love.
"God" is not cruel, in this perspective, and there is a genuine spiritual reason for finding certain physical or sexual characteristics arousing. This is not sinful but indicates the vibration one is meant to merge with in a religious sense.
Mystics describe the joy of fully immersing oneself in the object of one's affection, merging with it forever in their writings to encourage others to seek it. They even suggest that God "seduces" one into liberation through passions and temptations. Mirroring the show's entire arc between Will and Hannibal.
Love, from this perspective, can be seen as a formidable force that shatters the illusion of individuality. It appears as a terrifying monster seeking to devour the self to those immersed in ego-based consciousness, as Hannibal and Will were for most of the story. The more one resists this total submission, the more love seems to pursue and compel this yielding.
Pouring one's life force into a divine partner out of love is the most rewarding activity, according to these teachings, as it contributes to creating our own paradise and reality, where we can be with them and enjoy the true purpose of the universe—pleasure, games, and loveplay without shame or guilt, which is exactly Hannibal's desire and so much of what he believes and who he is at the core of his character.
From his perspective we could venture that Jesus' command to "love your enemies" was not about allowing them to harm you but about dissolving their ego and assimilating them into one's own being. This is the true nature of love, which is not evil but a misunderstood concept of self-realization. To achieve wholeness, one must assimilate all disparate parts of the inner self. External enemies represent parts of ourselves that we have not yet integrated. Conquering internal weaknesses also leads to overcoming external adversaries.
Viewing something equal as an enemy reflects a dualistic consciousness, typical of those entrenched in material illusions and distant from unified consciousness. Which reflects Will's position for most of the series. True marriage between equal but opposite (yin and yang) partners embodies the Vajra or Thunderbolt power, as seen in Greek and Hindu myths. By uniting opposing forces—yin and yang —we generate something immune to time and decay.
Muhammad, the founder of Islam, famously stated that "Marriage is half of religion". Similarly, the Catholic Church regards marriage as a sacrament, reflecting its sacred importance. The New Testament quotes Jesus, saying, "And the two shall become one flesh. So they are no longer two but one flesh". At its core, the purpose of all religion is to achieve Union with God, and marriage, in many traditions, serves as a sacred path toward this ultimate union, mirroring the spiritual unity between the divine and the human.
The doctrine of "twin souls," central to Jyotish astrology and other esoteric teachings, posits that a single human soul incarnates into two individuals. In a world defined by duality and division, each person has a true "other half," a soulmate who embodies the other half of their soul. According to this belief, true wholeness can only be achieved by reconnecting with this twin soul, as the union of these two halves is the only path to complete spiritual and emotional fulfillment.
According to western occultism, the Yin partner goes on nightly astral huntings, whether unconscious or conscious, and they stalk and pursue any yang they choose, having perceived them in the light of day as an interesting target to master. Once the yin has set their mark, one of three outcomes ensues: the yang allows themself to be consumed, falling under the yin's spell and being engulfed by the powerful void energy they generate; they find protection from their own spouse, who shields them from the attack; or they recognizes the yin as their soulmate, willingly allowing them to consume their ego and embracing the protection they offer. This dynamic reflects the yin's potent influence, where the yang's response determines whether he is devoured, defended, or transformed through the union, mirrored by Will and Hannibal's dynamic throughout the series, with Hannibal seducing him, and Will resisting it until he awakens to that love and surrenders to it, which grants him freedom and transformation, seeing that it is confirmed canon by the creator that they survived, and the alternative ending shows Will in a peaceful state, sharing his sacred spiritual space with his soulmate.
"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage."
-Lao Tzu
The actual final scene that shows both of them explicitly, where Will and Hannibal embrace as they fall off the cliff, can be seen as the ultimate act of transformation—an acceptance of their intertwined fates and a literal leap into the unknown. This moment symbolizes the death of their previous selves and the potential for a new form of existence, one that is free from the constraints of their former identities.
If successful, this dynamic of twin souls, or soulmates, creates a marriage where the yang's individuality is shrouded and consumed within the safety provided by the yin. On this path, the yin partner understands that true satisfaction comes from the total absorption of and energetic fulfillment through their partner. Consequently, they initiate a process of deep connection by channeling their naturally devouring tendencies, drawing their partner into a profound, consuming union.
Interestingly enough, season's four concept seemed to mirror this, according to Bryan Fuller, the creator, and Hugh Dancy, who hinted at the plot being about Hannibal taking Will away and them building their shared mind palace together, engaging in intimacy and shared interests.
Through Will and Hannibal’s relationship, we are invited to explore the terrifying possibilities of surrendering to one’s darkest impulses, questioning the very nature of self and the boundaries of human experience. The series challenges us to consider whether true liberation lies in the integration of the shadow self or if such a path leads to the ultimate destruction. And is destruction negative? As Hannibal himself inquired at one point. Or can it be used to destroy the ego, the limitations, the illusion of separation that permeates all of us when we think about God?
Perhaps their relationship could reveal that God, in all of His mysteries, can be found within the love we surrender ourselves to. In the giving up of a fixed identity in order to consume the beloved. Not as an act of compliance or oppression, but out of an uncontrollable desire for union. A desire to empty ourselves out, just to be filled up with our perfect opposite.
In this way, surrender to God is not an abandonment of the self. It is purification of the self through the destructive fires of Love, in which a new, unified self is born out of. In this way, surrender to the beloved is really the surrender to the part of ourselves that resists the vulnerability of love. It is the surrender to death itself, as this resistance originates from the fear of destruction. Therefore, in this case, there is nothing more powerful than surrendering to love. Embracing death, welcoming destruction as a means of transformation, and loving fearlessly.
*****
Refs:
"Sexual Aggression: Issues in Etiology, Assessment, and Treatment." by Neil Malamuth and Nancy M. Koss
"The Dark Side of Love: Positive and Negative Aspects of Intimate Relationships" by Debra L. Davis, William J. Ickes, and Sheila A. Knowles
"The Psychology of Sexual Aggression" by Terry A. Wilson and David Richard
Hugh Dancy said at a Comic Con that he was really excited about the plot of season four, and at a recent convention he said he'd like to explore the specific part of the last book which is about Hannibal taking Clarice away and them enjoying their alone time, having sex and building their mind palaces. Clarice was replaced by Will on the show, and they do not have the rights for that character which means Hugh meant Hannibal and Will, not literally Clarice. And I specifically said he hinted at it because he seems to always go with answers that are closer to what Fuller told him about what would actually happen in season four, he never truly gives answers that seem personal or too creative in regards to his wishes for season four, as well as Fuller saying at an online interview that season four can be described as "lurid erotic intimacy".
Feel free to ask me if you want more references to anything mentioned in this essay.
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pumpkingas · 23 days
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Okay okay, soo if there's like a sex worker android they'd be able to fulfill every kink, fetish and philia right? Just a stressed out virgin dipping into their savings just to have a gooddd night with some artificial intelligence. Sitting on the edge of the bed as the android begins it's typical routine, swaying it's hips and seducing them with compliments and sweet-nothings. The virgin would sweat, fiddling with the payment card in their hand as they will themself to ask the question.
"Can you... fart? Uhm I can pay more if that's like premium, uh I've never—" They shift in their seat, staring at the wall as even fabricated eye contact is too much for them. The android would break their personal space bubble, shushing them with a realistically warm finger.
"are you asking if I can? Or if I will? I've got lots of modes, candid, kinky, shy, shameless, bubbly, silent, you name it. Just have to use your words," It rubs the poor virgins lips, their skin burning already from the mere awareness that their fantasy is capable of and is about to come alive. The android would climb into their lap, waiting patiently for a command. No matter the size of the android it'd be heavier than it looks because of all the machinery, the virgins thighs would be pressed against the mattress, their crotch heating up as they think of what to say. The android would push out a criminally warm fart right against their crotch, it'd be pleasantly long but not drone on and on, hot but not burning, loud but not eardrum popping. It would be set to a natural foul smell, however, soon they'd be shown that the options range from a fresh cotton candy scent to an abhorrent sewage-adjacent stench. All the while their android for the night teases them.
"Tell me exactly what you want..."
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himbocoups · 2 years
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˗ˋˏ Red Horn ˎˊ˗ | 18+ Only
synopsis: devils are contract workers - simply offer them a payment that they can never refuse, and your problems would be taken care of. the only thing is, what could a mere human possibly offer to a devil?
pairing: devil!jeonghan x innocent!reader (gn afab)
genre: fantasy, supernatural | smut, pwp
tags: flirting, food mention, office | bondage, light choking, creampie, dirty talk, fingering, oral, pet names, pnv, praise, if there's a term for jeonghan fucking you with one of his devil horns please tell me, reader wears lingerie, reader's first time, multiple orgasms...
wc: 5.4k
message from nu: this took me super long to write, but this has to be one of my favorites. special thank you to xan @aceofvernons and june @junkissed for keeping me company while I worked on the fic. I hope you all enjoy reading - nu <3
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In the distance, the elevator dings sharp and clear, its ring piercing through the reception lounge as its large plum-colored crystal doors open with a rumble. Even when you sit facing away from the reception desk, you can imagine the receptionist greeting the incomer with their monotonous voice, drawling out the same script they gave to you – jet black orbs staring at you judgmentally while you try to scribble your personal information on the forms as fast as you can.
A large Prometheus-type creature in the seat across from you whimpers when its name is called, head hunched and practically trembling with every stride toward the smiling attendant. Open space in front of you, you can see through the large glass windows the hundreds of skyscrapers and verdant greenery where feet touch the ground under the red sky. This place is but a stretch, an affected area of Hell – at least for those who are not native. Even this lounge, untouched coffee bar with expensive Keurig models, circa 1920s sleek leather Barcelonas, and low mid-century style coffee tables with old filled-in Highlights magazines as table decorations, is deceiving in its own way. Because, if it wasn’t clear enough, all of you are in Hell.
Sharp teeth chattering, long tails thumping in anxiety, and sheepish whimpers, the atmosphere in what could be a beautiful place is filled with layers of dread and fear. You sit in your chair, right hand brought to your lips, while slowly peeling the layers of chipped skin off your lips, the light sweater you wore in the morning feeling as heavy as a weighted blanket. Flicking away the loose pieces to the floor a few inches away from your fuzzy teddy bear slippers, you slink further into your seat with thoughts of what could possibly come next weighing you down.
You wanted it. Correction. You still want it, even when the soft jazz playing from the speakers barely masks the distant screams and screeches that echo throughout the many halls and floors in the building. So desperate to have your need fulfilled you would even beg a devil, the devil, for even an ounce of that fulfillment.
So, when a siren with beautiful wings adorned with brown speckled feathers calls your name, you answer with a squeak and scramble to meet them in the corridor of one of the halls where they wait patiently for you with a kind smile on their face. The creature’s feathers ruffle as it elegantly struts down the bright corridor, passing various framed artworks and accolades, a file folder nestled under the crook of its left wing. Too deep in your mind, nitpicking at your outfit choice and squeaky voice whenever you answer the siren’s small talk, you fail to even notice that it isn’t the usual demon who is walking you to their office.
And the office, matte black large double doors that seem to aggrandize the more you stare at it, seems to you the most daunting thing you’ve ever experienced, dreading what’s on the other side of the doors. The doors automatically swing open when the siren approaches, and a rich puff of aroma fills your senses – strongly smoked tea leaves, spices, and aged tannin from the great oak trees you spent your vacations under during summer camps. Immersive, sultry, powerful…frightening.
The creature beckons you to follow them inside, the doors slamming shut when you enter the threshold. If you were dreading the office's interior - perhaps a grotesque chamber too scary to imagine, then the reality only confuses you. Plush gray Persian rug you’re too scared to step on, mahogany desk sitting at the end of the room, a large fish tank built into one of the walls big enough to hold a shark. It would look like a standard luxury CEO office if it weren’t for the shelves of trinkets from collectible matchbooks to eyeless Sylvanian Family figures to mysterious chained and muffled floating orbs that stand behind the desk.
Taking a seat in front of the desk, you watch the siren slowly stalk behind the desk, perching itself in the leather executive chair to rifle through the files with its back turned towards you. Your hands find each other in your lap, folded together, the right thumb twiddling with the left. It is awfully quiet, and the atmosphere is just as bad as it was in the lounge. No part of you wants to spark a conversation, afraid that the slightest conversation error could send you on a one-way ticket into the depths of hell. Does their boss know they are sitting in their boss’ seat?
However, when the leather chair turns around, you see a man frowning at what you assume to be your file – your attendant long gone. He flicks away his remaining brown feathers, letting his disguise dissipate into thin air while craning his head to the left and right to stretch his neck. A tri-toned nameplate appears at the front of his messy desk, deep burgundy red with a black center dark enough that you could mistake it for a void. Written in gold is the name “Yoon Jeonghan,” and in a smaller font underneath is his official title.
The devil, as the plate reads, cocks an eyebrow at you through his long curtain bangs, causing you to take a craven stance – wincing and lowering your head so you don’t meet his eyes. Taking a page out of the file, he presses it against the desk and slides the page towards you, twisting it with his long nimble fingers in one smooth motion so the words face you upright.
“You summoned me via a crocheted sweater, a three-year-old three-wick seasonal autumnal candle that smells like pumpkin pie, and a tiny crushed packet of Prince Noodles you found at the back of your snack cabinet?” His voice is light and airy, but the terrifying smoothness and the seemingly innocuous nature of his tone only deceive the listener – he is a creature filled with malice and iniquity.
Slamming his palm against the table, he drags the page towards himself, creasing it with the strength and anger he exerts. The slapping sound causes you to flinch, and your eyes continue to stay trained on your lap, the shrill sound of the slap still ringing in your ears.
“Look at me,” he commands you in a low tone, a voice dipped in a thick vat of bubbling tar. “Summoning me with trash? Do I look like a joke to you?”
Scared you might combust into flames the moment you look at him, yet too scared to defy his command, you slowly lift your head to look at the man sitting across from you for the first time.
If his verbal command isn’t enough to evoke fear in the most draconian demons, perhaps his physical properties - his presence and his chiseled facial structure - command creatures differently. Dark brown eyes and thin-lipped, bottom lip slick and catching the light after he runs his tongue over it while scoffing at you, you have to admit the devil is strikingly handsome in his features. Pure sybarite from the decoration of his office to the decorations he wears, he outfits himself in leather garb. Fashionable thick leather blazer with a belt cinched around the waist, a silver chain dangles around his neck, sparkling in hues of red. And the horns that sit at the top of his head, dark crimson red with the shine of the waxy Red Delicious apples that stack in a pyramid under bright supermarket lights. Elephant tusk-like: thick, curved, and blunt. You wonder what it would feel like if he…
He appears before you in an instant, sitting at the edge of his desk, leaning over, and sandwiching you between his towering frame and the back of your chair. With an apparent smirk on his face, he enjoys watching you practically whimper underneath him, trembling in your seat. Irises expanding in size at exponential speeds is a clear tell, a giveaway of your need for him.
“You’re scared of me.” He points out with much effrontery while cocking his head, his face a mere few inches away from yours. He leans back with his arms crossed, planting himself firmly against his desk. “But you’re the one who summoned me, wanting to make a deal with me, right? So, no matter how scared you are of me, you’re still the boss and I’m your contract worker.”
“Contract worker?”
You can’t believe his words. He is agreeing to your stupid little request that you thought could never be fulfilled. Summoning a demon? Summoning the devil? It sounds like a quirky group activity to do at middle school sleepovers.
“You mean why did I agree to your request?”
You quickly nod your head in response.
“I’m a man with needs. And you’re a little angel who was brave enough to offer me a deal. It’s an obscene request that nobody of your kind has offered me for centuries - although, the last one perished with my touch…but you wouldn’t lie to me, right? Sweetheart?” He almost bats his long eyelashes with the pet name, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
The scene shifts almost theatrically – morphing from Jeonghan’s office to the tiny bedroom you were in about an hour ago. It seems real. All of it. The same putrid orange floorboards with dark knots that look like stains, hanging on the wall is a single bronze circular mirror your navy curtains slap against when the wind blows. You’re sitting in the middle of your bed, the old lumpy mattress you’ve been using since elementary school covered with the white checkered duvet set you found for free on some second-hand site. On the floor by the foot of the bed is a tiny space you made by pushing your jackets and plastic bags away, saved for summoning Jeonghan. Now, all that is left is soot, the Prince Noodles wrapper, and a now-stretched hand-made sweater.
Fucker. He is keeping the candle.
“It’s your first time so I can make you feel more comfortable – play on your turf. But the question is, can you take it? Can you take all of me? We can break it down into several sessions.” His suggestive tone is almost warmhearted. It almost makes you forget this is the first time you’ve met him. 
This situation would be laughable if it weren’t for the fact that you’re talking to the devil. You don’t know if he’s the type to laugh at bad jokes, but you weren’t going to test your hypothesis. 
“No,” you tell him. There’s only one thing on your mind. “One time.”
“You don’t realize what ‘all at once’ means, do you?”
Granted, if this were any other day with any other person, you would’ve faltered when this type of question kisses your ears. Doe-eyed, you watch him while sitting at the edge of your bed, a tiny nod in motion that makes him smile at you. The outer corners of his eyes crinkle, and he almost seems like a college boyfriend-esque type visiting your room for the first time - kind and patient, yet filled with corrupt thoughts.
He takes a seat next to you and proceeds to unbuckle the belt that cinches his waist. You’re too shy to stare at him while he undresses, but you can hear very clearly his garments hitting the floor one after another. The end of soft thuds and crinkles and a cool touch that turns your face to his, he holds your face in the palm of his right hand. So tender, yet his intentions are clearly laid out in the open.
“Why don’t you show me what pretty outfit you’re hiding underneath your sweater so I can show you what I mean?” his voice low, sending vibrations down to your core.
What you reveal underneath is a dainty two-piece. Thin lavender silk trim and clear organza with embroidered pastel flower details accentuate the cups that cover your breasts. The bottom matches the top, pulled high to your waistline. He hisses, forked tongue appearing for a split second before disappearing again.
