#off to fulfill his destiny
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lauravian · 1 year ago
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Little Merlin going on an adventure
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angelsdean · 7 months ago
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seeing a post that gets some things right (interesting complex john thoughts) but other parts dead wrong (bad dean takes) has me like *eye twitch*
#reducing a complicated plot to dean hates all monsters and thinks every monster needs to be killed is um. first of all not even canon#do i need to bring out all the posts abt dean's monster ethics and how he thinks a monster is someone who hurts / kills innocent ppl#and that definition includes humans who do monstrous things too (a theme explored in multiple episodes in s1 !!!!)#but anyways. no he did not think jack should be killed bc he was ~not human~ he thought jack was a Dangerous supernatural being#since ya know. he Was. literally thee most powerful being after god / amara. and they had no idea what he might do. he was not their Baby#or their Kid yet. he was a stranger. a strange new supernatural being that they might have to stop.#s12 finale literally leaves off on a cliffhanger positioning jack to potentially be the new 'Big Bad'#so he's a stranger AND the son of lucifer (they had no idea how that would affect jack yet) AND he seemingly brainwashed cas and kelly#bc remember cas was all about Free Will and Choice and Fuck Heaven / Paradise / Peace#and then suddenly he's going against his core beliefs talking abt paradise on earth and jack needing to fulfill his Destiny like ???#i'd be sus af too if i were dean#dean had no reason to trust jack right off the bat. 'oh but he should've trusted him bc cas did' ok and cas is dead now so ??#then there's the soulless jack stuff which is a whole other complicated beast. and dean was not the only one trying to stop jack then eithe#but anyways. no you cannot reduce dean's complex feelings abt jack to simply 'lol dean hates monsters and wants them all dead'#he doesn't. half his family and friends are literally monsters. anyways.#vic.txt
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seospicybin · 4 months ago
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THE EQUATION.
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Seungmin x reader x Lee Know. (s)
Synopsis: Seungmin trusts nothing but numbers and dating you slightly changes that notion until Minho comes and mess the equation. (12,1k words)
Author's note: You guys have been asking for 2min content so here it is. Hope you like x
Unlike people, numbers don't lie. Politics, poetry, promises... those are lies but numbers, they are absolute, they are tangible and they will never lie or betray him. Numbers are what they are: the truth.
And that's why Kim Seungmin prefers to work with numbers, as an analyst at an investment trust company. His job includes analyzing bonds, stocks, and other financial instruments, studying the economic data and the financial markets, and recommending investments. He spends time predicting investment returns through various modeling techniques and assessing the risk of investments.
However, there's one thing in Seungmin's life that he couldn't predict with numbers and statistics, and that is you.
First of all, Seungmin is at the peak of his career, he likes his job and he enjoys what he's doing, in other words, he's living a fulfilling life his way.
Seungmin would rather use the time to bring in billions' worth of investments than waste it on something as frivolous as dating.
That was his initial thought until he met you one random afternoon at a cafe.
It's funny that the cafe is one that he regularly visits to get his morning coffee and somehow, he needed another cup of coffee after work, and of all the possibilities, you were the one taking his order even though you're the manager, not one of the baristas.
Seungmin is not one to believe in such things as fate or destiny but he has no other way to explain it, it feels like at that moment, the universe was trying to bring him and you together.
The next thing Seungmin knows, he's been dating you for six months now, and in those six months, he learned that dating seemed frivolous to him at that time because he hadn't met the right person yet. He also learns that not everything that is not tangible or absolute and not presented in data or statistics are lie.
There are three things that Seungmin believes are true: He likes you, he's happy with you and every day, he likes you more and more thus making him happier and happier.
-
Look at him now! Seungmin gets nervous knowing that he's late for dinner at your place, his foot tapping against the floor of the elevator as it takes him up to your floor.
The second the doors slide open, he walks as fast as he can while cradling the bottle of wine in his arm and carrying his briefcase in the other hand.
Despite knowing the code to your apartment, Seungmin prefers the doorbell. He holds all of his things in one arm to free his hand and presses the doorbell to alert you that he's here, then lets out a sigh.
It isn't much about the fact that he's nineteen minutes late, he's nervous about something else and the thought of it makes his hand fly to the back of his head, getting that weird feeling as he touches his hair that is now short.
The door swings open and your face lights up the moment your eyes lie on him.
"Baby!" You squeal in joy and jump at him, welcoming him with an enthusiastic hug and almost knocking his glasses off his nose.
With the things he carries in one arm, Seungmin can only hug you back as much as he can, and a while later, you pull away and open the door wider for him.
"I have to hurry and stir the sauce," you excuse yourself as you turn around and head straight back inside.
Seungmin doesn't get the chance to apologize for his tardiness, he lets himself in and takes his coat off, then carefully puts his briefcase down on the nearest chair.
He brings the bottle of wine with him as he joins you in the kitchen, "Bought us a bottle of wine."
You briefly glance at it and delightfully exclaim, "Red wine! That's perfect!"
Then you put your focus back on the sauce in the pan, stirring it with a wooden spatula in slow, circular motions, and once it bubbles up, you turn the stove off.
"Okay, now I can properly welcome my boyfriend home," you sweetly say as you approach him with open arms.
Seungmin hurriedly puts down the bottle of wine on the kitchen counter to keep it safe and also, to properly return your hug this time.
"Hi," you mutter with a smile as you put your hands around him and drop them on his shoulders, "I miss you."
It's something else that Seungmin can't find the logical explanation for it but when he's with you, the chemistry in his body drastically changes the second you enter his radar, he feels a surge of dopamine, he feels instant comfort and his body relaxed, and the moment both of your lips collide in an explosive kiss, his heart palpation.
All of a sudden, your lips stiffen against him and you slowly pull away, then bring your hand to the nape of his neck, tangling it in his short hair.
"Wait... did you cut your hair?" You ask with a sly smile on your face.
"Yeah, I did," Seungmin answers.
You take a moment to check his new haircut and at the same time, admire how it accentuates his already perfect facial features and how the dark of his hair adds intensity to his eyes.
"Do you like it?" He shyly asks.
You drop your hands around his neck and pull him close, "I love it," you reply.
Then you lean in for another kiss, harder and deeper while steering his body until his back meets the door of the fridge. You put your whole weight, putting your body against him until your bodies mold into each other.
When he's with you, his brain stops controlling his body and his heart takes over, making the chemistry in his body want only you and you and you.