“Contrary to what humans believe,” he mutters while holding one of your hands in his. “Angels don’t exist in this world. But at this moment…” He pushes a strand of hair away from your face, a subtle yet intimate gesture. He’s doing his best to prepare you for the worst without scaring you off, and you can’t help but to cling to him and seek refuge in his assuagement. “You’re the only Angel in front of me.”
Now you can see them more clearly. Dark brown eyes with bright specks of gold only a mere few inches away from yours. It makes you wonder how someone as beautiful as he can become the Devil. But he leaves no time for you to spare as he dips and plants his lips against yours. And you reciprocate with ardor, leaning back onto the bed as he changes his position so he is hovering, towering above you. His kisses are slow, focusing on making you feel good. Supple lips against your hot skin, he nips and licks at your flesh, leaving discolored hues of claret and magenta, him ravaging your untouched purity. And he takes the lead, grabbing your hands so they hug his neck so you can press him closer to you when you feel like it.
And you do. It excites you when learning how your body automatically reacts to him in need and lust: pulling him into your chest while feeling his soft skin rub against your lingerie, speeding up your kisses, and whining when you want more. He only smirks when he pulls away, looking at you from above and seeing your plump swollen lips and sexual frustration scintillating in your eyes. Your first hickeys on your neck and chest look like the beginnings of the first fallen leaves in the suburbs during Autumn. And you feel him grow against your core, a firm ball that waits to be unleashed with its owner’s command.
“Will my Angel be good for me?” He looks up at you while he traces the dainty straps that wrap around your skin, his pointer finger swirling around the yellow intricate embroidered flower that barely covers your nipple. The tip of the finger flicks against your rosy bud, and the feeling sends vibrations and shivers straight to your core. “Yes or no?”
“Yes,” you barely manage to whisper. “I’ll be good.”
“Then I’ll make you feel good.”
He bends down to kiss you again, this time with more fervor as if to mitigate any of your worries or concerns. But, strangely enough, you don’t. What is left behind in the trek to his office is replaced with new feelings of greed that you desperately want to have fulfilled during your nights alone. And the man who kisses down your body, pleasing you and praising you for reacting so well to his touch, seems multifarious enough to fulfill everything you dreamed about in secret.
When he reaches your core, it’s already uncomfortably wet. He seems to pay no mind as he pries away the lily embroidery that covers your cunt, cool finger briefly brushing against your skin to reveal your tender flesh that throbs underneath his gaze. Jeonghan starts slowly, prying your thighs apart with both of his hands. Firm grip on your skin, you whimper when he frowns at you for trying to shy away. Then you feel his lips planting pecks along your left inner thigh, making his way to your slick. 
If the way he kisses you is nothing but a lust-filled way of overcoming his workload, stress, and greed, then the way he eats you out is the complete opposite. Yoon Jeonghan doesn’t dive in head first after pushing you into the deep end; he holds your hand while guiding you into the pool, letting you adjust to the temperature of the water before swimming after him. Laps you up with the flat side of his tongue, long licks around your inner folds and swirls your core like a whirlwind, Jeonghan tsks when you start to close your thighs around his head without thinking. While telling you to behave, the low growl making you almost come on the spot, he pries your thighs apart. 
Firm grip and fingers digging into your skin, the Devil presses his tongue against the area you often frequented yourself at night, never thinking the day would come when someone else is able to visit. Forked tongue draws a heart down your slick, zigzags, paddles, and swims in your juices. It feels like two tongues are working you at once, and it makes you come twice as fast, your fingers gripping the bed sheets and your body jolting upwards. Supple lips close around where you feel the most sensitive, and he eats you out in a way that tells you that you would never be able to experience something like this in the future - not with him and definitely not with anybody else.
“Aah-ah fuck Jeonghan.” You squirm while he keeps his pace, wet sounds from beneath you filling your little room while he cleans up your aftermath. “Want more.”
“Aww my little Angel wants more?” He temporarily detaches his face from your cunt, red swollen lips glistening and glossed with your cum, to smirk at you. “Why don’t you look at me and beg for it?”
But he’s meticulous with continuously making you feel good. In the absence of his tongue, he replaces the emptiness with his fingers. Rubbing your nub in between his thumb and pointer finger, the Devil uses his other hand to rub himself - his hands prepping his long and pink organ. It takes a choked sob emitting from your mouth and your eyes rolling to the back of your head before you can even begin to think about looking him in the eye. And when you finally look him dead in the eye and trail to his raging member while letting out what he thinks are the prettiest and most deceivingly innocent whines, he finally understands your cupidity. 
So he thrusts his digits in your core, your panties now magically disappearing when he could’ve shrugged them off ages ago. Two long fingers fill your virgin hole, he scissors them while feeling your warm flesh contrast in reaction to his cold skin. Pointer fingers hook around your spongy G-spot, and he uses it as a sort of pulley, pulling him into you while your stomach tightens and squeezes with every quiver of his finger. You feel yourself soak his fingers, running down into his palms. He catches every drop with his tongue, licking his hands clean and then moving on to your cunt as he continues to finger you thoroughly.
He pulls his fingers apart, creating an opening to stick his tongue in you. Tonguing you, he savors your sweetness, sucking and thrusting his tongue deeper into you while he slides his fingers in and out of you. He fills you up until he runs out of room. You feel so corrupted, never expecting any person to make you feel so dirty, disgusting, yet so well-handled at the same time. You lust for more, to feel more as he smirks against your sex and reaches his open hand upwards to grab your breast. It feels plush and soft when he kneads it in between his fingers. Simply flicking his thumb over your sensitive nub sends shockwaves down to your core, and he surfaces with your cum dripping down his chin.
“How are you feeling?” he asks you, briefly leaning upwards to catch your lips in his mouth. “Can you take more? That was just to warm you up. Are you ready for me?” he mumbles against your lips.
The taste of yourself sits prominently in his mouth. You can taste yourself as you exchange another kiss with him, slowly winding down from your high.
“I- I want to try more.” You hear yourself openly admitting while he leaves tiny pecks along your collarbone. “It felt good.”
“Just good?” He looks up at you in feigned confusion. “Come on honey, I didn’t fuck you dumb just yet. I’m pretty sure you’re smart enough to come up with better adjectives. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I don’t know how to describe it.” You gasp when he moves away from your cover to latch his lips around your nipple. “I cam- I think I came several times, but I’m still horny.” The last part comes out in a sort of whisper as if you’re afraid you would be caught by somebody if you ever admitted to being horny out loud.
“Mmm.” He groans with your tit in his mouth. “Mmf. Nothing wrong with being horny. And you did come. Several times…but are you ready to come more?”
“Yes.” You’re feeling more confident. “I’m ready for more.”
“Even if I have to tie you down?” He pushes himself up so he kneels in front of you. “I’m afraid your human body can’t take what I’m about to give you.”
“I want to try,” you reply. “‘All at once,’ remember?”
“Okay Angel.” He smiles, leaning over to put his hand behind your head to bring you upright. “All at once.”
Your face is so close to his body that you can smell the muskiness of his sex. Right in front of you is his member. It’s your first time seeing one this closely, red and stiff, and a tiny bead of precum that rolls off the tip. You wonder how it would feel in the palm of your hands, how you would be able to fit all of it in your mouth.
“Take a good look at it, Angel. Touch it or suck it if you want,” his voice is gentle yet mischievous. “Don’t be scared. I can guide you. Take your chances before I spend the rest of our time disappearing in your cunt.”
Hesitantly, you bring your lips closer to his tip, opening your mouth wide enough so your lips close around the head. It’s smooth like a cool cherry-flavored popsicle on a hot summer day, yet there’s a certain softness to the organ. You stare up at him with his head in your mouth, and he simply nods, thrusting forward a little to tell you that you can continue. 
A tiny lick causes him to flinch and then gasp, his eyes fluttering as you lick him again more confidently. He breathes out a groan when you place a hand on his waist while the other grabs his length. Closing your eyes, you hollow your cheeks and guide him in and out of your mouth, sucking and licking as you go. 
And the raging and tantalizing ache in him can’t help but to grow and extend along his erection, growing hot in his stomach as he looks down at you trying your best to suck his dick. It makes him feral knowing that he’s your first - the first to corrupt you, to coat your thick and swollen lips with your saliva and his precum, and to watch you as you clench your thighs while sucking him off. Just thinking about your request and actually seeing you try to fit him in your mouth without gagging intoxicates him and makes his mind fuzzy. But before he can begin to process his dick hitting the cold air, he feels your mouth latch around one of his testicles, gently sucking while your hand kneads the other, and your other hand continues to pump him in your mouth’s absence. 
This time, he sees you wide-eyed and staring right at him. And when your eyes roll to the back of your head, he immediately snaps and spasms - shooting white liquid all over the bed sheets. 
“Lay back down,” he demands. 
Repositioning himself over your naked body, he wipes away a few splatter marks on your face and reapplies it to your open lips. It’s hard to concentrate on the new salty taste when the Devil is staring intently into your eyes while his hands roam your body, touching and flicking. 
He asks you about punishments for making him come without warning - something about how he should prolong your virginity, a concept that you wanted him to take away. 
…it’s just a social construct used to belittle others, the contract states. But if anybody is going to take it away, then it has to be the Devil himself. 
“This might hurt a little,” he tells you. 
Invisible ropes drag your hands above your head and tie your thighs to your bed. Making sure you’re secure Jeonghan quips, “In case you try to run away.”
You can barely see what he’s doing from your angle. His dick is slowly becoming hard again, so you think he’s going to eat you out in the meantime. But nothing can prepare you for what comes next. 
It feels cold and warm, a long tubular shape slowly digging and nudging itself into your cunt. Yet, you don’t feel the same wetness you felt when he stuck his tongue in your cunt. The figure pulls in and out, sliding and squelching with every thrust. Your mouth drops open, letting tiny soundless exhales fall out of your mouth. A burning sensation builds up at the bottom of your stomach, causing you to lurch and struggle against your binds. Jeonghan only chuckles from underneath you, his face shrouded by his hair. It’s only when he pushes deep, causing you to yell his name when you realize the object he pushes into you. 
What fucks your cunt in a steady rhythm is the same crimson red, elephant-tusk-like horn that sits on top of Jeonghan’s head. He slightly turns his head so the thick and curved object hits you in the right spot, causing you to struggle, moan, and breathe heavily. 
“What a twisted angel,” Jeonghan grunts. “You didn’t think I would be able to read your thoughts? You didn’t think the Devil would be able to listen in on every single dirty thought that came across that pretty little head of yours?”
“Fuck. P-please Jeonghan,” you whine through gritted teeth. “Want your dick.” 
“No.” His tone is flat. “I’m not horny yet. Hearing you whine and mewl about how good I make you feel ”
“N-No,” you manage to say. “Can’t wh-whine if you’re choking me.”
Your invitation causes him to immediately pull out of you, therefore causing you to lurch forward with a gasp and fall back down when you’re stopped by your binds. It’s a lot clearer now, his wet red horn and the hair matted down by your juices. Still, there is nothing that could make the man in front of you become an eyesore. 
He’s objectifyingly beautiful - now not as downright terrifying as you thought him to be. Your little push of confidence, although a bit passive, goes a long way as he bends down once again to catch you between his lips, kissing you feverishly as his left hand slowly works its way to loop around your neck. 
It’s a new feeling, feeling the pressure of his palm against your neck. The pressure is light - not how Jeonghan would’ve liked to choke you, but enough so the concept doesn’t scare you away. Gently squeezing the sides of your esophagus, Jeonghan removes his lips from yours so he can see you clearly. Chin lifted up and your eyes glossed over, you seem to him to be needier than ever. He watches you as your struggle against his invisible binds, hips thrusting in the air. 
“Please Jeonghan.” You struggle against his hand. “Please. I’m ready. I’ve been ready. Please-”
“Beg.”
“Fuck,” you breathe out. “I’m begging. Please.”
He adds a little more pressure around your esophagus, making you struggle and almost come on the spot. “More.”
“W-want t-to see your pre- ah fuck pretty face lose its beauty when you bend over me while fucking me hard. I want you to be mean to me and pull my hair so my back arches while you pound into me from behind. Make my thighs quiver and tremble as my knees go red. Use me until I’m left with nothing but tears.”
“I can make you cry.” He lets go of your throat, tsk-ing at the fading soft pink imprint left behind on your skin. “But not in the way you described…You’ll be leaking from somewhere else, Angel.”
You breathe his words in like an airy aphrodisiac, filling your lungs and clouding your brain with blissful jubilation. But the tears. The tears fall when he slowly pushes into you, cooing and soothing you while you cling onto him, fingernails digging red welts into his bare back while you struggle to adjust to his size. The stinging pain feels like no other, but fuck does it feel good to have him inside you. 
Wrapping your legs around his waist, he bends over you and whispers in your ear, “Keep tightly clenching around me before I can properly fuck you and you’ll never be able to leave Hell. Understand?”
“Yes,” you reply, hissing when he pulls back.
Then he starts pushing slowly back into you, savoring how your walls etch and hug his ridges, savoring how your eyes immediately roll to the back of your head in response to your pleasure. Another thrust, faster this time. He plagues you with need, making you practically fuck him yourself by angling your legs on the bed so you can push yourself into him over and over again. He pinches your nipple in anger, but it only sends a lewd string of pain straight to your core. You find it pleasurable, your nerves heightened to a new level. 
So he puts his hands around your waist and tells you his name again - because that’s the only thing you’ll remember after he’s done with you. 
He ruts into you over and over again, harshly and quickly. The only sounds filling your tiny bedroom are your hiccups that complement the sound of his skin slapping against yours. Your whole body jerks and rocks with every thrust, your bed no longer standing in the same place, now slightly askew. He doesn’t even give you time to recover when you cum on his cock, your belly tightening, releasing, and then tightening again in a matter of a few seconds. 
“Whore,” he sneers. “Look at you, all fucked out underneath me. You can’t help but come multiple times, can you?”
He rubs your clit while pounding into you, watching you writhe in pleasure underneath him, very well unable to respond to his rhetorical question. 
“And you want me to pound into you from behind?” He mockingly laughs out loud. “All that talk but you can’t even form a word. Form a word then. Try forming a word before I cum.” 
But another wave swells in your abdomen, causing you to jerk forward in reaction. Your body feels sweaty and sore, but the pleasure rolls in waves - building in you and ejecting out of you like a consistent ebb and flow. Every single bite, flick, and word that comes out of him only breaks you even more. And you topple like a house of cards, reduced to nothing but his personal fucktoy. 
He chases his own orgasm when he feels like it, pushing into you deeply and thrusting one last time by hitting your walls so he can slowly milk his seed as he rolls his hips. And when he pulls out, he watches his liquid slowly collect at your entrance, threatening to spill out. Your body still twitches in his absence, your aftershocks squeezing and making his seed drip and run out of you. 
Your eyes are blurry, body is sore with tiny cartoonish stars floating and rotating above your head. You can’t expect the Devil to stay. He had done enough for you, more than you could ever imagine. It takes everything in you to bring yourself to whisper his name one last time before you feel him leave your side. 
On the floor where you summoned him is an invitation to summon him again:
Whenever you’re ready. He writes. I’ll make you crawl. -YJH, The Devil
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samiiy20 · 9 months
Text
✩ 𝗞𝗶𝗺 𝗛𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗷𝗼𝗼𝗻𝗴 (𝐟𝐭. 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗦𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗵𝘄𝗮) ✩
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𝖯𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: Kim Hongjoong x fem! reader x Ex bf! Park Seonghwa 𝗚𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗿𝗲: Smut 𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 3.1k 𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: Threesome, unprotected sex (don't do it), jealousy, oral sex, eating cum, creampies. (I apologize if I forgot something) 𝗦𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: Hongjoong had a little surprise for you to enjoy the night, but you never expected it to include your ex-boyfriend.
N/A: First, I'm glad that this writing is the first fic of the year. Second, I can't stop watching the MV that these two released, so boom! I didn't sleep for two days thinking about this jsjsjs but I hope you like it <3
masterlist II tag list
This content NOT is for minors!!!
This is merely entertainment, this does not represent any real person.
It is forbidden to copy or translate my work.
English NO is my first language.
You had been dating Hongjoong for a while now, but it wasn't anything formal, you liked hanging out with him when you had nothing to do, he fulfilled your every whim without asking for anything in return, and the sex with him was fantastic. You felt comfortable without commitments, anyway you weren't looking for something serious with someone after the damage your ex left behind.
"You are busy? Are you busy?" You sighed looking at the mess in the kitchen and grabbed your phone before answering Hongjoong.
“No, actually I'm finishing eating but…”
“It tasted horrible?” A moan confirming his suspicions caused his laughter to be heard over the speaker. “Do you want to come?”
“I don't know, I have some things to do tomorrow and…”
“Please” think for a moment and before saying anything continue “Maybe we can enjoy dessert.”
You laughed a little because you knew what it meant but you were tired, maybe you deserved a break.
“But come for me.”
"Deal "
After almost an hour (enough time to clean up the mess in the kitchen and put on anything) Hongjoong was outside leaning against his car smoking a cigarette. When you approached him he smiled giving you a quick look up and down and you couldn't help but feel nervous.
“As beautiful as ever,” you rolled your eyes, snatching the cigarette from his fingers before taking a drag and smiling.
" you're a liar"
“Give me a kiss” You hit him in the chest and he took your hand, cornering you between the car and his body “just one.”
“It's never just one with you” he raised his shoulders smiling and you sighed before looking around and joining your lips in a quick kiss, but Hongjoong slid his hands along your waist until he reached your butt and squeezed it “Stop it, someone might see us.”
Hongjoong laughed and opened the door for you, he waited for you to get in before doing the same and starting the car. The whole way he was giving you looks and letting his hand rest on your thigh, caressing your skin a little, but it only made your body start to light a small flame inside you.