And, oh, how good it feels that he gets what he wants and you're just for him and him only.
The beeping sounds coming from the oven interrupt the moment and you immediately pull away from the kiss to get to it.
"To be continued," you tell him with a sly smile.
Curls of steam escape the oven as you open it and the mouth-watering smell wafts around in the room, evoking his appetite. You put mitts on both hands and cautiously, take the tray out of the oven, revealing the perfectly roasted chicken.
Aware that you must put a lot of effort into making dinner, Seungmin knows that he, at least, should contribute to it apart from the bottle of wine he brought.
"Is there anything I can help you with?" He asks.
You take your oven mitts off and put them away, "You can open the bottle of wine and bring the glasses to the table."
Before doing what you order, Seungmin unbutton his cuffs and folds the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbow. He starts by opening the wine bottle and pulling the cork open with a loud popping sound. He then brings it to the table along with the two wine glasses he carries in one hand, he meticulously pours the wine and the aphrodisiac smell fills his nostrils as he takes a small sip at it.
The roasted chicken is just as delicious as it looked and the lemon dill sauce is just the perfect condiment, even better that the red wine complements the whole thing. It's such a simple yet heartwarming dinner, that Seungmin finds himself completely at ease and unknowingly lowering his guard down.
"...I think they miss their figures so I said let's increase by 15% because I was sure they'll strike gold with the new product line," Seungmin passionately shares a bit of his day at work.
"And I guess, you were right?" You ask before shoving a spoonful of food into your mouth.
"There was a line around the corner on the release date, I was right," he confirms with a small smile.
And when he's at ease like this, he can comfortably talk about almost anything with you and he's aware that it may bore you.
"Did I bore you?" He meekly asks.
"No," you hastily answer, placing your hand on his hand that rests on the table.
"You know I like it when you talk numbers," you add with a soft smile.
"This is really good, by the way," he says, averting the conversation to the food you cooked so incredibly.
"Glad you like it, baby," you say with a gentle squeeze on his hand.
There are no numbers or data that can tell Seungmin the reason why you like him, neither his look nor personality are that appealing and you are the opposite of that, you're beautiful and charming, you're so well-spoken, and now, you have proven that you're a good cook too.
Once again, he can't find the logical explanation to that but he's lucky to have met you.
Seungmin pours more wine into both of your glasses as you tidy up the kitchen after dinner, he sits on the sofa and waits for you to join him. You put on music through the portable speaker and the slow beat of the song softly plays in the background.
"Thank you," you say as you take the glass of wine from his hand.
The sofa fits three people but you opt to sit on Seungmin's lap, straddling him without spilling the wine in your hand. You take a small sip before putting it away on the coffee table.
"Thank you for the hearty dinner," he sincerely mutters his gratitude and he knows he has said it more than a dozen times already.
"If you're really thankful, where's my kiss then?"
Knowing that it would be a hassle, he takes his glasses off first and then puts his arms around you to draw you close. The hand that rests on the nape of your neck allows him to angle your head as he pleases and then slowly, he puts his lips on yours, conveying his gratitude through a kiss.
"Thank you," he murmurs when he breaks the kiss.
"You're very welcome," you reply.
You lay your hands on his shoulders and then glide them down his shoulder blade, feeling how broad and muscular they are. Then you bring your hands to the back of his hands, gently pulling at the short hair there.
"Did you sync your hair appointment with my menstrual cycle or something?"
Seungmin snorts at the random question, "No. Why?"
"Then why did you get a haircut when I'm ovulating, mmh?" You ask, purposely bumping your nose at his.
"No, that's not—" his words get cut off as you put a finger on his lips.
"Oh, stop playing dumb!" You tell him, putting your finger away so you can kiss him.
You kiss him hard until his head tilted to the back and he has no choice but to give in, letting your body pressed against him.
Seungmin gets light-headed from the kiss as he prioritizes kissing you back instead of breathing, and you know what? It's worth every second of it even though his lungs burn from the lack of oxygen.
Sensing that you both need a breather, you pull away from the kiss and slightly turn his head to the side to place kisses on his jaw.
"I think you should take responsibility for your actions," you whisper to him.
"I didn't do anything," he innocently says with a low chuckle.
His hand trails down your spine and stops on the arch of your back, his nails dug at your clothed skin as you plant searing kisses on his neck with your hot breath tickling his ear.
"I think you should put a baby in me," you softly whisper.
Not only the words secretly arousing him, it's also the way a sly smile blooms on your face after you say it, oh, he couldn't be more attracted to you!
"In this economy?" He asks with an eyebrow raised in disagreement.
"Yeah, you're right but..." You put your hands on his chest and put a space between your faces, "we can start by having unprotected sex."
He laughs at that and puts his hands on your thighs, "And risk to actually put a baby in you?"
You roll your eyes at him, sighing as your hands slump down his chest. With a deep breath, you try again in a way that intrigues him.
"If we're talking about the success rate of birth control, it's 99%," you begin your explanation.
"Yeah, but—"
You stop him from cutting you off by covering his mouth with your fingers, "Yeah, I know. I might have missed a pill or two but that only decreased the success rate to 93% which means..."
You put your hands around his neck and continue with your explanation, "There's only a 7% chance that you'll actually put a baby in me."
He glides his hands up to hold each side of your waist, "And that means 7 out of 100 pill users get actual babies in them."
"Yeah, but I'm part of the 93%," you confidently remark.
"Or you could be in the 7%," he argues.
"Uhh... I wouldn't be so sure. 7 has never been my lucky number anyway," you simply state, adding a nonchalant shrug at the end.
What you said is so out of pocket that it amuses him so much and he thinks that's why he likes you, you're unpredictable. In fact, you're the only unpredictable thing that he likes in his life.
"And maybe this will change your mind..." you say, untying your dress open and revealing enough to show the bra you're wearing underneath.
"How's that?" You adorably tilt your head to the side as you ask him.
Seungmin tries to remain calm even though he gets the urge to just rip your dress open and expose more of you to him. He looks away and stares at your face, but you're taking his hand and making him cupping your breast.
"I'm wearing it for you," you seductively say.
He's feeling the lacey fabric of your bra instead of kneading on your breast, "Yeah?"
"Uh-huh, and it comes with matching underwear too," you share, parting your dress open until it's completely off of you.
As of this moment, his self-control is being tested and he doesn't know how long until he folds. He holds his breath as his eyes travel down your body, quietly lusting at it.
You slowly bring your head close and sweetly peck his lips, "Do you like it?"
He rubs his hands up and down your sides, then looks up at you, "Yes."
"Yes, what?" You lean in closer until the tip of your nose bumps his cheek.
"I like it," he speaks so low it's almost like a whisper.
You smile at his answer and react more by pressing your lips on his lips. The more you kiss him, the more he doesn't want to let go, he just wants to keep kissing you until he runs all of the air in his body.
All of a sudden, you break the kiss with a gasp and slyly smile at him, "This is just one of my two-part plans," you tell him.
"What's the second part then?" He curiously asks with his fingertips lightly tracing your collarbone.
The sly grin on your face doesn't tell much but he knows it is something that will amuse him. You take his glasses on the coffee table and put them back on him.
"Keep your glasses on 'cause I want you to closely watch me take you in my mouth."
With his glasses on, Seungmin watches you take him into your mouth, how your luscious lips wrap around his length, and the way you swirl your slick, hot tongue around his tip. All the while, your hand takes care of the rest that you can't take into your mouth.
Don't get him started on the eyes you're giving him as half of his cock disappeared into your mouth, they're innocent and filthy at the same time, and he doesn't know how you do that but you're doing it so well.
He's sure that his hard cock shows how much he wants you and if not, well then, he just needs to take things further himself.
"Okay, fine, your two-part plan worked," he mutters with his hand tangled in your hair.
"I know," you cockily say to him.
He puts his other hand in your hair and then tilts your head to make you look at him, "Come sit on my lap!"
You obey him, pulling him out of your mouth and slowly, getting up from the carpeted floor. You take a step closer and he stops you right there.
"Just a second..." he says.
He looks up at you as you stand right in front of him, he trails his hands down the sides of your body and then tugs his fingers at the elastic band of your underwear. Without looking away from your eyes, he pulls it down your legs until it drops and pools around your ankle.
One corner of your mouth curls into a smirk as he puts his hand on the back of your knee and lifts it, resting your foot on his thigh. This position allows him to bring his mouth close to your heating core and a whimper falls out of your mouth the second his lips make contact with your tender flesh.
The glasses stay on because he knows how much you like seeing it turn foggy as he goes down on you. He doesn't need to look anyway to please you with his mouth.
He sticks his tongue out to tease your clit in a kitten lick before taking it whole in his mouth and sucking it real hard.
"Oh, baby..." you breathlessly moan as you tug at his hair in reaction to his stimulation.
Seungmin slowly lets go, he replaces his mouth with his hand, repeatedly running his fingers between your folds that your essence drenched all over them.
"Can't wait to be inside you," his voice hoarse and heavy with lust. He then retracts his hand, shoving his fingers coated with your essence, and licks them clean.
Seungmin scoots himself to the back of the sofa and then he holds his arms out at you to help you, but he lets his intrusive thoughts win, he pulls you hard until you fall on his lap.
You're giggling as you settle yourself on his lap and immediately put your hands around his shoulders, "eager, are we?"
He brings your head close for a kiss as you part his shirt open, and he briefly sits up straight so you can take it off of him. He wastes no time to put his arms around you after, drawing you close until there is no inch of gap left between your bodies.
To make it fair, he unclasps your bra and then pulls the straps down your shoulders, you do the rest by taking it off of you, letting it drop to the floor.
He likes how your breasts hang so beautifully on your chest and they look so soft, he can't help but feel them too. As he kneads on them, he can feel the ample flesh mold into his hands.
"Aren't they just perfect in your hands, mmh?" You murmur, kneading them together with his hands.
Yes, they do, he answers in his head and it makes him believe that your breasts were made just for him. He gently squeezes on them as he buries his head in between with his lips resting on your sternum.
You kiss the top of his head and cradle his head in your hands, your fingers lightly scratching the back of his head as you softly sigh, "My baby..."
Seungmin only knows how to dominate, always in control and being on top of the game but with you, he doesn't care about all that. With you, he just wants to be held and taken care of, and ultimately, loved.
Heaven really is a place on earth with you.
And he's about to enter real heaven when you slowly lower yourself on him. No rubber, no layer of protection just like you asked, it's just you and your warm velvety walls tightly wrapped around his length. Both of your lips instantly locked in a kiss again the moment he's fully buried inside you.
It's nothing like he imagined it would feel like, it's a thousand times better and when you start rocking your hips, Seungmin realizes that his self-control is going to be an issue.
As you keep pulsating your hips at a steady pace, you hold on to the back of the sofa for support and keep your face only inches away from his.
"Tell me, baby!" You murmur.
"Do I feel good, mmh?" You ask, then hastily kiss his open mouth.
You don't see him struggling, do you? Let alone able to compute words to answer your question but he hopes you can see how overwhelmed he is as you rock your hips back and forth.
"Cause you feel so good inside me, baby," you murmur into his ear.
"Oh, I can feel you all over me," you add with a hot kiss on his neck.
He roughly pulls your head close to press a kiss on your lips, grabbing a fistful of your hair in his hand as he keeps kissing you as a way to contain his grunts.
"You're close, mmh?" Your lips graze his as you speak.
There's no use to lie, he's inside you and you can feel him throbbing, wanting to shoot his load at any given time now.
"You're just too good," He simply admits, gliding his hands to your back and pulling you close.
"Are you going to cum for me then?"
"Yes," he shortly answers
"Inside me, yeah?"
He nods, pathetically.
Taking that as a confirmation, you pick up the pace, sending your breasts bouncing right in front of his face but his hands are too busy gripping each side of your waist, desperately trying to slow you down but failing.
"Mmh, yeah, cum for me, baby," you murmur before crashing your lips against him.
Surrendering himself to the need, Seungmin wraps his arms around you so tightly that your breasts are squashed between your chest. His eyes are screwed shut, his body is hot all over like someone kindle a fire inside him.
Despite his tight hold around you limiting your mobility, you maintain the pace, arching your back to provide more depth for him and add intensity to it.
"Cum, fill me, baby," you softly whisper with your lips brushing his jaw.
Seungmin is no longer in control of his body, his desire gets to him and takes him where he needs to be. The pleasure keeps on building up and up and he won't stop until he—
"Argh!" A raw groan spills out of his mouth, then he hurriedly plants his mouth on your shoulder to muffle it.
You finally slow down and hold him close, cradling his head in your chest as he relishes the waves of pleasure lapping over him.
As senses gradually come back to him, Seungmin tilts his head up and pulls you for a kiss, a kiss that feels tender and chaste, the kind that knocks your heart open.