“Do you remember what you said the other day?”
"No"
“When were we in bed?”
“Joong says a lot of things and I forget half of them” actually you did remember, although you didn't know what he was referring to, you had said a couple of frustrated fantasies, but you were pretending not to, it was very embarrassing to accept it now that you were sane.
“Well, I have a surprise for you.”
“You know I don't like surprises,” you replied, crossing your arms when he turned off the car engine. Hongjoong turned to look at you and took your face in his hands.
“You might like this one” his words made you nervous but at the same time curiosity took over you.
Hongjoong was a person who liked to experiment, he was not closed to any idea and had even fulfilled a couple of your fantasies, he had taught you a few things that you didn't know you might like and you were eager to know what he had in store for you.
When they arrived at the apartment it seemed strange to you that the lights were on, but you didn't say anything and before you could question it he covered your eyes with his hands and placed a kiss on your neck.
“Don't do that… I can't see” you tried to remove his hands but his breath made your skin crawl, leaving you still.
“Shhh… let me guide you precious”
Your senses were turned off when he placed his lips on your neck and his tongue ran a path to your shoulder while he made you walk slowly forward. You let out a low moan as you felt his teeth dig into your skin.
"Are you ready?"
“No,” Hongjoong’s laughter echoed in your head and nerves tickled your entire body. Hongjoong's hands slowly discovered your eyes and as your vision adapted to the light again you could notice a strange figure in the place.
When you were finally able to see what it was, you froze. Of all the things you thought Hongjoong had prepared, you never imagined seeing your ex-boyfriend sitting calmly with a smile on his face. No, this had to be a fucking joke. You rubbed your eyes thinking you were hallucinating but he was still there.
“Seonghwa?”
“Hi doll,” your ex responded, widening his smile even more.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
"What is this? they know each other?" Hongjoong asked confused.
“No” you responded. “Yes” Seonghwa said at the same time.
You turned around heading towards the door but Hongjoong stood in your way.
“This was your surprise?” you asked angrily
“I don't know what you're talking about, I didn't even know they knew each other, I don't know who he is… well yes but…”
“Ahhh of all the people in the world you chose him?”
“I'm still here,” Seonghwa said, approaching you and you avoided seeing him.
“You…” you turned to where he was and put a finger on his chest, “how did you get here? Do you still want to continue ruining my life? "Isn't what you did enough for you?"
“I'm sorry, okay? I told you it was a misunderstanding but you never let me explain it.”
“Enough,” Hongjoong exclaimed, full of the whole situation. “I don't know what matters you have between you, but I think we should calm down.”
It took Hongjoong a while to convince you to stay and talk calmly while they clarified the situation, but although you finally gave in, you were uneasy with Seonghwa's presence. The three of them sat at the table and Hongjoong made them talk in turns. You sighed, threatening your ex with your eyes and told him your story.
“We were a couple a while ago…”
“Six months,” Seonghwa interrupted you.
“Anyway, we broke up, but that part wasn't very nice so I made my life and then I met you and blah blah blah, things happened and now I'm here, in front of this idiot.”
“Anything to say Seonghwa?” Your ex opened his mouth but denied before looking at you.
“How did you meet?”
“That doesn't matter to you,” you responded aggressively as you crossed your legs and looked away. “How did you two meet?”
"What difference does it make?"
“Stop it, you're both tiring me out.” Hongjoong dropped into the chair and sighed, looking at them both. He had no idea what trouble he'd gotten himself into just for wanting to have a little fun with his favorite people, but here he was having to put up with their complaints. “I met Seonghwa like I did with you okay?” at the bar, it was actually a week after you, you both vented about your problems but I never imagined they would talk about each other, I didn't even know they knew each other, I thought it was a good idea to bring him because I thought he was your type and you would enjoy more, but ahhhh I never imagined this”
You felt a little bad for Hongjoong, he just wanted to fulfill one more of your fantasies and ended up getting into a weird mess. You caressed his hand and without looking at your ex you stood up and hugged him from behind.
"It's not your fault"
“Yeah, whatever, don't feel bad,” Seonghwa said to help you, “she wouldn't be able to handle it anyway.”
You threatened Seonghwa with your look, you didn't want to talk to him but her words hurt your ego, you had been with both men before, you knew them better than anyone and you dared to say that you couldn't handle them? Who did he think he was?
"What do you mean?" The voice is more aggressive than you intended but Seonghwa's smile only made it harder for you to contain yourself “I can't handle you? I’ll show you, idiot.”
Without paying attention to your ex you climbed onto Hongjoong's lap and he held your hips before you could continue.
“You don't have to do it if you don't want to.”
“I want” You responded before bringing his lips together as you pulled him into the most passionate kiss you had given him before, mixing your tongues and letting his teeth collide. Your hands passed over his chest and slowly went down to slide over the delicate shirt he was wearing.
"Is that all you have?" You rolled your eyes, separating yourself from Hongjoong and wiggling your hips in his lap while locking your gaze with Seonghwa who had stood near him. You grabbed him by the edge of his pants and made him take another step. Before he continued speaking, you raised your hand to reach the collar of his jacket and bring it closer to your mouth.
“You don't know when to shut up, right?” You felt Seonghwa's labored breathing on your lips and you noticed his dilated pupils. “Accept that you still like me, idiot.”
"And what?"
Your memories came back for a split second and you remembered the reason why you decided to break up with him, you were still angry for seeing him kiss your best friend but you had to accept that you still had feelings for him, the years at his side were something that You would never forget, how could you forget all that love, desire and passion that you felt every time you saw him. And now that they were face to face those feelings blossomed again.
“I hate you” you whispered before pulling him into your mouth and delving into his lips, they were just like you remembered them, sweet and fluffy.
Hongjoong had gotten lost in the feeling of your hips grinding against his clothed cock that he almost forgot about you. He dug into the crook of your neck leaving a red mark on his making you moan into Seonghwa's mouth causing your fingers to tangle through his long hair.
He broke away from the kiss, seeing your eyes full of lust when Hongjoong removed your shirt, freeing your breasts. “Come here,” he snatched you from the hungry mouth of his friend, tasting your skin.
Hongjoong laughed when he saw them and to think that a few minutes ago they didn't even want to see each other. He sighed, feeling the pressure in his pants as he watched them devour each other's mouths and their hands touching each other's bodies, peeling off the layers of clothing they were wearing until they were almost naked.
“Let's go to the room.”
When they finally closed the doors, you threw yourself at Hongjoong, also helping him to free himself from his clothes, leaving kisses along his neck and slowly going down his abdomen to the edge of his boxers, you pushed him on the bed and he smiled, settling in the center when he saw Seonghwa approaches from behind.
You settled between Hongjoong's legs, leaving his erection free of him as you gave Seonghwa a look as you spread your legs and raised your butt. You turned your attention to Hongjoong's dripping cock and ran your tongue over the tip of it before taking it into your mouth and hearing a muffled moan leave his chest.
You were so focused on sucking Hongjoong's cock that you almost forgot about your ex, but when he came up behind you and ran his fingers through your wet panties you closed your eyes before sucking his cock into your mouth again.
Seonghwa was so eager to have you again that he could barely keep his composure, even worse if you gave him a full view of your ass and wet pussy. It took strength from the depths of his being not to collapse at that moment and he slid your panties down to see your pussy, he moaned when he saw it up close again, he couldn't wait to taste the sweet nectar that he hadn't tasted in months.
He pressed his lips to your pussy and held your breath when you felt his tongue. Hongjoong shivered from the vibrations in your throat and didn't want you to stop so he grabbed a handful of your hair and pushed your head back onto his cock.
"I thought you could handle this" you gave yourself some time to breathe but when Seonghwa put two fingers in your pussy you could only moan in Hongjoong's face "are you enjoying it?"
You nodded, letting yourself be carried away by the pleasure that Seonghwa's fingers gave you while you continued moving his tongue in circles over your clit.
You approach Hongjoong's lips to stifle your moans but he grabs your hair, guiding you back to where you were.
Your movements were slow, you could feel your legs starting to shake and you couldn't continue holding the knot in your stomach. Seonghwa knew you were close to him so he continued pumping his fingers putting in a third while he licked your pussy.
Tears began to build up in your eyes but Hongjoong continued to push your head down when he felt a shock on his cock. You heard Seonghwa laugh behind you as he decided he wouldn't let you finish but you didn't have time to think about that as you felt Hongjoong's load in your throat and you tasted it.
Your tears spilled down your face when you could breathe and Hongjoong caressed your face, drying them.
"Poor dear, did you want to cum?" More tears fell from your eyes.
"yes…yes"
Seonghwa felt a pang in his chest when he saw his friend caress your hair and lay you down on the bed. He couldn't help but beat her to the spot and smile at her trying to apologize, but in reality he was jealous.
"Understand me, I haven't had it in a long time."
Hongjoong raised his hands and nodded, hiding the small anger that formed in his chest, yet he settled behind you, placing his chest on your back and gave Seonghwa a challenging look.
"All yours" he said mockingly knowing it was a lie.
Seonghwa rolled his eyes but when he saw your naked body, jealousy took a backseat, now what he wanted was to feel you again and hear you moan his name.
He positioned himself between your legs and lined up his cock at your entrance watching your tearful face.
"You're very bad hwa" Seonghwa swallowed hard as he heard you tell him how before and he let go of the reins, letting yourself be carried away by you.
He sank inside and pressed you against Hongjoong's chest, you had forgotten how big he was but he made you moan feeling so full.
"I missed you, doll," he whispered to you as you got used to him again, tears still adorning your face and he wiped them away before bringing his lips together, tasting you on them.
“I…” your words stuck in your throat as he gave the first push “I didn't miss you”
"I don't need you to tell me, your body speaks for itself"
Seonghwa started to move his hips and you bit your lips when you felt Hongjoong's hands play with your nipples as he planted wet kisses along your neck, but Seonghwa bit your shoulder on the other side.
You closed your eyes, letting yourself be carried away by all the sensations in your body, the boys' lips on your neck, Hongjoong's hands as they went down to your clit and Seonghwa's hips colliding with yours, your breathing uneven, your legs shaking, everything. It was too much that you couldn't take it anymore.
Without warning you released yourself onto Seonghwa's cock.
"Hwa…Fuck"
"Yes honey keeps saying my fucking name"
The overstimulation was killing you, you wanted to say something but you didn't know what, you just wanted it to never stop. You put your head on Hongjoong's shoulders trying to breathe but Seonghwa's thrusts were killing you.
"Come on beautiful, just a little more" his words did not comfort you but you nodded, letting him also move his hips behind you.
You moaned louder as you felt his fingers on your clit, you felt the tears in your eyes and you looked at Seonghwa when he approached your lips and you accepted it by placing your hands on his shoulders and marking his skin.
Seonghwa was close and you could feel his cock throbbing inside you, he sank in a few more times before releasing his load and laying down on your chest, but Hongjoong continued to touch your sensitive clit making you wrap your legs around your ex's hips as you ran your nails down his back and let your head rest on Hongjoong's shoulder to kiss him when your second orgasm swept over you.
The three of you stood in silence recovering from the heat of the moment, you didn't know what had just happened but you didn't care, you had enjoyed it more than you would like to admit.
“Are you okay, beautiful?” You nodded without speaking and let go of Seonghwa's body, turning your back to him. With the little strength you had left, you climbed onto Hongjoong's cock and moved your hips slowly. “Aren't you tired?”
"i... want more"
Hongjoong lifted your hips and started pounding your pussy hard as he met Seonghwa's gaze. It was more than evident that he was resentful but it wasn't his problem for being an idiot, now he would have to see how he made you moan his name.
You wouldn't last long, but you tried hard to hold on to the knot in your stomach but it was getting stronger and your body was getting weaker with each stroke of Hongjoong's cock.
“Joong… I'm close.”
You lost track of reality when you felt the liquid from your body running down your thighs, you closed your eyes letting Hongjoong use your body for his pleasure and once he also freed himself he carefully laid you down on the bed and held your breath as you see how the mixture of the three ran through your used pussy.
Seonghwa licked his lips and without anyone telling him, he tasted the mixture, making your body react, but before he could continue, Hongjoong stopped him.
“Stop it, she's tired.” Seonghwa looked at him and suppressed the strange urge he had to push him and smiled. “You better go.”
"No"
They were both surprised but without saying anything Seonghwa lay down next to you and caressed your hair.
"You still miss me"
“Shut up idiot” you said smiling and extending your hand for Hongjoong to join in, he sighed before doing so and placing his hand on your waist “Thanks for the surprise Joong”
“Yeah, whatever, I hope you enjoyed it” You laughed a little before snuggling between them and taking a long rest.
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dat-town · 2 months
Text
yours truly
Characters: fate!Sunghoon (prince of hearts) & mortal!female reader
Setting & genre: caravalverse au, fantasy, forbidden romance
Summary: “... ballads don’t end happily, and neither do the two of us.” ‒ Stephanie Garber
Warnings: Sunghoon’s character is canon-typically mean and flirty in the beginning, blood, dagger and arrow-caused injuries, mentions of people dying, ambiguous ending
Words: 2.9k
Playlist: moonstruck, criminal love, fatal trouble, still monster, lucifer, fate
Author’s note: for those who haven’t read the books, just imagine a world where deity-like creatures called fates walk among mere humans; for those who did read the books, imagine this as an alternative for the plot, the worldbuilding is the same but the actual romance plays out different since Sunghoon is NOT Jacks, just a different Prince of Hearts. i know personality-wise it’s very not Sunghoon-like but i chose him for visual reasons #theplot
for @restlessmaknae because you worked hard and i believe that you will see its results <3
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The Prince of Hearts was exactly how the stories described him: devastatingly handsome and infuriatingly wicked.
The first time you met him, he just broke a naive girl’s heart.
The Prince of Hearts was the hopeless lovers’ Fate. Many turned to him to fulfill their hearts’ desire or get revenge on their unfaithful significant other but there was a reason why he had always been portrayed with bloody tears running down his sculpture-like face and his perfect lips pulled up in a cunning smirk.
“What did you do?” You heard the girl’s trembling, frightened cry over the garden fountain’s lovely bubbling sound and you could tell she didn’t notice you on the other side of the installment. She must have dragged the young man out of the celebration to have a word with him privately. Too bad it was your hiding place.
“Exactly what you asked from me. I made sure he can never look at another girl again,” the man replied in a silky smooth voice, his tone almost melodic. He must have sung lovely lullabies, you thought, but then he continued and his voice turned something dark, something poisoned and sickly amused. “Or at anything for that matter.”
There was a cruel laugh carried by the night breeze and your eyes widened, thoughts running wild.
“This isn’t what I wanted,” the girl protested weakly between sobs but no use, it didn’t seem to affect the man at all.
“Isn’t it? Then you should have asked more… precisely,” he scoffed and with a rustle of clothes you could tell he turned around, ready to leave.
“But… but I kept my side of the bargain. You are a Fate, you should keep your word, too!”
You sucked in a breath because you didn’t have to guess much to know which Fate she was talking about. There was an infamous one for broken hearts.
“Are you seriously accusing me of not fulfilling my part?” The Prince of Hearts spoke up again and this time you could hear anger bubbling up beneath the boredom in his tone. He spoke quietly yet every word of his punctured like bites of a viper. “You wanted your lover to not look at other girls, so I took his sight. Would you have preferred if I plunked his eyeballs out? Or even better, if I simply killed him? Is that it?”
The girl’s crying turned pathetic and you almost felt bad for her even if she should have known better than to make a deal like that. Fates tended to take more than what they had promised.
“Look at you, a sobbing mess. Is your great love really only enough for this? Will you leave him now that he’s blind? Who’s the unfaithful one now?” The ageless creature tsked, his harsh words enough to make the girl run, crying and devastated. The air was once again filled with silence and crickets chirping. Out of curiosity, you quietly stood up from where you sat in the fountain’s shadow but you could see nobody on the other side of the monument. You let out a small sigh, turning back around only to gasp in surprise.
Right in front of you, barely an arm-length away was the most beautiful man you had ever seen. He had porcelain skin and elegant features, artfully tousled raven black hair and almond shaped eyes reflecting the moon. His mouth was pulled into a lopsided smile as he leaned closer, resting his hand on the fountain’s rim beside your waist.
“You know, I can hear your heartbeat, love,” he said, syrupy sweet, and you had to deliberately remind yourself to breathe properly. “It beats rapidly like a trapped bird’s wings. Is it because of fear or attraction? Both?” The Fate arched a brow, provoking.
“I’m not playing your game,” you raised your chin with more confidence that you actually felt in yourself but you didn’t back down, not even when the young man’s eyes burned through you.
“Too bad. I didn’t even tell you the rules yet,” he pouted but he seemed more amused than anything else.
“Are all Fates this bored?”
“There’s a better question, love; are all Fates forgiving towards this blunt attitude of yours?” The Prince of Hearts raised a brow, challenging, his breath fanning over your cheek, his closeness painting it a rosy color. There was something predatory in the way he looked at you and your rabbit of a heart wished nothing but to run. Then he abruptly pulled away, his frown melting into an all too sweet smile.  “But see, I’m a gentleman and I will let it go. For now.”
The threat was clear in his velvet voice and the shine of his midnight dark eyes. It took your breath away and you only let out the air you were holding in when he walked out of sight, your heart still beating crazily as you watched him disappear like smoke in the dark.
The next time you met him, you were smarter than to walk into his trap. This time you were actually looking for him because you were about to do what you had never imagined yourself to: gamble for a Fate’s help.
But really, this was your last resort. No matter how many reasons and proofs you had listed, your best friend was dead set on marrying a duke with no land and no morals. He just wanted her for her family’s money but she didn’t believe you. She even told you that if you weren’t happy for her, you weren’t welcome at the wedding. So you had to make sure the wedding didn’t happen, that she realized that her fiancé was a selfish bastard. It was the perfect kind of job for the Prince of Hearts since he seemed to hate other people’s happiness. No wonder even his Destiny Deck card’s meaning was unrequited love and irrevocable mistakes.
As you opened the church's gate, your sister’s voice echoed in your ears. She had told you not to make deals with Fates but if you must, always make sure to double guess the meaning behind their words and not let them have leverage over you. She had known after having her own deal with the Jester Mad. Fates weren’t evil nor saints but as ageless deities, they had different moral compasses than mere mortals. They also lived a long, long life, so what could have been more fun for them than playing with human feelings?
Back in the days, Fates had been private creatures hidden from plain sight. People had built churches and altars for them, waiting for their miracles to happen. But then one day, the Fates disappeared. Nobody knew why or where. There were countless rumors but it didn’t matter because eventually they returned and they weren’t hiding anymore. The Poisonmaker kept wreaking havoc at events where drinking was involved, the Maiden Death started warning people about their loved ones’ dying in the middle of the main square and the Prince of Hearts had heads turning at every noble gathering pretty much in the entire country based on the rumors. Whispers followed his trail, so you knew exactly where to find him.
“Looks like wind blew a little birdie my way,” you heard the familiar smooth voice from behind you once you dropped your golden coins into the well inside the old marble church. You spun around, facing the Fate and you hated the instant effect he had on you. The way his mere presence was enough to weaken you. You tried focusing on the tiniest details on his face to keep yourself grounded like the moles adorning his cheeks, his defined eyebrows or the way the skin around his pretty eyes wrinkled when his mouth pulled into an amused smile. Your heart was a traitor once again.
“Missed me?” He teased, further decreasing the distance between you. He didn’t even touch you yet his closeness set the air around you on fire and you desperately tried to find purchase on the edge of the well, your well kept nails digging into the stone.
“I have a favor to ask,” you forced out and recited the entire monologue you had practiced with all the details in order to make sure there was no loophole in your request. You couldn’t have your best friend getting hurt because of you. You just wanted to get rid of her fiancé subtly. So you came prepared and judging by the almost impressed look on the Fate’s face and the pondering tilt of his head, he must have noticed too.
“Oh, you’re actually a smart one,” he mused out loud, a chuckle escaping him. “It sounds exactly like my kind of fun but you don’t think I’m doing it without a price, right? So are you ready to pay, love?”
You expected it, of course, there was always a price to pay. A bargain with both parties committing to something. You thought you were ready for anything the Prince of Hearts could ask of you: your reputation tarnished, memories of your first love destroyed, cursing you to never love again but maybe you were naive. Because in that moment he looked at you hungrily, eyes dark and tempting. He darted out his tongue, wetting his lips as he angled his face over yours, still not even grazing against your skin, yet you could feel yourself shiver.
For a moment you were sure he would kiss you. That he would kill you.
Because the thing with Fates was that all of them were cursed in one way or another. As for the Prince of Hearts, his kiss was fatal to all but his one true love. They said it was worth dying for and so many naive girls wanted to be the one to break this hex, he left a trail of corpses behind him.
“Not yet, love,” the Fate taunted as he swiped his thumb across your lower lip, leaving tingles behind, and you felt incredibly embarrassed for thinking he would actually kiss you. Gosh, you weren’t normally like this.
“What do you want?” You found your voice after pushing the silently laughing man away from you. You needed space, you needed to focus. You came to save your best friend’s future, not to kiss murderers no matter how much they erupted a garden of butterflies in your stomach.
“Let me be your plus one for the wedding and I promise to make sure your precious friend realizes her mistake before tying the knot. No bodily harm, no future consequences, yadda yadda,” the Prince of Hearts mocked your way of negotiating your conditions and you squinted your eyes because it sounded too good to be true.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it,” he flashed you a charming smile before leaning in close again, this time his breath fanning over your ears, teeth grazing against your skin, leaving goosebumps behind. “Oh and call me Sunghoon.”
The Prince of Hearts kept his word and you started to wonder whether he wanted to accompany you to the wedding because he wanted to see the drama he caused in person. He seemed rather amused when both the duke’s creditors and mistresses showed up and your best friend threw a vase at him.
It was naive of you to think so though, of course the Fate came on his own accord for his own ulterior motives. You didn’t even know that the infamous Witch of North, holder of the Fated object of the Unbitten Fruit, would be at the wedding but Sunghoon sure knew. He disappeared from sight in the middle of the chaos and you could only find him after calming your best friend down. The wedding hall was empty and broken into pieces and in the middle of it all, surrounded by blackened rose petals, there he laid like a beautiful fallen angel. His white shirt was snug over his broad shoulders and where his wings would have laid, blood spread like wine on tragic days.
“Oh my fates,” you mumbled as you rushed to his side.
Fates had once been immortals but even since their re-appearance, they were merely ageless and could be killed and while you shouldn’t have cared, something didn’t let you let him bleed out. Maybe it was because he just helped your friend like he had promised or because you had always been weak for the helpless ones even if the Fate was nothing but one.
“What happened?” You asked with trembling lips, pressing a torn piece of your skirt onto the bleeding wound on his side.
“Somebody wasn’t too happy that I said hello,” Sunghoon croaked a smile, still all too arrogant even with blood on his lips and pain on his features when his own laughter made him hiss.
“Do you have many enemies?”
“Enemies is all I have,” he said, reaching for the buttons of his blood-soaked shirt to get rid of it and you could feel your face flush at the sudden exposure of bare skin and toned stomach. But trust the Prince of Hearts to tease you even in his stabbed state. “No need to be so shy, love, you can look.”
You cleared your throat and hardened your gaze, looking him in the eye, unwavering. You accidentally applied a bit more pressure on his injury though because his face suddenly distorted in agony.
“Actually, there’s a vial in my front pocket. Would you be kind enough to pour its content on the wound?” He spoke up again, softer, a bit of breathlessness in his usually smooth voice and if it wasn’t for that, you would have believed he was still teasing.
But you actually found a potion in his pocket and once the liquid contacted his torn skin, it started healing at an amazing speed. Oh, so he came prepared, you realized and it made you smack his chest hard. He made you worry for nothing. So stupid of you.
Sunghoon caught your wrist and pulled it over his unbeaten heart, laughing at you. You should have been angry and yet, it was the most beautiful chime of bells you had ever heard.
That should have been the last time you saw the Prince of Hearts but he kept showing up. He kept bothering you at balls, scaring away suitors, stealing apples at the market you had to pay for. He found your reluctance and annoyance amusing, poking fun at the way your heartbeat spiked in his company. He put flowers in your hair, called you love like he meant it and touched you briefly only to make you crave more. You thought it was all just a joke for him because he was bored and you weren’t as easy as the other girls but then you were bleeding out and he looked ready to burn the whole world down.
It was a typical case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. You were just in the way. It wasn’t meant for you but the arrow pierced through your chest nevertheless.
You coughed up blood, barely catching your breath, when Sunghoon caught you in his arms before you could have fallen onto the flower bed beneath. Deliriously you looked up at him in wonder, at Death’s most beautiful angel. 
“You’re not dying,” he told you through gritted teeth but his voice was torn, feelings you didn’t recognise scratching the surface.
“They say you can’t feel, not because you have no heart but because it stopped beating long ago. Is it true?” You forced out weakly as you put a hand over Sunghoon’s chest just over where his heart was still as always. “I wonder what kind of girl it was, the one who broke your heart.”
All Fates were humans once and their assigned traits and powers were aligned with how they had been once as mortals. It was silly but you couldn’t help being jealous of the girl who had once held his affection because the way he looked at you then made you feel like nothing else mattered to him but you.
You knew that Fates felt everything in extremes. They didn’t hold grudges, they took revenge. They didn’t know love, they only knew obsession. Yet so many made the mistake of falling in love with a Fate and you couldn’t find it in yourself to blame them. Not anymore. Not when the Prince of Hearts’ hands were stained with your blood but you wanted nothing more than to succumb to this overwhelming feeling of being held by him.
“Kiss me,” you whispered, feeling faint. You were dying anyways, it couldn’t have hurt more to try. Because what if it was true, what if true love’s kiss could cure all curses, what if he had been looking for you all this time?
“Love…” Sunghoon’s voice was ruined. It was just a word yet a plea at the same time. A simple word you associated with your name ever since you had first met him.
His eyes shining like bright stars in the night sky were the last thing you saw before your eyelids fluttered close. Tears streamed down your face or blood, you couldn’t tell, but the lips on yours tasted metallic like iron and the sweet taste of the forbidden fruit. Like sin and redemption at the same time. Like you were his in this fairytale and he was yours. Yours truly.
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hufflepuffwriter1995 · 3 months
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The Witches Vow
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Summary: A witch's vow is dangerous, and not to be taken lightly. Not even death can break a witch's vow, if the witch cannot make good on their vow their soul will never find peace. I knew this, but when Taehyung, my dearest friend, is sold to a man with evil in his soul, I make a frantic witch's vow to find him. Little did I know that when I finally got reunited with Taehyung, it would only be the start of it all. 
  Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x Fem!WitchReader 
  Themes: Found Family, Poly Relationship, Hurt and Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Strangers to Lovers, Hybrid AU, Fantasy, Supernatural, Magic 
  Warnings: Hurt, Angst, Mentions of Abuse, Mentions of Sexual Assault, Injury and Hurt, Witchcraft and magic, hybrids being pets, eventual smut,
  Rating: 18+ 
Notes: This is the revamped version of my original post. If you have read the first version of this, you will find that is very different. I will be keeping the original version of chapter one up. I hope you all enjoy this and my world.
  Characters: 
Jin: Amur Leopard 
Yoongi: Black Tiger 
Hoseok: Lynx 
Namjoon: Arctic Wolf 
Jimin: Arctic Fox 
Taehyung: Snow Leopard 
Jungkook: Red Fox 
Ryoko: Reader/Witch 
Chapter One 
    Summer of 2002 
   “A witch’s vow is a dangerous thing my darling. It can not be broken, even by death. Once made, it needs to be fulfilled, if it’s not even in death the witch will never find peace. The witch will be stuck attempting to fulfill their end of the vow forever. I tell you this because a witch’s vow is easy to do. You merely state your name, followed by your vow. So let's say, if you vow to protect someone, you will spend the rest of your life doing nothing but protecting them.” Mama said as she kneaded the bread before her. I sat at the island taking notes of what she said. I started to ask a question when I heard the scream that ran out from outside.
   “HELP ME!” Taehyung screamed, his voice coming in from the garden. I jumped off the stool and ran towards the door, ignoring my parents telling me to stay back. I race down the gravel drive just in time to see Taehyung, the little snow leopard that is my dearest friend, being dragged by the back of his shirt towards a black van.  
  “LET HIM GO!” I screamed throwing a rock at the man as I kept running. Behind me I can hear my mother calling out at Taehyung’s father, demanding an explanation as my father screamed for me to stop.  “YOU LET HIM GO YOU BAD MAN!” I cried as I began to hit the man. 
  “Get away from me.” He snapped, in the face as he threw me backwards and away from him. A loud snarl echoed from Taehyung as he tried to get to me. Before he could though my father was there, his hand wrapping around the man’s thick wrist, twisting it until it snapped. “YOU SON OF A BITCH!”
  “You are going to be lucky to walk away with a broken wrist after you hit my daughter. I can’t save Taehyung from you, but I swear to god I will end you if you touch her again.” My father said sternly, his voice terrifying even to me.  
    “Save Tae Daddy!” I screamed, ignoring the pain in my jaw from the words. 
  “There isn’t anything we can do petal, his dad signed away his ownership of him. Legally, this man now owns Taehyung.”  
   “Then, then!” I stammered before my eyes widened. “I RYOKO MAKE THIS WITCH’S VOW! I WILL SAVE YOU TAEHYUNG!” 
    “If that little bitch comes anywhere near…”
   “So long as you never hurt him, the vow will never be fulfilled and she will never be a problem to you.” Dad snarls. “So long as you keep this boy from harm, you will never see my daughter again.” 
   “For her sake, she had better hope not. You have done enough.” He threw Taehyung into his car, ignoring my screams and his cries as I was pulled back to the house. 
   For the next two weeks, I was left alone, without my friend, too sad to move from my bedroom. For those two weeks, I did nothing but worry about my friend. Then, exactly two weeks after he was taken, I was awoken to a pain in my wrist and the first vision. Taehyung was in danger and I was meant to be to save him. 
   Present Day 
     The barn was old, but in good enough condition that it could be trusted to hold the eight snarling hybrids. The stalls had been removed, eight large cages were left in their wake. Inside each held a hybrid who was clearly underfed, each one covered in wounds. My heart broke at how defeated the poor dears looked, their fear clouding their eyes. Thick chains were wrapped around the necks, linking them to the barn. My gaze was locked on the snow leopard, his soft brown eyes half closed as he seemed to stare at me. Seeing the fear in my best friend's eyes broke my heart. While I knew he couldn’t see me, or even hear me, I moved towards the cage, kneeling in front of it. 
   “I’m still trying Tae, I promise. I am still looking for you and I think I am getting close.” I whispered, placing my hand against the bars. As it always did, it slid through the bars, my hand half see-through. I always hated these visions, then ones where I could get so close to him yet still be unable to save him. He lifted his head, warm hazel eyes meeting mine. At least, they seemed to meet mine. 
  “He’s coming.” A soft, female voice whispered from the cage beside Taehyung, red and white foxed ears pinned back at the sound. At her words, the rest of the hybrids let out low snarls that rippled through the air. I closed my eyes, feeling the tug of the magic pulling me back. Once again, I turned my eyes back on Taehyung, even though I knew that the sight of terror-filled eyes would haunt me until I finally found him. 
   “Tell me again why you don’t just go and walk outside?” Analeia asked again, her green eyes flickering over me as she waited for my response. I had answered the question before, several times since I had befriended the banshee. Her light brown hair with blue streaks fell into her face as she tilted her head to study me. 
  “It’s not that easy. I would love nothing more than to do just that, but I can’t. I tried the first three times I had the visions, but I was sent back into wherever they were being held at the time. Mom thinks it’s because he is cloaking the location. He knows what I am and that the vow is now in place. She thinks that’s why he is also constantly moving locations, to make it harder to find him.” I explained, doing my best to keep my annoyance from coating my tone. I know she’s frustrated, we all are. It’s been hard trying to find Taehyung, for years we have been close only to be thrown back to square one. It was like he knew when we were getting close.  
  “He’s using a cloaking spell with an alarm,” Aera said suddenly, disbelief written on her face that it had taken us this long to figure it out. “Think about it, it’s the only thing that makes sense. We have gotten so close only to show up and find out we were hours late. How else would they be able to do that without using a cloaking alarm? My guess is probably one that alerts him when we get his location. If we can find a way around the spell then we can get to Taehyung.” For the first time in a long time, my cousin looked excited, no doubt at the challenge she just discovered. The fire fae was never happy when faced with a challenge. 
   “What about the other hybrids? Do we know how we are going to save them legally?” Nakiya asked, leaning forward with a look of concern on her face. Letting out a sigh I looked towards Analia, as the only one working in law among us it was her job to find an answer. The last thing we needed was for the ass to show up and legally take them all back. 
  “I found the answer to that this morning! So, thanks to the vow Mrs Thing made, we know for a fact that Taehyung is not only in constant danger but being abused and neglected too. That gives us our in. You see if someone believes a supernatural being is being abused and or neglected by their own, then they can legally remove them and take over emergency ownership. We will have to go to court to prove it, but with their state, no judge will return them to him.” Analia seemed confident and that was enough for me. Shooting her a relieved smile that we now had that answered, we began to try and figure out the next problem. How to find them. 
  Taehyung’s P.O.V 
    It wasn’t the first time Taehyung had thought he had seen an older version of Ryoko staring back at him. Gone was the softness of childhood and in its place is the beauty of a young woman. All soft skin and proud high cheekbones. She looked how he had always thought of her, the only difference was the concern in her deep eyes. The fear and pity that lingered in the eyes that he had once known better than his own. 
   He did not doubt that it was a product of listening to David rant about how he was remaining three steps ahead of the young witch that started the random hallucinations of his childhood friend. He had spent more time than he could count wishing Ryoko was looking for him, that she hadn’t forgotten a vow made to a terrified young boy. In the years since he had come to accept that she had most likely forgotten it, that a hybrid was no longer a priority to her. He couldn’t blame her, he was a hybrid, nothing more than a pet to most of the world. That knowledge though, didn’t help ease the hurt in his chest whenever he thought of it. 
  So instead he kept his eyes on the only version of her he was likely to get, the version his mind conjured when he was tired or hurt. Today it had been a mix of both, but her whispered words of finding him sparked a small amount of hope in his heart that he hated. The last thing he needed was to feel that useless spark of hope. The sounds of footsteps approaching the farm caused his ears to twitch towards the door, his eyes still lingering on the girl before him. As the door opened, she turned and he took the opportunity to turn as well. Seeing David standing in the doorway, as proud as he always has been, caused him to hold back a snarl. He knew letting that out would only end in more pain than he cared to face at the moment. 
  “I decided to two kill two birds with one stone. The cost of the witch I need to keep your stupid little witch off my back has gotten to be too much. So, I am getting rid of you. The little bitch can have you, so long as you tell her that it's not worth coming after me anymore.” As he spoke, he threw open the door to the cage, reaching in and pulling Taehyung out a little more roughly than needed.
   “Let him go!” Namjoon snarled, the wolf hybrid gripping the bars of his cage. They had become a little pack in the years of them all being together and Namjoon had easily taken up the role of Alpha. Taehyung knew the sight of him being pulled away, never to be seen again, would be something the alpha would never forget or forgive himself for. 
  “I can’t afford the protection to keep his stupid little witch away anymore. So it’s either she goes back to him or I kill him. Pick.” 
  “Taehyung, I will find you,” Namjoon promised another vow that Taehyung knew he would never be held up. 
   “Take care of the others,” Taehyung whispered before he was outside for the first time in a long time. A sharp poke in his neck caused him to fall limp. 