"I love you," he blurts out.
"Oh?" You react with a perplexed gasp.
It surprises him too that he just blurted those words out, he didn't plan on saying it, heck! He didn't even think of saying it but now that the words are out, he knows that it's coming from deep within him.
"You didn't say that just because you're still inside me, right?" You playfully ask.
He innocently shakes his head but changes his mind in the next second, "Uhm... maybe? A part of it because of that," he jokingly says.
"I knew it!" You exclaim and squint your eyes at him.
He brings his hands to your shoulders and then cups your face in both hands, holding it with so much care as if you were a fragile object.
"I love you," he mutters with utmost sincerity and his heart hurts from saying those words out loud, in a good way.
"Me too," You smile and softly brush the hair curtaining his forehead, then place a soft kiss on it, "I love you."
His heart is full knowing that his feelings are being reciprocated and that makes him the happiest he's ever been, and the fact that it comes from something that is beyond him is what makes it special. He cups your jaw and kisses you so sweetly with a heart that loves you until it hurts so good.
"Seungmin," you softly call his name against his lips.
"Yes?"
"Can you put more love in me?"
"With pleasure," he gladly answers.
The music that faintly plays in the background is being replaced with the skin-slapping sounds and both of your breathy moans.
You're lying underneath him, hands gripping each side of the cushion your head resting on, eyes shut with a sheen of sweat coating your body.
"Oh, baby, yes," you moan through your gritted teeth.
Seungmin is using all of his strength, thrusting hard into you, and in each thrust, he tries to go as shallow as possible, hitting you right in the spot.
"Oh, please..." you cry and beg, sounding like you're in pain.
"Please, please, please," you beg again, but he knows that you're asking for more.
He's going impossibly fast that the sofa is creaking along to his movements but even if it breaks, he won't stop. He needs to give you your release and at the same time, he can't help himself but get the pleasure of giving it to you.
"Seungmin, please, please..." you beg again, your eyes closed so tightly that tears squeeze out of the corners of your eyes.
It's the way you're calling him so desperately and with so much neediness that drives him to keep going. He grips the handrest of the sofa as leverage and thrusts into you harder and harder that the muscles on his body are strained and his body is close to giving out.
"Seungmin, please..." you breathlessly moan again.
Yeah, that's right, he's the only one who can give it to you and he's going to give it to you just right.
A mix of a moan and a cry rips out of you as your body stiffens and then softens in the next second, overflowing with immense pleasure.
Seungmin slows his thrusting but adds intensity, he can feel it coming as well. With the way you're clenching around him, it doesn't take him long to finally cum for the second time.
He launches his cock as deep as possible to plant his seed inside you and lowers his mouth on yours to fill his need to be one with you.
It's the most intimate he's ever been with someone, it doesn't feel like physical fulfillment anymore, it's bonding, it's trust, and he believes it's what people call making love.
After a while, Seungmin lets go and slowly, pulls out of you. With your legs still spreading open, he can see how your cunt is drenched with your mixed bodily fluid and pulsating, and a while later, he can see the white of his seed dripping out of you and he can't believe how much he cum inside of you as it now drips onto the sofa. It's a highly erotic thing to watch and satisfies him in a whole new way.
"Are you sure you're not trying to put a baby in me 'cause that was..." you can barely finish your words. You brush away the hair stuck to your moist forehead and let out an exhausted sigh.
Seungmin quietly and triumphantly smiles, he hovers above you and places a long, lingering kiss on your lips. As soon as he breaks the kiss, he looks at you and says, "Well, 7 has never been my lucky number either."
-
Since his job requires him to work late almost every night, Seungmin only meets you on the weekends and he'll stay over, even if it means he has to go to work early on a Monday morning.
"Stay," you mumble with your eyes closed, not letting him stop cuddling you on the bed.
"You can sleep some more," he whispers into your ear, along with a soft kiss on your neck.
"No, stay," you mumble again, taking his arm and putting it around you.
It's always like this every Monday morning, you're not letting him go and he'll cave in, then he'll cuddle you for a few more minutes, peppering you with kisses before dragging himself out of the bed.
If he has to choose, he'd rather stay in bed with you all day but he has other responsibilities to do and it involves a lot of people, not just him.
When Seungmin returns from the shower, you're sitting on the bed with his glasses on, your eyes immediately traveling up and down his glistening wet body, but they focus on the towel that lowly hangs around his hips.
"Oh... mama!" You gasp in delight, your teeth faintly bite your lower lip.
Flustered, he hurriedly walks up to you and takes his glasses off of you, then puts them on him. He gives your cheek a soft caress and then kisses the top of your head.
"You should sleep some more," he suggests as he saunter to your closet where he keeps some of his clothes in there.
"Why would I do that when I can watch my hot, nerdy boyfriend getting dressed to save the nation's economy from collapsing?" You playfully remark, sitting on the bed while hugging your knees.
As he chooses what to wear for the day, he looks over his shoulder at you and asks, "Who's going to make coffee then?"
"Oh, yeah, right," you sigh and pout, "you only date me because of my coffee."
"That's right," he responds with a sly smile.
You get up from the bed and come up to him, slipping your arms under and around him for a hug. You place kisses on the skin on his chest, shoulder, and neck, and eventually, your lips find his.
"Wear the blue shirt," you suggest, pointing at the baby blue shirt inside the closet before turning around on your feet, and heading out of the room so he can get dressed.
The blue shirt surely looks good on him but he can't remember wearing it or bringing it to your place, also, it's a bit tight around the shoulders. He heads to the kitchen where you're busy making coffee for him.
"Are you sure this shirt is mine?" He asks in confusion.
"Of course, it's yours, you silly," you hastily answer and then put down the coffee pot to take a good look at him, "What's wrong?
Seungmin takes a seat on the stool that is pushed against the kitchen island, "It's a bit tight around the shoulders."
You deliver his cup of coffee and then run your hands through his shoulder blades, "That's because you have such sexy, broad shoulders," you whisper into his ear.
He turns his head to the side and you immediately capture his lips in a kiss. You break the kiss to place more kisses on his face and neck.
"Now, eat your breakfast, champion!" You order.
You stand there behind the kitchen island to watch him take his first sip of the coffee you make, and as expected, it's as good as the first time had a taste of it and it also brings back the memories of how he met you that night.
"How is it?"
"Perfect!" He answers with a smile.