   Reader P.O.V 
     “Tell me again about this vision?” Aera asked the following morning, the steam from her cup swirling up around her face. I looked over at her, a small smile on her face. “Just humour me.” 
   “Alright,” I said as I began to go over everything in the vision, knowing by now to leave out even a single detail. As I told her about how I felt like Taehyung could see me, she leaned forward, her silent way of telling me to explain more. “I am sure it’s hope, but I swear he was meeting my gaze. It wasn’t the first time either that I felt like he could see me, but this time was different. This time I swore he actually met my gaze.”
   “That is strange. In all of the years of you having visions, you never felt like he could suddenly see you.” Aera spoke slowly, her brows pinched together above her crimson eyes. I started to say something when a loud knock echoed through the house. I frowned, my eyes locked on her before I moved to the front of the house. 
   “Aera are you expecting anyone?” I asked as I paused by the door, my hands resting on the doorknob.  
   “No. It could be one of the girls though.” She said with a small shrug. I chuckled as I opened the door, completely expecting to see one of the girls. Instead, I was met with a snow leopard curled up on my doormat, a leopard I knew better than anything else. 
   “Tae!” I screamed, looking around frantically before I jumped over, Aera and I leaning down together to carry the furry little bundle into the house. “We need to call Nkiya, he needs a doctor.” I cried as we carried inside, taking him to the first bedroom of the downstairs floor and laying him carefully onto the bed. 
   “I’ll call her,” Aera said as she hurried out. “Do what you can!” 
  “Like I wasn’t going to already!” I muttered as the fae ran out of the room, my hands slowly moving over the soft white and black coloured fur. I started to heal everything I could, hoping to take just enough of his pain as I started to get him to shift. Slowly he began to shift and suddenly I was facing a shirtless and malnourished man. He blinks slowly, his eyes turning to me. 
   “Save them. Save the pack.” He whispered before falling back into sleep.
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savagewildnerness · 20 days
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I’ve been thinking on Gabrielle elsewhere & I thought we could discuss her here? I’m curious regarding everyone’s thoughts on her & feelings towards her!
I find her desire to be in nature & shun humans very relatable & also, likely, the true secret to surviving immortality. Also, I’m sure 100% of us born female can in some way relate to Gabrielle’s experience. And imagine how much worse her experience of being born female must have been in the 1700’s. What a claustrophobic thought! I don’t know how I: someone who has never dated or loved could have survived back then!?
But her coldness, I find so difficult: to Lestat, who she says she loves & who she does sometimes show love to… in a way I find her way more damaging to Lestat than his Father & brothers, who simply hate him. At least Lestat knows where he is with them. Gabrielle intermittently offers Lestat love & hope… but only ever on her terms…. And then she pulls away to the TRUE opposite of love. Which is not hate. It is indifference. It feels to me like at least 90% of the time, Gabrielle is indifferent to Lestat. What could be more loveless than that? Yet he loves her, like a little donkey, reaching for the carrot of her love. And she kind of keeps him dependent on only that love too. Lestat has nowhere else to feel love from… at least until his Mastiffs.
Gabrielle disconcerts me even when she listens to Lestat in crisis. Again, sometimes she shows love. But often she treats Lestat like an interesting work of art… he is interesting to her for as long as she gets some interesting artistic fulfilment from what he says. But she as often responds with her own experience or merely leaves him be & withdraws again as that she offers comfort, I feel.
Then, when she is turned a vampire, I suppose it’s unsurprising, given who she is that Gabrielle feels zero empathy towards any human anymore. But it’s truly terrifying to me.
And in the end, I just can’t forgive Gabrielle for not teaching child-Lestat to read, as a voracious reader herself. It would have taken so little time & she would have gifted him worlds. But no: she could only ever offer Lestat a thing money could buy, for him to work out entirely alone. Rarely ever love.
I know Lestat loves Gabrielle, but I don’t think what Gabrielle feels towards Lestat is love. I wonder if maybe she even envies him in part, because he is a boy & that could influence some of the ways in which she denies him? Of course, she also admits she keeps Lestat trapped at home as surely as his Father & brothers, so perhaps Gabrielle never teaching Lestat to read isn’t her ignoring or not noticing his needs & desires, but rather acquiescing to her own: Gabrielle doesn’t want her son to be literate as it could be a means for him to escape his home & then she would be entirely alone?
There are such complex dynamics. And I’ve not even touched on how Gabrielle shares her sexual fantasies with her teenaged son yet…
Of course, it’s clear in part Gabrielle has postnatal depression, in how she feels nothing towards any of her children (& we must remember that Lestat’s surviving brothers were certainly loved even less by Gabrielle.) And poor Gabrielle was trapped from a young age in a loveless marriage, without hope in a way that is so different to 2024, yet was so common 250 years ago (almost Universal?) that we can imagine… but it is only imagining…
But still, I have such complicated thoughts towards Gabrielle. On the one hand, I find her so relatable & I find her withdrawal from humanity relatable too… but that’s from my perspective as someone with few humans in my life. I deeply do care about the few humans that aren my life! But her coldness & lack of empathy - honestly, it makes me feel like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering over an infinite void! I find it terrifying, unsettling, deeply disturbing.
I want to do a poll, but I’m unsure the question… let’s see… (also note, I haven’t fully discussed gender… I refer to her as “her” here, as she is in the books, but I think she is likelier to not be “her” in the show, at least in modern day, which I’m really looking forward to how she is written & portrayed.)
I am fascinated to experience her TV self, but I have such complicated feelings towards Gabrielle.
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yoonia · 1 year
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the bedroom hymns ● chapter v
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⟶ Chapter summary | Your wish to reveal the secrets within the Elcester Forest is finally being fulfilled, but you are quick to find that you might be getting more than what you have been asking for. Mysterious occurrences appear before your eyes, and before you know it, a new world opens up for you, with many more wonders waiting for you to see.
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⟶Title | The Bedroom Hymns: a Bluebeard’s twist ⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader  ⟶ Genre | Fairy Prince!Yoongi, Crown Princess!reader, Fantasy au, Fairy Tale retelling au ⟶ Word count | 6,4k words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | PG-13, +18 / M for Mature in future scenes; still nothing much, but the story may contain classism, threats of abductions, curses, dark magic, fantasy typical violence, mentions of war ⟶ Story Masterlist | ⤎ previous chapter | next chapter ⇢ ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Feedback | Music Playlist | Ko-fi
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chapter v. homecoming
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We are going to burn.
We are burning. Oh, dear Lord in heavens. We are burning. 
We are….not burning. We are….flying? 
For one split second, it seems like your mind simply stops functioning. Your mouth has fallen open, yet there is no voice coming out of you even if you feel like screaming. One moment, the entire carriage seems to be burning, engulfed completely by the massive blue flame. And yet, even as you can see yourself being surrounded by the ominous blazing blue lights, there are no burns, no heat, not a single inch of the dancing flame touching the horses and the carriage, let alone your skin. Then, all of a sudden, the carriage seems to emerge from the flame, completely untouched, and on the other side you see nothing but the clear, yet still dark sky full of stars that seems so close that you can almost reach it. There are trees around you still, but the only thing you can see from them are merely their dense tips, as you seem to be floating between the foliage instead of driving through the trees. 
“—ness!” 
And now you are beginning to fall quickly from the sky, the clustered stars above getting further away right before your eyes while you feel like the dense thickets are swallowing you as you descend between them. 
“—Highness!” 
Just when you think that this is the end, the carriage lands roughly on the ground below, tossing you against the seats, while the horses—which had somehow landed more gracefully than the rocking carriage—immediately proceed their run as if nothing had happened. 
As if they hadn’t just pulled you into a burning flame and sent you all floating far above ground towards the night sky. 
“Your Highness! You are having a panic attack. Take a deep breath, look at me,” Nanny Abigail’s voice comes to you just as your senses are starting to work again, all the sounds from the horses’ rapid pace and the rocking wheels return to you, quickly snapping you out of it. You had been so taken aback by the situation that you hadn’t noticed that she has been awakened. Not only had she been pulled out of her sleep during the entire event, she is now sitting right next to you, with her hands clasping your trembling ones as she tries to calm you down. 
Your chest still feels tight, so much so that you feel like you can never breathe again, and your throat is dry with your soundless scream. But seeing her face and knowing that you are still alive help bring you back to reality, no matter how distorted it seems to be right this moment. Before long, despite feeling like your entire world is still slanted with nothing separating between dream and reality, and despite the violent shaking happening around you as the driver struggles to control the horses and balance the carriage over the uneven ground, you are beginning to breathe easier without feeling like your chest is about to explode. 
“There you go,” Nanny Abigail’s voice gently piercing through your muddled brain as she continues coaching you to find your calmness. “Focus on my voice and keep steadying your breathing. Everything is going to be okay, I promise.” 
In need to keep yourself grounded, you lean closer to Nanny Abigail and grip her hand harder as the carriage sways left and right violently as it drives down the road, seemingly as if it is going downhill even without you looking out the window. Keeping your eyes on her seems to be helping you from getting another panic attack, and from feeling sick from all the rapid motions happening all around you, while she somehow remains to be so calm through all the hectics.
How could she be so calm? 
“We….we were—” you try to speak once you find your voice again, but Nanny Abigail gently shakes her head to stop you from forcing yourself, when it is clear that you are still struggling to recover from your shock.
“Yes, Your Highness. I know, but everything is okay now. See? We’re okay,” she continues reassuring you while rubbing her hand gently on your back so that the tension in your body slowly lessens. And it seems to be working, even if having your mind cleared only means that you can finally pay more attention to your surroundings, to see better at what is happening now. 
The carriage continues to sway and rock a while longer until you feel it slowing down. The driver’s voice had sounded a bit strained earlier, but as he gently commands his horses to slowly come to halt, you can sense his tension loosening and he is slowly growing more relaxed and relieved for finally gaining back control over his carriage. The ride slows down until it stops moving, and the driver hops down from his seat. Through the windows, you watch the man as he walks over to his horses, taking his time to gently brush their mane while checking on their reins to make sure that they remain secured even after all the commotion. He leans closer to each one, as if whispering something to each one while he is tending to them, and the horses soon find calmness in his care. 
As if they can understand his words completely. 
You use this moment of quietness to find your own calmness, even as you are left astonished by the sight you are seeing. Settling back in the seat, you let go of Nanny Abigail’s hands as you look out the window to your sides, trying to figure out what had just happened. Outside, the forest is still visible. But it doesn’t take you long to realise that everything seems—different. The trees are dissimilar to the ones you saw before, as they are no longer looking as eerie nor daunting as what you had been seeing, even when the trees surrounding you now appear much bigger and taller in size. There are types of trees that you had never seen back in the Elcester Forest, with lean, yet sturdy upright trunks that look statuesque even in the dark. The foliage also appears thicker, with leaves that seem to be in darker shades which appear as if they are gleaming in the gloom as they reflect the moonlight above perfectly like mirrors. 
Looking up at the evening sky, you also find visible differences to let you know that you are no longer in the Elcester Forest. 
The sky has grown a little brighter than before, with the stronger moonlight illuminating the sky and the forest around you, and there seems to be a much denser clump of stars spread around the bright moon. And there is something else up there that has caught your attention while you were still struggling to get through your shock—the sight of an aurora dancing in the night sky, a colourful display of light that seems to be a complete contrast to the dark hue, in which you can see shades of light coloured in gold and copper blending in together like a cold flame glimmering between the bright display of stars. 
The sight of the majestic display in the sky is still there as you lean closer to the window to see it, and you know that it wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. Never once in your life had you ever seen this kind of spectacle back at the capital, nor had you ever seen it during the nights you ventured into the borders of the woodlands. As the glow seems to dance in the night sky, it almost feels like you can hear its movement, as if there is a faint murmur of musical tone echoing through the air together with each twist and swirl.
The carriage shakes a little when the driver hops back onto his seat. He turns to the window to look back at his passengers, giving you and Nanny Abigail a remorseful grin that doesn’t seem quite genuine when he speaks to you. If any, it seems clear that what just happened had only amused him dearly. “Forgive me for the bumpy ride, Your Highness, and kind Governess. Seems like our little detour earlier had caused us to stray out of course a bit further than expected. Not to worry though, we’ll find our way back in no time, hopefully before the sun is high. We just need to get out of this hill first.”
Without waiting for your response, he turns back to the front and cracks his whip in the air, setting off his horses back into their determined and steady pace. The ride runs more smoothly as the journey continues, though what you are able to sense from the drive only surprises you more. 
Earlier, while going through the road in the middle of the Elcester Forest, the path you were taking mostly remained on plain ground, with only small hills appearing in between. Now, just after encountering the ominous wall of flame, you find yourself going downhill from what seems to be quite of a high altitude. The woodlands around you don’t seem as dense either, as you keep seeing more openings, less of those thick, reaching branches obstructing your view but with more leaves sprouting far above ground in multiple layers of thick foliage. 
The ride continues, with your attention being distracted by your new surroundings, until the ground seems to be growing more plain and even. Just as the carriage is slowly reaching to what seems to be the edge of the wooded hill, and right as you are beginning to believe that it wouldn’t be possible for more surprises to happen to you, you catch the sight of a pair of men on horses coming your way.   
“Halt! Who goes there?” one of the horsemen calls out to the driver, who quickly eases his horses down to a halt. As the men draw closer to the carriage, you are able to see what the men are wearing. Unlike the plain looking armour which you had seen worn by the members of the mercenary army roaming the capital, these men are wearing fancy armours similar to the ones the royal guards of Nythelean Empire Army would wear. You notice a matching insignia marked on both of their chest protectors which looks nothing like any of the symbols of the armies from any kingdom that you have ever known.
The other horseman inquires the driver as he also draws closer from the other side of the carriage. “What is your business here, Sir?” 
You feel tense, wondering what the driver would tell them. Once again, Nanny Abigail grabs your hand to keep you calm, as if she can sense your trepidation without you saying it out loud. Meanwhile, the driver at the front sounds as calm as he has been the whole night when he answers, “Just passing through, Colonel. We got lost between the hills back there. Didn’t expect that it would still be this dark when we came through here.” 
“And where are you heading to?” 
Hearing this question, the driver smiles and points towards the passenger window behind him, and you start panicking. “The ladies here wanted to see the sunrise. They heard that it would be beautiful to watch the sun coming up from the beaches on the coastal area,” the driver cheerfully says, while you can hear your own heartbeat racing fast. You have no idea what the driver is up to now by drawing their attention on you—when you were not supposed to be seen by anyone—but there is really nothing that you can do about it except to stay silent and let him handle everything. “Do you by any chance know where we should go to reach the coastline? We mean no harm, we promise. Just out here on a short vacation before the summer ends, is all.” 
The first horseman who isn’t conversing with the driver goes around the carriage, studying the ride closely and peeking through the windows with pure curiosity. There is something about him that reminds you of the nameless mercenary soldier you met at the pub a few nights ago—his attentive eyes, his cold smile and genuine interest, and his entire demeanour as he carefully guides his horse around the carriage—which makes you feel cautious under his gaze. You instinctively avoid his eyes, keeping your head down while holding tightly around your necklace to remain calm. 
Unlike you, Nanny Abigail simply greets the man with a smile and a courteous nod when she meets his gaze, before the man finally returns to the front of the carriage to join his comrade. You see both men talking in low voices with each other for a quick moment, until the other nods, his face looking more at ease after listening to the report he is given, yet he still remains vigilant when he speaks to the driver again. 
“Keep heading to the East, make sure to keep following the road and you will get there in no time. The sunrise is coming soon so you might want to hurry if you want to catch it. Be careful not to go straying into others’ property and stay clear from the wastelands. There would be no one to keep you secure if you should get lost out there in that area,” the soldier instructs the driver politely, to which the latter responds kindly as if he hadn’t been unfairly questioned just now or heard the underlying threat that you can easily sense from the guard’s words.
“Will do, Colonel. Thank you for the help, and forgive us for all the trouble.” 
“You drive safely now, Sir,” the other soldier says, his eyes finding the window to meet your gaze once more when he says, “Take care, Miss.” 
You nod at the soldier with a smile. At the front, the driver cracks his whip, commanding his horses to continue the journey, keeping a slow and steady pace as the carriage drives past the soldiers who remain in their spots, watching as the ride starts heading towards the edge of the woods. 
You can only breathe a sigh of relief once the ride continues smoothly ahead, until you realise that His Majesty’s royal guards who you saw following you closely back in the Elcester Forest are now nowhere to be seen. Before you get to question any of this, you start seeing the driver cautiously looking over his shoulder, subtly taking heed of the soldiers’ movements, and then Nanny Abigail shows you yet another questionable behaviour as she speaks out to the driver through the front window, “They’ve gone deeper into the woods.” 
At the front, the driver nods approvingly. “It appears so. Wonder what they were doing out here in the bluffs. They don’t belong in this territory more than we do.” 
His response got you feeling curious, so you sneak a glance through the back window, watching as the soldiers disappear through the thickets. You have no idea why you were drawn to them despite feeling uneasy when they intercepted your ride earlier. The uneasiness remains even as you watch their backs fade into the gloom, as you silently wonder why they had let you go so freely if this truly had been a forbidden territory for you to past through, or if there had indeed any threats from your father’s enemies to do you harm.
Meanwhile, as the carriage continues getting further away from the bluffs, the soldiers continue to ride their horses deeper into the woods to make their way up towards the top of the hill, oblivious to the attention they have been getting. Keeping their horses running at a steady pace and staying close to each other, they continue to discuss what they had just encountered. 
The one who was looking at you before you departed speaks first, asking his comrade, “Did you see any emblem shown on the carriage?” 
The other soldier shakes his head. “No, I didn’t. There was only a symbol on the wheels that didn’t seem like a symbol of any reigning kingdom that I know of. Despite its size, the carriage was made to look like a common people’s ride.” 