It's never just a goodbye kiss with you, it's a full-on makeout with bodies pressed and pushed against the wall, its lips and tongue, and occasional bites in between.
Seungmin has to stop you from going in for another kiss as he still needs air to breathe. He holds you close but keeps his face a safe distance away from yours, his height helps with his.
"You have the night shift tonight," he says.
"Uh-huh."
"You better go get some sleep after this," he suggests.
"One more kiss then," you sweetly ask.
Seungmin has no power to resist you, especially when you look at him with crinkles in your eyes. It would make him a bad man if he said no to that.
"Just one," he makes a compromise.
"Just one, yes," you repeat with an eager nod.
He finds you so cute acting like a puppy like that, he has no other reason but to give you what you want. He slowly leans in and kisses you, ever so softly despite feeling like fireworks are going off inside his chest.
"I have to go," he says once he breaks the kiss.
You don't say anything but pout to him, clinging to him to let him know you don't want him to go.
"I'll see you soon, mmh?" He says with a smile and a long peck on the lips as a consolation.
That seems to cheer you up as a smile blooms on your face, you hug him close, embracing all of him before taking a step back so he can walk out of the door.
"Have a great day at work!" You say as you linger by the doorway and with a sweet smile, you let him go.
A couple of days later, Seungmin receives a call from you but it comes at a bad time, he's in a meeting and he ends up getting two missed calls from you.
You know better to not call him when he's working but it seems urgent so he goes to the office lounge to call you back.
"I'm late," you suddenly share right after you accept the call.
"Late?" He asks in confusion.
There is a pause and then you explain, "My period is late."
The moment you both decided to have unprotected sex, Seungmin prepared himself for a situation like this. He knows that other than he needs to take responsibility for it but checking in on your well-being comes on top of his priority.
"Are you okay?" He asks in slight concern.
"I'm okay," you answer.
"Do you want me to come and be with you?" He offers, even though he doubts he'll be able to do that but that's something he can deal with later.
"No, it's okay. I just..." you pause to inhale air, "I just think that you need to know."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm about to take pregnancy tests," you inform.
"Okay, well, it's better if you take two tests just in case the result is inconclusive," he carefully suggests, keeping his voice low as he's still in his workplace.
"Yeah, okay," you take in his suggestion.
"Hey, it's going to be okay?" He assures you because he knows that's what you actually seek at this moment, an assurance that things are going to be alright no matter what.
"I know," you meekly say.
"I love you," he says because he has nothing else to show you how much he cares and loves you, and he can hear you smiling at the end of the line.
"I love you too," you say with a slight cheery tone.
The two of you let those words hang in the air and let that be the only thing that exists in this dire moment.
After a moment, you sigh into the phone and say, "Well, I'm going to pee on these pregnancy tests and will tell you about the results."
"I'll look forward to it," he playfully responds.
It's normal for him to feel nervous about the results but surprisingly, he doesn't feel scared at all. If anything, it makes him start thinking about his future with you, and if you turned out to be pregnant then it simply means he'd have another part of you that he can love.
That's all he can think about at work, not numbers or statistics, but how wonderful it would be to build a family with you.
As he's deep in his thoughts, his phone vibrates on his desk. He turns it over to check and fumbles on his seat when he notices that it's multiple new texts from you.
"Guess what?" You wrote on the first text, and below it a picture of the pregnancy tests and both showing negative results.
"Told you, seven has never been my lucky number," you wrote in the following text with a smiling emoji.
It's a good thing that you don't call or you would hear the slight disappointment in his voice, but at the same time, he feels a sort of relief. Well, this only means that Seungmin only needs to postpone his plan on building a family with you.
"That damn seven percent," he jokingly wrote in his reply to you.
As a sort of joke, Seungmin decided to get off work early, and bought flowers along with a card he personally wrote on it that says, "Congratulations on being in the 93%!"
He knows you're having night shift for the whole week so the plan is to catch you right on the closing time and surprise you with the flowers.
Seungmin is not big on grand, romantic gestures like this but it shouldn't be something he should be ashamed of doing. It's all about the intention and he believes that the thing earlier was quite a shock to you so his intention is purely to brighten up your day and hopefully, make you feel better.
The taxi pulls up at the side of the street across the cafe, he can see that he comes right on time as you're locking up the place. He has to walk a little further to the crosswalk while carrying the flowers in one hand. He's watching as you lock up the café and pulling at the door to make sure it's completely locked.
As you hoist the strap of your bag higher on your shoulder, you turn around on your feet and Seungmin hurriedly waves his hand your way even though it's doubtful that you'll see him.
However, your face lights up like you usually do whenever you see him, your eyes sparkle, and a radiant smile. His heart is pounding as he starts to eagerly wave his hand at you only to find out that you're looking at someone else.
A guy comes out of the car parked right outside the café and you walk up to him, not stopping him as he hugs you. It's not just a friendly hug, the guy holds you close and lifts you off the ground for a moment, sending you giggling with your head bumping close to him.
Seungmin unconsciously follows the crowd crossing the street and when he finally gets to the side of the street, he sees that the two of you are kissing, lips locked with arms around each other.
He takes slow, hesitant steps toward you to see if it's really you and you're aware that you're kissing someone that is not him. He stops on his track as the guy spins you to the side and you open your eyes to see him standing there.
In that moment, your eyes meet and the expression on your face significantly turns into a panic one. From the look of it, it finally registered to him that you're fully aware of what you're doing.
"What is this?" He asks in utter confusion at you.
You immediately push the guy you've just kissed to approach him, "Seungmin, I can explain!" You say.
There's nothing to explain when he saw everything with his own eyes, unless you think he's blind or losing his mind, that's the only explanation he needed.
You walk toward him in such caution like approaching a wild animal, "Seungmin, please, wait, I can—"
But he's no longer looking at you, he's looking at the other guy and how flippant he is at this whole situation. He's mad beyond belief and before he obliterates everything around him, he turns around on his feet to leave.
"Seungmin!" You call his name out loud and he can hear you break into tears after.
"Fuck this," He mutters out of spite, tossing the flowers into the trash bin. He ignores your desperate calls and keeps walking away, not looking back.
-
Men lie, women lie, and numbers, after all, can be manipulated which makes it a lie. In other words, everything is a lie.
Even Seungmin is lying to himself, he pretends that he's alright even though the truth is he's far from alright. He can't believe that a week ago he thought of building a family with someone he's only known for six months, six fucking months and you turned out to be cheating on him.
The only thing that he believes in is this anger he feels whenever he thinks of you and it's more infuriating that he can't find the outlet for it. It seems like he has to keep it in until he dies.
His phone vibrates on his desk and he hates that his heart gets hopeful, thinking that it's a text from you when the truth is you stopped contacting him two days ago and he knows it's because he didn't respond to any of them, but deep down, he hopes it's you.
Full of anticipation, he checks his phone and sees that he has received a series of texts from an unknown number. It's probably work-related texts so he ignores it for a while until the curiosity wins over him.
"So, you're the other boyfriend," is what is written in the text.
"Who is this?" He quickly replies.
"It's Minho. The boyfriend," he writes along with multiple pictures of you and him.
If his goal is to make him jealous, he's succeeded at that and now that the goal is achieved, what else there is?
"What do you want?" Seungmin gets defensive.
"Does this mean you give her up, huh?"
It's not giving you up when he decides to break up with you after finding out that you cheated on him. Before Seungmin can compose a reply to that, a new text appears.
"I'm the better man anyway," Minho writes and he knows he does it to provoke him.
What a shame that Seungmin is not triggered and decides not to stoop to his level. Minho is free to think that he gives you up or he's a better man than him, Seungmin doesn't care at all!
However, his ignorance only lasts for a couple of days until Minho comes up with a text that has one clear purpose and that is to light Seungmin's short fuse.
"Come and watch me fuck her better than you did?" Minho wrote on the text along with a video of you, lying naked on the bed with his hand going all over you.
As if that isn't enough, Minho sends another video and Seungmin knows better not to open it but he does anyway. The next video is of him filming himself fucking you through the mirror that he knows for sure is in your bedroom and he can hear your moans in the background.
"Did you say something?" Minho asks as he turns the camera to you.
"Please!" You say.
"Please, what?"
"Please, Minho, I want to cum," you plead with your eyes red and teary.
With the rage that blinds him and jealousy that burns him from the inside, Seungmin rides in the back of the taxi in the middle of the night with both hands balled into fists on his lap and his chest heaving in anger on the way to your place.
He skips on the knocking on the door and punches the passcode into your place, letting himself in. A while later, you come to the door, looking unruly but fully dressed, it looks like he's just disturbed your slumber instead of catching you sleeping with another guy.
"Seungmin," you say his name in a mix of confusion and surprise.
Seungmin would be lying if he didn't miss hearing you call his name but he reminds himself he's not here for that, he came here for something else.
"Where is he?" He asks as he walks past you. He starts looking for him in every room in your apartment while you're trailing behind him.
"Who?" You ask in utter confusion.
"Your boyfriend," he simply answers, pushing the door to your bedroom and seeing that no one is on the bed except for a messy pile of duvet.
"He's not here and I haven't seen him in a week," you tell him.
He avoids looking into your eyes and walks up to the bathroom, pushing the door open with his hand only to reveal that you're telling the truth.
"Why? Isn't he your boyfriend? Shouldn't you with him?" He asks you, going out of the bedroom to check the laundry room near the kitchen.
"Because I needed the space. I got heartbroken when you broke up with me," you meekly answer.
Maybe he was foolish for not knowing you lied behind his back but how dare you lie right to his face now? Seungmin stops looking and turns around to look at you, he scoffs in exaggeration.
"Don't lie to me," he says to you with a sarcastic smile.
"I'm not. I am still devastated that we broke up," you genuinely admit with tears pooling in your eyes.
Hearing someone enter the passcode to your door, you hurriedly wipe your eyes before the tears roll down your cheeks and head to the door to check who is it.
"Minho, what are you—" You can't barely finish your sentence as he presses a kiss on your lips.
"Minho, this is not a good time," you say to him, but he walks further inside while holding your hand.
Without having to look, Seungmin knows that it's the man he's looking for and he realizes Minho was never here, he sent all those videos just to trap him and he fell right into it.
"You came, huh?" Minho says to him with a faint smirk on his face.
That is enough to trigger Seungmin, he takes a step forward and closes the gap between their bodies, "What's your problem?"
You immediately get in between and push them away from each other until there's a safe distance between them, "Minho, please, don't!"
"I don't know why I'm here," Seungmin mutters, pushing his way in the direction of the door.
You block the way and take both of his hands, "No, Seungmin, please, stay!" You beg with pleading eyes.
"Nah, babe, just let him go!" Minho says with a rather mocking tone at Seungmin while leaning the side of his body against the wall.
"You both stay!" You tell both of them, dragging Seungmin back inside and making him sit on the sofa. You glare at Minho next, gesturing him to also sit on the sofa, and with a sigh, he obeys to your order.
They're sitting so far apart from each other and you know Minho is the one who made Seungmin come here, but the damage has been done, you may as well use this opportunity to talk to both of them.
"Now that you're both here, let me explain everything," you say, standing right in front of them.
"I don't need your explanation," Seungmin says without looking at you.
"Seungmin, please!" You beg again.
"The door is right there!" Minho casually says to him.
You know Minho is going to be the problem so you glare at him, "Minho, please?" You say in a rather threatening tone instead of pleading.
"I'm not going to stop you from leaving but please hear me first," you try again while clasping your hands together in front of you.
Seungmin refuses to look at you but he stays in his seat and that's enough, he only needs to hear your part of the story anyway.
"Yes, I'm dating the two of you at the same time," you admit right away and that seems to intrigue Seungmin that he glances your way.
"But I wouldn't call it cheating," you continue and Seungmin looks away again, "Even if that's the case, it only means that I'm cheating on Minho with you."
"What do you mean by that? You're dating him behind my back," Seungmin says with a lot of resentment in his voice.
"Minho knows everything," you reveal, "We've been dating for three years way before I met you."
"Yes, and she told me everything," Minho adds with a wicked smile on his face.
It feels as if the two of you are playing him and he feels stupid for being the joke in this narrative. Seungmin looks at you and then at Minho with a revolted look on his face, "What is this sick game are you playing here?"
You take a step closer to him and slightly bend down to make him look at you, "Seungmin, I swear this is not a game. Our relationship is real and so is my relationship with Minho, we're—"
This is where Seungmin loses it. He's not familiar with this equation. You're dating him but also dating Minho. How can one person date two people at once? And is that even possible? Since when 1+1+1 is two? His brain just can't comprehend it.
"You cheated on me," he says and that's the only statement he firmly stands on, he doesn't care who dates who first and how many relationships you have other than with him.