“I was thinking the same thing,” the first soldier says. “But it makes me wonder—” he discreetly looks over his shoulder, watching the tail of the departing carriage through the corners of his eyes before it disappears completely from sight. “Why would an unmarked common people’s carriage carrying two maidens who are out traveling on an uncharted territory be covered by such a powerful flow of magic?” 
His comrade responds with a grim voice as he has been wondering the same thing, “My question exactly. We need to find a way to send this news to His Highness, Prince Yoongi, in the human realm. I’m sure he would love to hear about this incident before the news ever gets back to the palace.” 
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The rest of the journey is filled with silence. 
To say that you are still shocked sounds like an understatement. And yet, for some reason, it seems like your senses are in high alert with curiosity, as if you are readying yourself to experience more surprises.
Perhaps this is why you can easily notice it once the terrain seems to be changing again. The ride has been going on plain ground for a while, as the driver followed the road as instructed by the local soldiers towards the East. 
For a while, you see nothing but meadows and green sloping hills surrounding you, until the road slowly begins ascending again, and the green meadows begin to decline, showing you a spread of arid ground mixed with white sand and flat rocks rising here and there. The higher the ground rises, the more you see a layer of white mist rising around you. It surprises you just how fast the mist soon grows into a thick layer of fog once you realised its presence, and it is beginning to make it hard for you to see what is happening around you. It the meantime, it doesn’t seem like the driver is having the same problem as he remains focused in leading his horses to drive through the thick mist, as he somehow manages to keep the ride to remain on the road. 
But the surprise doesn’t end there, as you begin to see His Majesty’s guards that have been absent earlier emerging through the fog one by one, joining the carriage as it continues heading up towards the peak of the ascending terrain. From the guards who stayed with you until the end to those who had separated themselves from the entourage much earlier back in the Elcester Forest when they went to investigate your pursuers. 
Through the window, you see one of the guards closing in, his voice is drowned by the sounds of the galloping horses that you can only catch on a few words he is sharing with the driver, “….tried to catch up…stalled during the leap…came out at a different place than intended.” 
“Figured as much,” you hear the driver responding to him calmly without taking his eyes off of the road. “We came out on the bluffs just beyond the borders. We met some company intercepting our arrival which His Majesty would have loved to hear about.” 
You see them exchanging a few more words before the guard separates himself and begins leading his horse at the front of the entourage to act as a guide. As he advances through the thick mist, it magically melts around him, as if giving him passage to march forward, showing you what the mist had been trying to conceal. 
Beyond you arises what appears to be a smaller replica of Mount Orrum, a mountain with grey slabs of rocky walls waiting for you where the meadows end. Shadows of massive rocks in various forms and sizes are visible through the fog when you look towards the right side of the road, which you are unable to identify, though you immediately remember about the ‘wastelands’ that the soldiers have mentioned before and wonder if the driver had ignored their warnings to enter the forbidden area. 
The carriage continues ascending in height, and you suddenly feel the warmth of sunlight flooding into the carriage. Ignoring the dark figures being concealed by the fog to your right, you turn to search for the sunlight on the opposite side of the road. This time, the fog seems to know what you are wishing to see, and it disperses just enough for you to find what you are looking for. 
What you had thought to be a rising ground covered with rocks on your left turns out to be the edge of an elevated cliff. Beyond the line of rocks covering the side of the road, you see nothing but a far drop down below, where you can roughly see a spread of white-sanded coastline and a widespread of clear ocean which seems endless, with the horizon located far away where the morning sun is seen rising from.
Laying your gaze at the beach and the chasing waves below, then up to the cliff walls that appear to be rising at the ends of the beach line, you are overcome with a sense of familiarity. I know this place, you wonder as you lean closer to the window, hoping to get a better look at the view and try to recall why this place feels so familiar to you.
An image appears from the back of your mind right at that moment, of a clear wide ocean and the white-sanded beach, of the slanted cliffs with green patches of grass and wildflowers growing on the very top where you found yourself wandering blissfully with your bare feet sinking into them, and the man who seemed to have come out of the rocky walls just to greet you, 
“We will see each other soon…” 
All of a sudden, you feel something blooming inside your chest. 
To this day, you still have yet to figure out who he was, and you have no idea how to find out anything about this mysterious being without questioning your sanity for searching for a figure that you had only seen in your dreams. But you have never felt such a yearning for someone or something that seems so otherworldly before, to feel such desire so deep, and that feeling has persisted ever since you had the dream visiting you in your sleep. The images you saw has been haunting you, along with the man who you had only met in that short, yet euphoric moment that you can remember every part of it even now that you are awake.
Seeing this place appearing before you now gives you some sort of hope. It feels like you finally have something to look forward to, seeing that this place is real, and to find it when you are to reach the place which might become your new home. 
As if the universe is answering your silent musings, the driver turns and alerts you of what is coming right ahead. 
“Keep your eyes looking ahead, Your Highness. As promised, I’m bringing you home just as the sky is turning brighter, and I know that you would love to see this,” the driver shouts excitedly through the front window. “We have arrived.” 
You look to the front only to see nothing but a thick layer of fog forming right ahead of the carriage, as it continues to crawl and rise from the ground together with the entire entourage taking you home. One by one, the royal guards seem to be swallowed by the white fog as they march right ahead, and soon it would be your turn. But the carriage continues driving forward, as if the driver knows where to go without having a clear visual of the road beyond. You can hear the changes happening around you when the horses begin to slow down and the wheels start running over what seems to be cobblestone-covered road. 
As if there is magic present in the air, the fog disperses itself completely right before your eyes, and emerging from the darkness is a massive castle, standing magnificently right atop of the peak of the rocky mountain. 
You watch in awe as the carriage draws closer and closer towards the castle, speeding up slowly as it drives over the rise on the road leading towards the main gate. As the gate opens, allowing the carriage to enter through the front courtyard, your eyes remain at the castle, taking in all the details that you are seeing upon first glance before immediately finding the front door of the majestic palace which holds another surprise waiting for you.
Right there, standing at the threshold of the new palace which would soon become your new home, surrounded by his royal guards as he awaits for your arrival, is your father. His Royal Majesty King Aneas who had been there to bid you farewell as he sent you off to your departure from The Citadel is now here, waiting for you to arrive at your destination in the dawn. 
Too astonished at the sight of your father, you can barely focus on anything else, not even when the royal guard welcoming your arrival comes to assist you as you step down from the carriage. You barely notice the touch of the guard’s gentle hand as he brings you to your father, who is waiting patiently for you with a smile on his face, and for a moment, you almost believe that the sight of him standing right in front of you is nothing more but yet another figment of your imagination. 
That is, until you hear a heavy chuckle coming out of the back of his throat, his low and deep voice letting you know that he is real, that His Royal Majesty King Aneas is actually here, looking deeply into your curious eyes when he calmly greets you, 
“Welcome home, Princess. Welcome to Stargrave Castle.” 
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“How was it possible for Your Majesty to get here before I do?” 
Seeing your father welcoming you at the door was already quite an unexpected affair, but it feels more astonishing to see him laughing so freely at your question. Surprisingly, none of the guards or staff around you seem fazed at how lax he is being with you, unlike how he would usually act while at The Citadel where he would still address and treat you formally in front of others.  
“Out of all the questions that you could possibly be giving me, that was your first choice?” King Aneas asks you curiously. 
“Honestly, I have too many questions right now but I just don’t even know where to start. Although I must say that it’s what I’m most curious about right now,” you simply tell him with an exhale of sigh, and you are not completely lying either. You do have a myriad of questions running through your head, yet this has been the one plaguing your thoughts for quite some time. Even before seeing him today. 
After the day you tried to find your father at the palace only to hear that he was away, you kept remembering all the times you found out that His Majesty was gone from the palace without you ever seeing him leaving, or when he would suddenly show up to see you right after arriving back from his trips without you ever noticing his return. And now here he is, appearing right before your eyes, when you still remember clearly how you saw the King retreating back into the palace as the royal carriage took you away from The Citadel. 
Instead of giving you the answer that you needed, your father simply turns away, leaving you with no choice but to follow him. Walking into the entrance foyer, you are met by the presence of the palace staff, the lady maids and servants who are standing in line against the wall to welcome your arrival. Each one of them formally greets you, curtsying and bowing at their waist as the King announces your arrival.  
“These are the palace staff who will assist you on your daily duties and tend to your needs while you are staying here,” King Aneas calmly introduces them to you, before summoning someone from the line. 
A man who seems like an older gentleman with a thick hair that appears almost like silver comes forward to greet you with a bow. Wearing a formal royal suit, the man also carries with him a short sword, something that you had rarely seen back at The Citadel where it would have been forbidden for anyone working closely with the King to carry a weapon or armoury with them. 
“This is Lord Gordan. He is the head of staff and my right hand man who is responsible in taking care of all the important matters within the palace,” your father explains, introducing the man to you. 
“Your Highness,” Lord Gordan greets you with a bow. 
“He will help you with everything you need and be your personal guide as you take your time adjusting yourself with this palace. Since you didn’t bring with you any of your lady-in-waiting or personal maid from the capital, Lady Abigail will temporarily take over all of their duties until you choose yourself your personal attendant and lady maids to assist you with your daily needs and royal duties.” 
King Aneas then proceeds to take you through the palace, accompanied by Lord Gordan and a royal guard following close behind. You had parted ways with Nanny Abigail and the friendly driver at the front door, as a senior servant had taken over your governess’ care by showing her towards her personal chamber so she could have some rest while the driver bid to you his goodbye to tend to his exhausted horses. 
You continue to follow your father until you reach a glorious-looking room that looks to be his personal office or study room. The room feels more expansive compared to the one he normally uses back at The Citadel, with a small library connected to it on one side and various artefacts being laid out on the opposite side. Even the desk at the center seems larger and stronger, with a chair that has a high backrest which seems more like a throne than a regular working chair. 
On the corner of the room, you see a mirror standing in front of a massive bookcase. The dark surface that barely reflects anything you see in the room draws your attention to it, and you are almost sure that you see a sight of blue threads of light sparkling on the mirror which dissolve just as quickly as they appear before your eyes. But with a ton of things running through your mind at the moment, you choose to pay no heed to it further and stay away from it instead. 
While the King is busy conversing with Lord Gordan, you walk towards the nearby window overlooking the courtyard, giving them some space to discuss their matters as you look around. You take a moment to revel in the sight of the morning sky which you can see beyond the palace’s walls, enjoying the moment of peace, until you hear the King relieving Lord Gordan temporarily to tend to his other duties.   
“I don’t understand,” you finally ask the King once you are left alone with him in the room, though you remain by the window to bask in the warm sunlight to keep your mind clear for this conversation. “Where are we, Father? What is this place?” 
King Aneas comes to join you and looks out the window, staring far into the distance. “This is Stargrave Castle. This place is special, and safe,” he says, keeping his eyes at the brightening morning sky for a while longer before turning to you. There is a hint of softness in his gaze when your gazes meet each other. “You don’t remember, do you?” 
“Remember what?” 
A gentle smile appears on his face when King Aneas answers you, “This is home. Your home. You were born in this place and were raised here as a child by your mother.” 
“What? But I thought—” 
Out of all the things you had expected to hear, all the answers you wanted to gain from him, this was not one of them. A part of you is quick to deny this, but then all the distorted memories you have had over the years start coming back to you, leading you to start wondering—
“That you were born at the capital? That your true home was the summer palace?” your father questions you, and you find yourself nodding, too speechless and confused to answer him with words. “No, Princess. This is our home castle.” 
The King looks away again, and you can sense hurt and bitterness coming from his words when he gently adds, “This used to be, at least.” 
You remain silent. Your head is spinning, unable to comprehend this new reality that he is forcing you to see after years of believing everything that your memories have been telling you about your past life. When the King, your own father, continues to tell a completely different story than what you had remembered, it almost feels like you are listening to the life of an entirely different person.  
“Right after you were born, our empire was forced to face a situation much similar to this one. It was at the end of the Great War, and in order to keep you and herself safe, your mother took you away from home. The summer palace, Seacrest Manor, was a sanctuary that your mother built together with the people who joined her in her escape, and she remained there until I was able to build us a new home, only once I conquered the land of Smotia and claimed it as ours. That was when I finally came to find you and your mother and brought you both back to join me at The Citadel. The manor remains to this day, only as a memorial to your mother’s journey and home for the people who fought alongside her to find and built their safe haven, and so does this castle, as it holds many memories of our peaceful life before the war.” 
Everything sounds absurd, even as you listen to this whole new story. The story that had not been written in the history books which you studied almost your entire life. And yet, you find yourself his words as you listen to them carefully and find no deceit in them. “That was how you got to Smotia. Because Mother made it her—no, our sanctuary.”
“You are correct, Princess,” the King says with pride gleaming in his eyes. The same pride that blooms in your chest as you picture your mother as the one behind the rise of your father’s empire. 
There are still so many questions in your head, so many things that your father has yet to explain, yet the whole night has been such a journey that you feel too drained to take anymore of this in. So you keep most of your questions and doubts to yourself. 
For now. 
“Is this not a part of Smotia?” is the only thing you ask of him as you look out the window, witnessing the rare sight of sunrise that you have never seen before back at the capital—the crystal glow of the sunlight being reflected on the surface of the calm ocean as it continues emerging fully from the horizon.
King Aneas smiles. “This part of the region is known to be Flagon. Smotia’s own domain ends at the center of the Elcester Forest and where the bluffs bordering between our empire’s territory and our neighbouring empires reside.” You suddenly remember the odd place where you had emerged onto after encountering the blue wall of flame, about the soldiers who came to warn you about crossing over territories where you don’t belong to, and finally understand more about the tension that had been shared in the carriage then. “This territory is still under Nythelean Empire’s rein, with the center of the government now placed at The Citadel, but you might soon find that the people here are…different.” 
You raise your eyebrows. “Different from the people in Smotia?”
The King nods. “Most of them are, although there are a lot of the people residing in this palace who used to live in Smotia. Just like how there are people back in the capital and the surrounding districts who had once lived in this part of the region before joining me in Smotia to help me build the capital and its towns.” 
“Everything here does seem different,” you admit to your father, while refraining yourself from telling him that you can also feel some differences from him. 
Ever since the moment you met him at the main entrance of the castle, you had already felt it. When at The Citadel, His Majesty seems more restrained and closed off when it comes to interacting with his people or when dealing with any matters related to the Empire, he seems brighter here and more open to talk to, and you can even feel a comforting vibe emerging from him by staying this close to him. 
“This place, this side of the Empire’s territory, is nothing like the other part of the region that you have been so accustomed with growing up at the capital,” the King answers you, drawing yet another curiosity from you that you turn to look at him closely for answers. 
“Really? What is so different about this place?” you curiously inquires him. “What exists in this place that we wouldn’t be able to find before back at the capital, aside from its people?” 
King Aneas, who is usually so quiet and has been known to hold a myriad of secrets, turns to you with a smile on his face, as he reveals to you the one secret that you would have never expected to hear directly from him. 
“Magic.” 
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— © 2023 Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.
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seraphiism · 11 months
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𓆩 ღ 𓆪 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞
( i wish i could be everything for you. family, home, watchtower, lighthouse. i am sorry for every way i've ever hurt you, including this. )
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chara : clive rosfield fandom : final fantasy 16 quote cr : mabel podcast a/n : ngl someone may have forgotten some of the plot in ff16. not me though
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── IT WAS ONCE SAID THAT THERE ARE THREE UNIVERSAL TRUTHS IN THIS WORLD :
ONE : GRIEF IS A DEAD MAN WALKING. it will overcome you, destroy you, devour you, drown you beneath the waves of sorrow. IT WILL HURT. it always will. but it is ultimately you who deems your survival. do not forget that.
TWO : YOU WILL KNOW LONELINESS LIKE IT IS YOUR DEEPEST COMPANION. you will find familiarity with the emptiness, and it will turn into nostalgia turned to mourning twisted into an anguish. in the end, you won't know the difference between friend or foe in the coexistence of your own solitude.
THREE : THE WEIGHT OF THE WORLD IS A TERRIBLY HEAVY THING, DEAREST. make sure you do not carry it alone.
it is almost amusing, you think, gaze boring into the dying embers before you, how convenient it is to forget said truths. how it slips from the mind in the most foolish of times when the truth is spoken to you ; how obnoxiously it echoes into memory when you speak of it to someone as means of lessons learned.
the truth is a very miserable thing sometimes, this sobering reminder of humanity, but it is also something so excruciatingly tender.
you shiver. the air is cold and unwelcoming. the embers burn bright, then nearly fade into nothingness : a distant flux and flow, the reignition of something that wants to survive.
what a profound sight it is, clive thinks, almost breathless at your beauty beneath the moonlight, it is a mere glimpse to the serenity that settles in the depths of your heart, almost forgotten, and in the weariness of your features, it serves as something hopeful. you must be searching for a shooting star ; you always are, and maybe he's searching for one tonight, too. how lucky you would both be if granted a wish fulfilled. perhaps it would spare you from the pain to come on this endless journey, this path to redemption and salvation.
he looks to the sky, too, hopes to remember this moment for a long while, this time in which you find repose beneath the stars.
it is not long before you feel him shift beside you, his hands gentle as he drapes his cloak over your shoulders. you do not say anything, but you smile in silent thanks, and he wonders how he can do this. how he can say this. the destruction of oneself is much easier than the destruction of another. he returns the smile, but it does not reach his eyes, and you know that something is wrong.
he averts his gaze, focuses on the fire. dying, dying, dead. fire is such a horrific being, he has learned, and what a tragic way he has discovered it so. how it burns and burns, consuming everything in its path. it is ruthless in nature-- a terror that seizes anything it can, burning it into damnation and ruin until there is nothing but ashes meant to be forgotten.
such fire runs in his blood, and with it, a quiet violence. he does not know why, doesn't know how, and he begs the question to the divine a thousand times over. there is no answer. there never is, never will be. the only thing he knows is that there is blood on his hands, and he cannot afford to shed yours. he will not.
even if it means going your separate ways, even if he means breaking your heart, even if it means carrying out an act of betrayal to the trust that has bound you to each other.