You take a moment to inhale air and try again, "Seungmin, trust me when I say I never lied to you. I love you and you know that's true," you calmly tell him.
"But you did lie to me about your relationship with him," Seungmin
"Because I don't want to lose you," you hastily respond with the harsh truth.
A moment passes in silence as Seungmin processes your words and you're right, he would have left you a long time ago and the relationship wouldn't last this long.
"I know this is hard to understand but I love you, Seungmin, and I love him too," you say as you point at Minho.
You rake your hair to the back and come up to them, kneeling in front of them as you grab their hands in each of your hands.
"And I know how selfish and greedy I sound but I want you both in my life," you finish with a sad smile.
Minho brings your hand close to his mouth and kisses it, "You know you'll always have me," he says.
You softly smile at him, "Thank you, Minho."
The ball is in Seungmin's court now and you look at him with hopeful eyes, even though the chance that he'll agree to this is slim, close to zero percent.
"Seungmin..." your voice lowers as a second passes without an answer from him.
All of a sudden, he takes his hand away from your hold and in that moment, you tell yourself that, at least, you've tried your best to make him stay and if he still chooses to go, then you have to let him go.
Seungmin's hand cups your cheek and he tilts your head, forcing you to look at him. To your surprise, he smiles and then slowly presses a kiss on your lips.
"You know that I love you too."
-
Since they're all and they both agreed on being in this relationship, you figure this is the chance to put it to a test and see if they can learn how to share.
Minho places a kiss on your shoulder as his hands busy unclasping your bra, he places another kiss on your neck and turns your head to the side so he can kiss your lips.
"It's off," he mutters as the bra is completely off your arms.
You peck his lips and smile, "Thank you, baby."
Minho has no problem adjusting himself to this but Seungmin looks a little lost that you have to keep him close and at times, you have to actively tell him what to do.
As you sit on the edge of the bed, you take his hands and pull him close. Giving him a long peck on the lips before asking him, "Are you nervous?"
"I'm not nervous," Seungmin puts his hands on each side of your waist and places a peck on your lips, "I just wish he's not here."
You chuckle at that and put your hands on his square shoulders, "at first, I thought Minho would be the one having problems sharing," you poke fun at him.
"I can share," he hastily responds, he quietly clocking Minho who's getting undressed in one corner of the bedroom, "Just not with him."
"Can you please try? For me?" You sweetly plead, along with multiple kisses planted on his lips, "Mmh?"
Seungmin knows that he has no other option but to share you, he accepts it with a sigh, "Okay."
"Thank you, baby," you softly mutter, bringing his head close so you can kiss him hard and deep.
The kiss lasts for a few minutes and you eventually break the kiss, gasping for air the second your lips detached. You get on all fours on the bed and take his cock in your hand, slowly stroking it before taking it into your mouth.
You maintain eye contact with Seungmin as your mouth is full of him, alternating between sucking and licking, combining it with your hand pumping the base of his cock.
Seungmin gathers all of your hair to the back and forms a makeshift ponytail with his hand to keep all of your hair away so he can see his cock slipping in and out of you.
Behind you, you feel Minho's hand on the arch of your back and it's gliding down to the curve of your rear, he doesn't hesitate to knead the flesh until it molds into his hand.
Next, he replaces his hand with his mouth, sucking on the ample flesh of your ass cheek hard enough that you believe it would leave a mark.
Your focus starts to shatter as Minho plants his mouth on your heating core, he keeps your ass cheeks parted open so he can plant his mouth deeper in your wetness.
His slick tongue teases your entrance and at the same time, his hand snakes its way to the front to play with your clit, pinching for added stimulations.
You're moaning with Seungmin's cock in your mouth and somehow, the vibration adds pleasure to him as he hand tugs harder at your hair.
It goes on for long until you deem it's enough or else you'll get too overwhelmed to continue. You slowly pull Seungmin's cock out of your mouth, ignoring how your saliva coated his length and dribbling down your mouth. Minho catches you from the back, holding you as you sit on the bed and spread your legs open for Seungmin.
"Go ahead. You can have the first turn," Minho says to Seungmin, always in a tone that borderline mocking him.
You land a hard slap on Minho's arm, "Be good!" You warn him.
"Sorry, honey," Minho apologizes to you along with a kiss instead at him.
However, Seungmin does a good job of pretending like Minho wasn't there, he crawls over to you to place a kiss on your lips before settling himself between your legs. He rubs his fingers between your folds, softly as if he's touching flowers.
He's going to keep pretending like Minho wasn't there and fully enjoying this moment. It's not hard when your body always entices him, endlessly arousing him and inviting him to touch.
With another kiss on your lips, Seungmin slowly pushes inside. He pulls out only to push deeper into you and do it a few times more until he's fully sheathed in your tight walls.
"Mmh, yeah..." you moan with eyes closed, "So good inside me."
He lets himself explore your body with his hands then with his lips next, marking your skin with searing kisses to finally start thrusting into you.
Minho slowly lays you down but keeps his eyes and hands on you, touching you and cupping your breasts as they're jiggling along to Seungmin's slow yet steady thrusts.
He stands on the side of the bed facing you, pumping his cock as he's watching you being fucked by Seungmin, and eventually, brings his eyes back to you.
Using the tip of his cock, he rubs your erect nipples, wetting them with his precum and making you squeeze his cock between your breasts.
"Oh..." you loudly moan, taking every stimulation on every inch of your body from the two men.
The wild glints in his eyes scare you and excite you at once. You're tilting your head his way with your mouth wide open.
"You want it in your mouth?" He says as he pumps his cock so close to your face.
You bite your lips, nodding.
Instead of giving you what you want, he shoves his thumb into your mouth and watches as you suck hard on it before finally putting his cock into your mouth. He grabs the hair on the back of your head, keeping your head still as he drags his cock in and out of your mouth.
"You like that, huh?" Minho says as he looks down at you.
"You like having your greedy holes filled, huh?" He pulls out of you to give you a chance to answer.
"Yeah," you breathlessly answer with your lips wet with saliva.
"You hear that? She likes her greedy holes filled!" Minho says to Seungmin with a wicked grin plastered on his face.
Seungmin is too high on pleasure to care, having sex without protection is still new to him and he still needs a few practices to finally have some self-control doing it.
With your mouth full of Minho, your noises can no longer be his guide on pleasing you but he can tell from the way you're tightening around him. He needs a release as much as you do but he holds it in until he knows for sure you have climaxed.