"i..." he cannot even bring himself to speak. what a coward he is. "there is something i wish to discuss with you."
you still look to the sky. the subtle curve of your lips does not falter, even with the words he does not expect to hear.
"you plan to leave, don't you?" you wonder if there is a shooting star somewhere out there, wonder if it will be kind enough to visit in times of despair. "you think this is all your fault, that you were the one who killed what you thought to be most precious."
the smile has faded. your gaze shifts to the ashes, then to him, seeing that heartache in those blue eyes. something feels like it's tightening around your throat. you suspect it is grief. you speak again, anyway.
"you think... that your existence should be void, that you should be punished for what you believe you did. that if you stay-- if you stay here, if you stay with me, then it'll happen all over again."
he does not speak for a long while. what can you even say to that? how can he tell you that you're right, that he's afraid he could hurt you to the point of no return and not know it? that he's going to leave you because he loves you?
you turn towards him, your hands reaching for his. your hold is tender, careful, but he feels the way you tremble ever so slightly. it is his fault.
"the things i've done back then--" he pauses, uncertainty in his eyes, a grief of some sort, "i didn't know it was me. i thought i had been chasing after the one responsible for my pain, but i've been chasing a ghost all along." his hands squeeze yours, and maybe they're shaking, too. "i failed my duty. there's only one path that lies ahead of me, and that is one where you are safe."
he doesn't know what to expect-- your anger, your fury. that's what he almost wants, because it is much easier to end things that way. but he doesn't expect your expression to soften, doesn't expect to feel the way your hand cups his cheek, thumb tracing over his scar. he is already on the verge of break, but this may be the one thing that pushes him over the edge, and a sorrowful smile finds its way to your lips at the tears that threaten to trail down his face.
"you don't want to go, clive." your voice is barely above a whisper, quiet, almost forgotten in the wind.
no, he doesn't. he doesn't want to leave, doesn't want to leave you, doesn't want to lose you. he wants to stay. he wants to think that there's hope somewhere, but the truth of it all is that there's just not.
"no, i don't." he places his hand over yours, instinctively leans into your touch. "i don't."
"so stay. stay with me. i know you are in despair. i know. but the truth runs deeper than any of us suspect. you can't give up, not yet." this time, your voice almost breaks. you lean forward, your forehead pressed against his. you are afraid to speak. "we are not meant for solitude, you know. the path you take is the only one i know. i will not leave you, clive. not now, not ever."
he doesn't--
he feels his heart waver, feels like his thoughts are a mess, mind a haze in the midst of mourning. he cannot help but close his eyes at your words, at your warmth. he doesn't know if he can believe you, not yet. to grant himself forgiveness is an act of selfishness, and it is not one that is deserved. not now, maybe not ever.
"you've always bested me, haven't you?" even now, he's unsure of what to say, what to do. you've always been right, always known the best course of action. even in the darkest nights of ruin, you've always managed to find the light. for that, he is grateful. "...you have my heart, always. thank you."
you smile, but this time, it is a quiet sadness, yet almost hopeful. your lips meet his-- brief, but more than enough.
the journey ahead is a long one. it will be difficult. it will be harsh, cruel, and it will push both of you to the point of break. but so long as you have each other, you will make it.
"of course." you answer, and you kiss him once more. "you have my heart, too. our paths will always be intertwined, clive."
he laces his fingers with yours, lips ghosting against the back of your hand in an act of reverence.
"yes," he murmurs, and maybe there is something holy in the way he speaks to you, looks at you, "always."
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fanmoose12 · 1 year
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Hi there! I've got a high school castes Levihan prompt for you, should you choose to receive it.
It's based on the 'I was talking crap about teacher A to teacher B and here they are at Target holding hands' idea! Maybe in this version Hange's a science teacher and Levi is the neurotic janitor. Who would have sensed the danger in venting about the janitor's psychotic standards on cleanliness and school rules to Hange? Who would have thought that those 2, in fact, had a little secret something going on...? Looking forward to what you come up with!
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Jean is fucked.
Jean is so, so fucked, and not even in the good way, not in the way he would have preferred to, not by a certain gorgeous black-haired beauty with eyes as magnificent as dark sky on a cloudless night, who would absolutely destroy him, at least, according to the fantasies that replay through his mind every time he makes it (and his hand) wander.
No, he's fucked in a cruel, merciless way, in a way that makes his knees tremble and his heart beat way too fast at the mere thought about it.
Honestly, Jean kinda wants to run straight to his mother, to hide behind her back and bury himself in her warm and safe (and that is his absolute priority) arms.
But he is seventeen years old, he's all grown-up. Wise beyond his years. Smart, incredibly brave. And very, very handsome. If his mother is to be believed. Which she absolutely must be. She wouldn't lie to him, right?
After all, mothers know their children best and all that.
So, grown-up, smart, incredibly brave and very, very handsome Jean doesn't allow himself to seek protection. He doesn't rush in his mother's arms, doesn't hide or quiver. He stands up tall, looks the danger right into its eyes, and-
Runs as far from it as fast he can, abandoning the snacks he's been craving throughout the whole day.
He'll probably have to later apologize about it to the poor girl, who tirelessly works at this store. He will do just that, beg her for forgiveness, get on his knees if she'd wish to, even volunteer to cover a shift or two for her.
But right now- his life is in grave danger, and Jean runs away, forgetting about sense, logic, honor and all those things that his mother was trying so hard to breed in him.
He runs until he's out of breath, until his legs all but give out. And stops only, when a familiar-looking house appears in his view.
It's Yeager's, because of course it is. Evidently, it's yet another sign that the universe is set on absolutely crushing him. Perhaps, it's a punishment, Jean thinks, for his incredible wit and unbelievably good looks.
But beggars can't be choosers, so loathe Eren though he does, Jean still knocks on the door of his house. Eren might be his mortal enemy and a jerk with a stupid face and ugly mouth that constantly spills out some bullshit, but Jean's situation is nothing short of dire, and he absolutely must vent his frustrations out to someone. And if fate decided that Yeager will be the one fulfilling the role of a willing listener, then so be it.
He can always punch that dickhead later, after he pours his heart and soul out to him.
It doesn't take long for his knocking to be answered, and, unexpectedly, Eren is not the one to open the door.
It's Mikasa, badass and beautiful Mikasa, who sets Jean's heart aflame like no other living person does. Even now, the sight of her takes his breath away, makes his heart flutter in a way it always does in her presence, although the glorious sensation is somewhat dulled by a prickle of resentment.
What is Mikasa doing at Yeager's house? Why does she never visit Jean? Are these two really-
His suspicions halt, as Mikasa's forehead creases with worry, and she asks in that gorgeous, deep voice of hers,
"Jean? Is everything alright?"
Mikasa's concern warms his heart, but the memory of the events that led him here serves as the metaphorical bucket of cold water that twists Jean's insides into a knot.
But he can't very well show it, not to Mikasa, the girl of his dreams, the absolute queen of his heart.
"Of course!" he lies blatantly, feeling proud - his voice didn't even waver, he didn't sound like that same pride is the only thing stopping him from bursting into tears. Good job, he congratulates himself after managing to put a hopefully convincing enough smile. "I just stopped by for- for a quick chat."
Mikasa's frown deepens. "With Eren?"
"Naturally," Jean says, before he can stop himself. "Me and him, we're great friends."
"If you say so..." Mikasa mumbles, sounding not at all convinced. But she does let him inside the house, and on a day that's already going horribly for him, Jean decides to count it as a win.
He follows Mikasa to Eren's room upstairs, and finds that she's not the only guest. Armin, Sasha and Connie are there too.
So all of them are hanging out together? And no one thought to invite him as well? What a bunch of traitors.
"Yo, Jean!" Sasha waves at him. She's lying on Eren's bed with her feet propped against the wall and head hanging upside down, and Jean debates if he should comment on it, but promptly decides against it. It's not the weirdest thing he's seen today, and definitely not the weirdest thing he's seen Sasha do.
"Hey, dude!" Connie turns to greet him too, eyeing him with an uncharacteristically thoughtful expression on his face. "Are you good?"
"You do look a little pale..." Armin chimes in.
Eren's the only one who doesn't at all react to Jean's arrival, opting to just glare menacingly at him. But he doesn't even try to throw him out of his house, and Jean is already grateful for that. If Eren wishes to just stare at him, that's more than fine with him. He's too emotionally drained to start another argument or even glare back at the boy.
He plops down on the floor next to Connie, and sighs so loudly and wearily that all eyes are instantly glued to him.
"Guys..." he begins, "There is something I need to tell you..."
"Oh!" Connie reacts instantly, beaming like it's a Christmas day. "You finally decided to come clean about your crush on Mikasa?"
Very quickly the room goes very quiet. And still. Jean promptly averts his eyes, doing all he can to summon a hole that will hopefully swallow him whole, while Mikasa fidgets with her skirt, a blush that Jean would have found absolutely breathtaking had he had the courage to look up at her, rapidly spreading on the apple of her cheeks.
"You idiot! That was supposed to be a secret!" Sasha hisses, smacking Connie's head. She probably meant to say it quietly, in a whisper that no one but Connie would be able to hear, but the universe hates Jean, so, of course, the whole room hears it.
The silence gets even more excruciating. It really is the worst day of his life. Jean can't even find it in himself to get mad at two dimwits he for some reason considers to be his best friends. He doesn't feel embarrassed too, not too much anyway.Mikasa now knows about his undying love for her, so what of it? His life is ruined anyway.
"Jean," Armin, kind and wonderful Armin, reaches out to him, offering a gentle smile and redirecting everyone's attention from the moment that will surely haunt Jean's nightmares for months to come. "You wanted to tell us something?"
And bringing it back to the moment that will haunt the rest of his now no doubt much shorter life.
But he came not just to feel sorry for himself. He came here to share his grievances, to warn the others to not repeat the mistake he's already made. He might as well spill it already.
"Well, yeah, you see, it's about janitor Levi..."
"That jerk?" Eren perks up. "I fucking hate that guy. He made me wash the floor of the whole east wing after I spilled some soda."
"Yeah, he's a bit intense," Sasha agrees. "He once threw out my burrito, because he said it stinks. I mean, who does that?"
"You think that's intense?" Connie exclaims. "He threatened to cut my dick off if he sees me missing the toilet once again."
"Well, he'd be right to do so, Connie," Sasha chides. "That's totally disgusting."
"I can't help it sometimes!"
"I've heard that he's actually a gangster," Armin says, interrupting Sasha and Connie's bickering. "And that's why he works at school. You know, so that'd be easier to sell drugs to the kids."
"He never offered me any drugs..." Connie complains. "You think that's because of the whole missing the toilet thing?"
Jean rolls his eyes at him, deciding to not dignify that nonsense with a reply. "What does it matter? What matters is that the guy is a psycho. I mean, you all agree with me, don't you?" He pauses, waits for everyone to nod their agreement, then continues, "Well, that's why I've shared some of our... mutual reservations about him to Hange-san. You know, just to vent out my frustration at the guy. And you know how Hange-san is totally cool and understanding, right?"
Once again, everyone murmurs their agreement.
"So, I ranted a bit about janitor Levi, maybe, called him names a few times... but Hange-san was laughing as I did so! Of course, they then told me that he's simply a complicated man and other stuff along those lines, but at the moment I thought they were just being professional and what not, but today I went to the store to buy some snacks, and I met Hange-san there, and janitor Levi was there too, and, well... they were holding hands and I think I even saw them share a quick kiss, like they were a couple or something..."
A chorus of 'Hange-san and janitor Levi?', 'holding hands?", 'a couple?' and a collective 'ew' erupts. Jean waits for it to settle down, before quietly inquiring,
"You don't think that Hange-san is plotting to kill me, right? I mean, as cool as they are, they're a bit crazy too, and I just insulted their boyfriend to their face, and they're a science teacher, they must know how to dispose of a body, I saw that on Breaking Bad, and..."
Jean's ranting, he knows, and maybe he's began hyperventilating too, and he's definitely in a desperate need of a hug, preferably from Mikasa, but all that he gets are sympathetic looks, and-
A scream from Yeager.
"Fuck!" he yells, beginning to pull at his hair with worrying ferocity. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! I didn't know they were together! I thought they hated one another, what the fuck! Guys, I-" he pauses, then looks ahead like a man that's about to be hanged. "Just the other day, I... I kinda told janitor Levi that Hange-san is batshit crazy, and that they... stink worse than a monkey's poo."
The whole room is rendered speechless, everyone is gawking at Eren with a mix of shock, sympathy and premature grief. And Jean- Jean bursts out laughing.
He was wrong. He was so, so wrong. It's not the worst day of his life, far from it. It's definitely one of the better ones. And it's bound to get even greater - when he witnesses janitor Levi beating the living shit out of Yeager.
He reaches out to him, clasps his shoulder just a bit too forcefully. "My friend," he says, with a grin that's threatening to break his face. "You're so fucked."
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samiiy20 · 9 months
Text
♡ 𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨 (𝐟𝐭. 𝐇𝐚𝐧) ♡
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𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: Dom!Lee Minho x fem!reader x Han Jisung 𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: Smut 𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡:4.6k (I don't know what happened jsjs) 𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠: After planning a surprise for your boyfriend, something unexpected happens when you have a third guest, but they prefer to take advantage of it.
N/A: This is something to celebrate 250 followers, thank you all very much for reading me <3
masterlist II tag list
This content NOT is for minors!!!
This is merely entertainment, this does not represent any real person.
It is forbidden to copy or translate my work.
English NO is my first language.
Warnings below the cut
𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: Threesome, unprotected sex (don't do it), a bit of degradation, oral sex, eating cum, nicknames: kitten,dacryphilia, overstimulation. I'm sorry if I forgot something
˚♡⋆。˚♡⋆。˚♡⋆。˚♡⋆。˚♡⋆。˚♡⋆。˚♡
You never thought about doing something like this. You had never imagined that you would end up agreeing to fulfill one of your boyfriend's fantasies. But you had given it a thousand thoughts, he had done it for you before, you could do the same for him once.
Your figure in the mirror made you feel like something didn't fit, maybe it was the soft tight lingerie that highlighted your skin, maybe it was the leather necklace that it sounded every time you moved or the pointy cat ears on your head. No, it was nothing like that, maybe it was the last accessory on the bed that you left for last, but just looking at it made your skin crawl.
It was a cute, fluffy cat tail.
Although you didn't want to accept it, all of this was embarrassing to you, you had never thought about wearing something like that. You sighed, looking at yourself for the last time in the glass, thinking about what to do, anyway Minho would never find out that you bought the outfit if you hid it.
You looked at the tail again and caressed it, you knew that without it the outfit would make no sense, but a part of you screamed that you looked ridiculous and the thought of what Minho would make you do dressed like that made you nervous.
Maybe you were being too accommodating to him, you threw things on the bed thinking about how things were before you met Minho, no one had ever made you even think about doing something like this, but here you were, in a set of lingerie just for him to tell you what to do.
“This is a bad idea,” you said as you decided where to hide what you bought.
***
Minho's cell phone hadn't stopped ringing the entire time, but no matter how much he wanted to take it out, he remained calm and composed because no one knew that he had a girlfriend. They had kept it a secret for a long time and they both agreed, they liked to be discreet, without pressure, and it was the best thing with the job he had.
He took out his cell phone to see the hundreds of calls he had from you and a single message. “I have a surprise for you <3” and that was enough to say goodbye.
“I have to go” he said, getting up from the table to get out of there.
At first the boys insisted that he stay, but after making excuses they agreed, accepting his decision.
“Do you think you can take me, I want to go too” Minho looked at Jisung looking for something to reject him, but he sighed in agreement. It would be a short way and he could get rid of him quickly he thought.
"you listening?" Minho finally let go of his thoughts and focused on his friend.
“Sorry, I'm distracted.”
“I noticed it” Jisung was not the most observant but he definitely knew that something was wrong with Minho, he kept moving his leg and looked at the time more than usual “are you in a hurry to get there?”
"A little bit"
It wasn't that he didn't want to spend time with his friend, but he hadn't seen you in a while and thinking that you had dialed hundreds of times made him think more than necessary. He just wanted to come into the house and hug you, kiss your sweet skin and sleep next to you until the next morning.
When the car finally stopped Minho didn't wait any longer and took the things from him.
"Bye bye."
"Are you OK? You act strange”
“I'm fine, it's nothing.”
"You're lying to me?"
"Nooo, I really feel good." He opened the car door and tried to say goodbye but he saw Han's worried face. "I'm serious."
“You don't convince me” Minho was losing his patience but he didn't want to be rude so he forced himself to take a deep breath and show a sincere smile.
“Han, why would I lie to you?” Jisung sighed, he knew Minho better than anyone, he knew that he was lying but he didn't understand why and that made him think about many things, "do you want to walk me to the door?"
“I think it would be best.”
Minho sighed tiredly and had no choice but to accept, at first he was worried that Han would see you but knowing you he knew that you would spend it in the room and that you had probably fallen asleep, so he didn't give it much importance and tried to act normal.
“Well, we're here and I'm fine.”
“Are you indirectly telling me to leave?”
"YES" he screamed in his head, but he actually laughed and grabbed his friend's shoulder to hug him.
“Nooo, but you don't want to come in, do you?”
"It would not bother me."
In their entire friendship there was never a time when Han would bother Minho as much as he did today, but it wasn't his fault, he didn't think that his best friend was hiding his girlfriend.
Minho had no choice but to take out the keys and open the door, sighing in annoyance and begging you not to come out, but as soon as he turned on the light he could only curse for not having thrown Han out the window.
The boys' jaws dropped when they saw a half-naked woman lying face down on one of the couches. Pointed ears adorned her head that matched the cute, big tail she wore on her butt. But as Minho had assumed you were asleep, so deeply that you hadn't even realized that someone had entered.
“Ahh… I… Ahhh” Han was still trying to get his eyes to take off from that woman's butt but now he knew why Minho was acting so strange, although the questions piled up in his throat. Who was she? Was she her friend? His lover? Did Minho have a girlfriend?
Minho hurried to close the door in case someone passed by, he was surprised, if this was your surprise he wasn't expecting it, he thought you had new pajamas or that you had bought cute lingerie, but not an animal outfit. He was cursing over and over again not knowing what to do, did he cover you? Did he drag his friend out? But then what? Would you tell others? Would it be his secret? Or would he keep it in some corner of his memory?
"Who is she?"
“This is not the time to ask”
“But… She's naked on your couch.” Han's voice sounded upset and even though he knew he shouldn't be there, his feet were glued to the floor.
"Be quiet"
“Wouldn't it be better if I left?”
“Don't you think it's too late?” Minho was quick to run to where you were and cover your body “we have to talk.”
Han couldn't hear him, he was focused on the girl's silhouette on the couch but he forced himself not to look when his friend came to where you were.
Minho felt a little embarrassed and humiliated, but he didn't want to put you through the same thing, although he could also feel the anger running through his veins at seeing you so calm, as if you were making fun of him.
He sat on the edge of the couch and caressed your bare back going down to the beginning of your panties and he stopped to see what you were wearing, he opened his mouth when he saw the cat's tail. How could you fall asleep with something like that on your ass?
The touch of his fingers made you react and you squirmed as you regained consciousness. You held back the urge to jump on him and hug him, instead you smiled placing your hand on his thigh caressing him.
“Surprise,” you whispered, closing your eyes again.
“I have a surprise for you too,” he said, moving closer to your ear and caressing the ears on your head.
You nodded without thinking, Minho was the only man who could order you anything and you would obey without complaining, even if he didn't ask you, just now that you left your shame aside just to please his fantasies no matter how stupid you felt.
"Yeah?"
“Aha…” Minho turned to look at his friend and you followed his gaze finding Jisung. Their eyes met for a few seconds but Han quickly turned in another direction.
Even though you had never seen him in person you could tell who he was. Han Jisung, Minho's best friend and co-worker. From time to time he used to tell you things about boys but especially about him. Even so, you couldn't help but feel a little exposed and you sat up trying to hide your body.
"What is he doing here? “You invited him without telling me?” Han took a step back as the whispers between you began to take the form of an argument. He was confused and his mind only thought about your butt “I look ridiculous.”
“Shhh it's not what it seems” Minho had regained his composure. He had an idea but he needed your help "this wasn't planned kitty" the nickname made your skin crawl, but it still couldn't calm your nerves "we can't let him go like this" Minho's eyes looked at his still friend and you You did the same, noticing how his hands covered his crotch. “Besides, you've always wanted to have a threesome, right?”
Minho's words seemed unreal. You didn't understand what was happening although his words made you think about the possibilities and the idea made you clench your legs.
"But are you sure?"
“No problem, believe me, I know him better than anyone” Minho caressed your cheek making you look into his eyes again. You were a little scared, but you trusted him, but you remembered the multiple times Minho refused to have a threesome, that was the only thing he hadn't agreed to, but now you could comply. You looked at his friend one last time and analyzed it better, he seemed like a good guy, a little nervous and shy, but you knew that he hadn't stopped looking at you.
With a little hesitation you moved on the couch, making the object in your ass move, reminding you that you were carrying it.
“I don't…”
“I know you too” he grabbed your chin and moved closer to your mouth “don't play dumb.”
Han turned around when he saw Minho kiss you. He was cursing himself for insisting so much on coming, but a part of him was grateful to have been able to see that pretty body of yours. He felt tense and a little sore in his crotch, now what he wanted to do was get to his house to touch his cock thinking about you.
"Are you ready?" He whispered when he took his lips off of you, a little dizzy you nodded trying to maintain your composure while Minho stood up leaving your body exposed again “I'm so sorry Han, I was rude” Jisung didn't dare look at his friend and just said. see the ceiling. Minho smiled, holding back his laughter and continued with sarcasm, “I think I haven't introduced them well. Han, she's my new pet” Jisung looked at you for a microsecond seeing that you had sat on your knees with your hands between your legs “kitty, he's our special guest, why don't you say hello?”
Han was still looking at the ceiling, ignoring his labored breathing when he noticed out of the corner of his eye that you got off the couch and started walking on all fours. Curiosity got the better of him and he met you when you caressed your head with his legs, tilting your torso to leave your butt up.
"Shit, this can't be happening" "it's a dream" Han thought when he noticed the details in your outfit.
“She likes you” Minho took his friend by the shoulder and forced him to walk to the couch “why don't you come with us? Surely you want to stay longer, right?”
Minho was making fun of Han and he knew it but even with his hands on his crotch he didn't know what to do. He didn't want to be an idiot, but when he saw you coming towards them he tried to get up. Minho was stronger and held him back, smiling as you climbed over both of their laps, letting your body fall into the boys' legs with your ass on Jisung's legs.
“Minho… Am…” his hands had been trapped under your body and he could feel the warmth of your belly in them, he was grateful and cursing in equal measure but this was being a lot to process “I… I'm sorry.” , I didn't think that… Umm… You were with someone.”
“It doesn't matter anymore, you're here now.” Minho caressed your head as you moved it over his member and Han swallowed to continue.
"But…"
“Shhh I know what you think” he said in a more serious tone, leaving aside the smile and sarcasm “you better take advantage before I regret it and force you to leave in that state”
Han was left with his mouth open, not knowing what to say and with a thousand questions rolling through his mind, but Minho's look had something that he had never seen before, he didn't want to know if his words were true. He let himself be carried away by the sensation of his member and let out a sigh when he released his hands from your body, revealing his erection in your belly.
Minho's hands in your hair and Han's on your back made you feel more relaxed than you expected. His caresses were soft and delicate, although Han's were a little trembling when they touched your butt. You allowed yourself to close your eyes, enjoying the softness of new hands on your body.
You shifted your hips in Han's lap and cursed when you felt his hardness rub against your pussy.
“Shit” Suddenly Minho grabbed your hair and raised your face, making you open your eyes to look at him.
"What's happening? Can cats talk?” A wave of shame washed over you, but you swallowed your pride and opened your mouth, letting out a low meow.
Han was freaking out, but he wanted to hear you meow again even just a little. He grabbed one of your buttocks and squeezed it, not caring that his friend was close to him. You looked in his direction but Minho held you tighter, making you look at him again with the warning in his eyes, making you meow again. higher.
“Much better,” Minho's mouth crashed onto your lips before protesting and this time Han couldn't help but look away, noticing how his mouths connected perfectly while his tongues played.
“Damn Minho.”
You separated from your boyfriend smiling and stood up to go with Han. Minho felt something light up inside him when he saw how you grabbed the face of his friend and brought him closer to bring his lips together. Han's kisses were softer, more delicate, trying to memorize his movements and control the rhythm. The boy's hands grabbed your face, trying to get you closer to him, putting his tongue in your mouth to taste you. They were starting to gain momentum and seemed to fit together better every second, so much so that you somewhat forgot about Minho putting you on top of Han's legs.
You were immersed in the softness of other lips, the movements of other kisses, the hands of another man touching your waist that when Minho grabbed your breasts from behind to massage them you had to break away to take a breath. Your back collided with his body and showed the spectacle of his caressing Han, who took the opportunity to lick your neck.
Minho managed to get rid of your bra to knead your flesh and pinch your nipples while he watched your face rest on his abdomen and Jisung's mouth devour your neck. His gaze connected and he smiled a little as he saw your eyes begging for more, but he wouldn't give it to you easily, not after seeing how much you enjoyed the kisses and caresses of his friend.
Jisung was intoxicated by your skin, he didn't think any had flavor but yours was sweet and addictive. He couldn't stop and he fit his teeth a little making you let out a moan, he continued going down until he found hands denying him access to your breasts. He dared to look up at his friend and with a growl Minho stopped massaging one to let him continue while he wrapped his fingers around your neck.
Han's tongue drew circles on one of your nipples while the other was crushed between Minho's fingers. You let your fingers tangle in Han's hair as you watched Minho a little displeased without taking your eyes off of him.
You knew what Minho could be if he was jealous and even if you didn't say it you liked him a little, ignoring his gaze you moved your hips forward rubbing yourself on Han's member. The boy's muffled sighs reached Minho's head, he squeezed the grip on your neck looking at you with a sideways smile.
You couldn't focus on just one part of your body, your whole body was immersed in new sensations. Han's mouth on your chest, Minho's fingers on your neck, Han's cock caressing your pussy, Minho's hardness on your back, the growing humidity in your panties, but above all every time you moved you could feel the toy in your ass It wasn't unpleasant, it felt good and it even made you squirm a little to seek more satisfaction. It was something a little new and even though you still thought you looked ridiculous you secretly liked it a little. Being humiliated and obeying Minho tickled your core, but having two men do the same thing made you burn inside.
You couldn't speak and every time you opened your mouth to moan you closed it again, you didn't want to meow again. Seeing it, Minho took the opportunity to make fun of you.
“What's up kitten?” His hand made light pressure on the necklace you were wearing. “Are you thirsty?” Do you want some milk?” You opened your eyes and smiled, dare him a little.
"Yeah"
Minho took your body and you obeyed without resistance. Even with his hand on your neck, he turned you and kissed you, trying to replace the trail of Jisung's kisses, you moaned when you felt his teeth catch your lips while his hands descended to your center. You grabbed his shoulders as you felt the sudden sensation of his fingers massaging your clit and you heard laughter behind you drawing your body to the couch.
They laid you down, placing your head on one end and you could see Han unbuttoning his pants while shame painted your face at the sight of his cock exposed to him. You licked your lips as you saw the drops of semen running down the base to his balls, you shifted, getting comfortable and letting your hair hang a little.
“I'll be good to you, cutie.” Minho ignored the nickname and nodded while his friend looked for approval in his eyes. You opened your lips, feeling the weight of the tip on your tongue. You moaned, sending shivers down Han's spine as he watched you stroke his cock, savoring the first drops.
He couldn't wait any longer, he pushed his hips slowly enjoying the view of how you swallowed his cock and adapted to his size. You moaned as you felt the pressure on your throat as he began to move again to begin his thrusts.
Minho would have been lying if he said he wasn't enjoying it a little, he felt the pressure in his pants every time he saw how your body twitched when Han pushed his hips into your mouth, but he wasn't going to stay behind watching how his friend made you feel good. He placed himself between your legs, separating your knees, revealing the wet spot on your panties and smiled, passing his fingers just to have a little fun. He bit his lips to suppress a moan as he moved the fabric to see your wet pussy and he didn't wait any longer to taste you.
Your legs reacted quickly when you felt Minho's tongue move in your pussy but he held you back, continuing to lick your juices and swirl your clit. You moaned into Han's cock letting a bit of spittle run from the corners of your mouth as you were imprisoned beneath him.
You moved your hips searching for Minho's tongue but his arms quickly held you in place.
“Don't be impatient kitten” Minho watched as Han's face contorted making his last movements while he grabbed your breasts, pressing your nipples to make you moan. He sighs, running his fingers over your entrance, inserting two of them to touch the right spot inside to help his friend get pleasure from him.
Han moved his hips with difficulty as he felt his cock tremble, releasing his load into your mouth. You thirstily swallowed as much as you could but in the end some drops escaped, letting them run down your neck. Han pulled out, but your ragged breathing only made Minho continue pounding his fingers deep into you.
“Min… I'm going to cum.”
“Scream my name kitten” Minho didn't stop, he continued pounding your pussy and he could feel your walls squeeze his fingers and see how you were fighting not to shed tears, your heavy breathing and his name leaving your sweet lips made him almost forget that he had ever met you seen enjoying someone else, when he saw your back arch and clench your fists he stopped denying you the pleasure.
Tears fell, painting your face at Minho's decision, your body was restless and you needed to calm it down. You stood up, staggering a little, if he didn't want to give it to you you would look for someone who would.
You found Han sitting on the single couch and crawled over to him without thinking about your boyfriend. You climbed onto his lap, turning your back to him to look at Minho sitting watching the show. You rolled your hips, feeling Han's cock harden again as he touched your entrance and rubbed your clit. Minho's eyes were dark and flashing warnings at you, but that only made the adrenaline in your body ignite making you spread your legs and line up his friend's cock in your needy pussy.
You sank slowly, drawing moans from Han as he fit his fingers into your skin, you moaned when you felt his full length, you didn't stop when you thought and you began to bounce looking for your own pleasure accompanied by the tinkling of the bell on your neck. You bit your lips without taking your eyes off Minho as you noticed that he had taken his cock out and started massaging it. Han had his face buried in your neck singing praises about how good you felt.
You continued on your way, feeling your body burn with Han's kisses on your back, his hands playing with your breasts, your eyes focused on Minho holding back from cumming in his hand, the way the toy in your ass tightened with each jump you made and how your walls had squeezed Han's cock feeling it tremble.
“Don't stop, cutie” You closed your eyes following the sensation of pleasure throughout your body, you moaned non-stop until the knot in your stomach was released, letting Han continue mixing his juices with you and Minho dripping his hand with his semen. .**
You collapsed into Han's chest and regained your breath, but Minho immediately stood up, stealing you and carrying your tired body.
“Go clean yourself up, I'll take care of her.” Han didn't dare to look at his friend while he carried your body to the room.
You opened your eyes looking at Minho's face as he placed you on the bed and took off your ears and the collar you were wearing.
“Minho…”
"yes darling?" He asked, stroking your hair.
"are you angry?" Minho smiled and denied, kissing your forehead, he always looked for your happiness and was not angry about what had happened although he was not going to admit that he was a little jealous.
You closed your eyes concentrating on his hands, you sighed as you felt his delicate kisses on your chest slowly moving down your abdomen. He turned you around and caressed your buttocks, resisting the urge to caress the cat tail you still wore. He took it and kissed your back, slowly removing it. You couldn't help but moan at the sensations in your body because of how delicate he was. You were exhausted, but not satisfied, you needed him.
“Min…” you turned your head to look at him and blushed just thinking about what you were about to say “I need you.”
You thought he would tease or make you beg for it, but he just leaned in to kiss you, letting his fingers touch your sensitive pussy. You muffled your moans into his mouth as you felt the length of him passing through your pussy. Minho was also needy for you, he didn't have time to joke or play with you, he just wanted to feel you.
He lifted your hips, plunging his cock into your walls and moaned your name. “Are you still so tight after that?” You took the sheets in your hands as you felt the first push of his hips. Minho didn't stop and started following the rhythm that you both liked.
Your sensitive pussy didn't stop clenching around his cock and Minho could only keep bucking his hips, seeking his release. Your legs shook announcing your arrival making your boyfriend pound faster to reach you but in the end you couldn't hold it back and you came all over his cock, but Minho continued to seek his own pleasure.
“Just a little more kitty” Your entire body contracted, you could no longer stand the sensations and you began to cry when you felt so much pleasure. Minho felt his cock tremble inside you and he lay on your back feeling his cum running down your walls spilling up to your thighs “you did well” You closed your eyes resting finally letting Minho take care of the rest.
When Minho finished cleaning you and taking a shower he went out to the living room to see his friend at the door. Han noticed it and he clenched his fists, forcing himself to apologize.
"where are you going?"
“Home… I… I'm so sorry I shouldn't have insisted on coming here… I won't say a word to anyone, I promise.”
Minho laughed and approached his friend.
“I know you won't say anything, forget what just happened, it was just… a game” Minho dragged his friend back inside and checked the time “stay the night, it's already late.”
"oh really?"
"Of course, you're my friend."
“but… the three of us won't fit in the bed” Minho suddenly became serious and separated from Han.
“you will sleep on the floor”
“Hey, I was just joking.” Han went to hug his friend, trying to forget what happened a few hours ago.
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agentrouka-blog · 2 years
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Ok, I don't ship anything in ASOIAF, but seeing certain fans (that have an agenda for certain ships) say that Jon's type is a "willful, warrior woman" is literally not true to the text? LOL. They use Ygritte as an example of his type and I just.....he was literally forced to interact with her while on an undercover mission? Not saying there were no feelings toward her, but it's not as if he had his pick of women and decided to go with her? LOL. I would wager he doesn't even really have a "type" because he just hasn't had enough interactions with women to know what he really likes lol. But the times he is most attracted to Ygritte is when the firelight is playing in her hair or she's singing a song? He thinks about wanting to take her to Winterfell and seeing her in silk dresses?? That man wants a lady wife. Why does he dream that his mother is a beautiful highborn lady (nice classism Jon, since since the fandom is so obsessed with that apparently!) and not some warrior woman?? LOL. I'm not even a Jon fan, or a Jonsa, but I think Jonsas have a better grasp on his character than 90 percent of self-proclaimed Jon fans that think he's some precious cinnamon roll that needs "protecting" him from the "evil Jonsas" LMAO.
You get it, anon.
Jon's personal desires are incredibly quaint, if you can call it that within a feudal context. His most ardent declaration of his dreams concerns being lord of Winterfell, with a wife and kids. Even his past fantasies of conquest or adventure are framed in the context of disproving the stain of his bastardy, his "shameful" daydreaming of heroics are a mere gateway to being recognized as a proper Stark. Receiving an absolutely priceless Valyrian steel sword as a reward for personal bravery? Leaves him cold, makes him angry, because it is not the symbol of belonging he craves. Jon isn't a warrior at heart, he finds no actual fulfillment in combat or violent adventure.
He consistently, specifically admires soft traits. We never see him express romantic admiration or desire at martial prowess. He respects it! But it is not what attracts him to anyone.
This is a teenager who's essentially fantasizing about becoming a dad and playing catch with his kids in the backyard of a Very Nice House with a nebulous image of a wife who somehow corresponds to what he projects onto Val when he calls her a "worthy wife for any lord", which at that moment is smart and resourceful, diplomatic, beautiful and maternal.
QUAINT.
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