Minho probably senses that you're so close, that he pulls out of you and offers his hands for you to hold on to. Your chest is heaving and moans are spilling out of your mouth.
"Seungmin, oh, please!"
There you go with your begging and pleading, and it's amazing that it still works on him, hearing you calling his name in such neediness gets him off.
When you finally reach your high, you pull your knees up as high as you can which provides him more depth and tightness that gets him closer to his release.
A few more thrusts are all it takes for Seungmin to reach his high. He keeps his cock deep inside you as he releases all of his seed. His hands are pressing on the back of your thighs with nails dug into the flesh.
Still gathering his senses, Seungmin searches for your lips and when they finally meet yours, he kisses you so hard that he runs out of the air in his lungs.
"So good, baby, that was so good," you mutter to him with half-shut eyes.
Seungmin climbs onto the bed, his back resting against the headboard while you're lying on your stomach in between his legs. You're both riding down your highs with some kisses and cuddles until Minho seeks your attention.
He pulls you by the waist, taking you away as you're about to lean in to kiss Seungmin. You laugh at his childish behavior and look over your shoulder at him.
"I'm not going anywhere," you jokingly mutter at him.
Minho holds you close and lets Seungmin watch as he runs his hands all over you as if he is trying to show him how to properly touch you.
He makes a trail of kisses from your neck and then down your spine, forcing you to bend down on the bed on all fours for him.
"Ouw!" You yelp as he lands a slap on your ass cheek.
Seungmin reflexively holds you by the shoulders, thinking it is something that he's doing that hurts you.
Minho lands another slap on the other cheek harder than the sound echoing in the room and sends you launching to the front.
"Fuck, your other boyfriend cum a lot," Minho complains with his fingers lightly circling your clit.
You shake your head at Seungmin, gesturing him not to take his bait, and bring your mouth to his ear to whisper, "I like it when you cum a lot inside me."
Seungmin holds the side of your head and kisses you, but Minho slaps your asscheek again to get your attention back to him.
"Let's hope he left some room for me to fill," Minho says, putting two digits into your gushing hole to prepare you for his cock.
"Don't be so dramatic, Minho," you poke fun at him.
He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you hard until your back hits his chest. He buries his head in your neck, placing ticklish kisses down the column on your neck while his hands are fondling your breasts.
"It's your turn to not be dramatic," he mutters into your ear as he aligns his cock to your entrance.
"How can I not be?" You say to him.
Without warning, he enters you, pushing his swollen member in little by little. His hands gripping your hips to keep you still as he keeps pushing in until he's fully buried inside you.
"Honey, oh..." you moan as you grope for his head, turning it to the side so you can kiss him.
"I know," he seductively murmurs into your ear, "You feel so good around me too."
As Minho starts thrusting into you, you get back on your fours again and share some of your attention with Seungmin. You crash your lips against him and take his hand, making him cupping your breast.
He affectionately brushes your hair to the side and holds it there before leaning in for a kiss again, kissing your parted mouth as you moan from Minho's thrusts.
"I'm cumming, oh, I'm cumming," you whine as your fingers claw at Seungmin's chest.
Minho keeps chasing his high and riding past your orgasm, sending you into overdrive. Your eyes are fluttering shut from the immense pleasure but Seungmin holds you steady and tirelessly placing kisses on the skin he can land his lips on.
"Just a little bit more," Minho says through his gritted teeth while keeping the motion of his hips going.
You're fisting the sheet underneath you and eventually collapse onto Seungmin's chest and letting him hold you as Minho finishes inside of you.
Minho lowers his body on you, planting kisses on your back and your neck, he then buries his head in your neck as the three of you snuggle on the bed, exhausted yet content with pleasure.
With your eyes barely open, you reach for Seungmin's jaw and kiss him, then turn your head to the side to capture Minho's lips in a kiss afterward.
And you think, it wasn't bad at all for a first practice.
-
The bed shifts as Minho props his elbow against the mattress, you're holding his arm close to your chest so he plants a long kiss on your shoulder before slowly, taking his hand away from around you.
He checks his phone for the time and he kind of already guessed that he should get ready for the day, he has a plane to catch.
He quietly makes his way to the bathroom to wash up and quietly gets dressed in the dark of the room, not wanting to wake the others sleeping in the room.
He helps himself for a quick breakfast in your kitchen, opening the fridge to get a carton of milk and it almost startles him to see Seungmin standing by the doorway of your room with his hair sticking up and his glasses perching slightly askew on his nose.
"Man, you look really good in the morning," he sarcastically says as he takes a box of cereal from the top cabinet.
Seungmin brushes his hair to the back and fixes his glasses, traipsing his way to one of the stools pushed against the kitchen island.
"I believe we have to talk," he says to him in his morning, deep voice.
Minho gathers a bowl and a spoon on the kitchen island. He repeatedly nods as he pours cereal into the bowl first and then pours the milk after.
"That's actually great because you haven't heard my part of the story yet," Minho finally responds to Seungmin.
He takes a spoonful of cereal and shoves it into his mouth, making Seungmin wait as he chews and swallows his food to speak again.
"I'm away a lot for work. I hate to see her feeling lonely and sad. I don't want to break up with her and so is she. I was the one who came up with the idea," he explains, taking another spoonful of cereal and making Seungmin wait again, "I told her to find another boyfriend."
Minho then rests his hands on the counter and leans forward, taking a moment to gather his thoughts in the silence that hangs in the room.
"When she told me about you, I was scared because I kind of set her up for heartbreak by coming up with that idea but she stopped feeling lonely and sad. I can also see that she's... happier," he shares, digging his spoon into the bowl, and with a sad chuckle he continues talking, "I even started to think that maybe she doesn't love me anymore."
It only occurs to Seungmin now that Minho did all that not for himself, he wouldn't bother texting him and sending him all those videos if his intention was only to provoke him. He did all that to force him to come and meet you, he did all that for you which makes Seungmin the bigger asshole in this.
Minho drinks the milk straight out of the bowl and then roughly wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, "What I'm saying is... I just want her to be happy. That's all," he finishes.
This concept of relationship is so new and foreign to Seungmin that at first, he finds it hard to make it make sense but after hearing both sides of the story, it isn't as complicated as he initially thought. After all, a relationship is a state of being connected whether it's people or objects or even concepts.
But it's nice to hear that despite his snarky remarks and flippant attitude, Minho is not afraid to be transparent about his feelings and thoughts, and Seungmin respects him for that.
On the other hand, it convinces Seungmin that this relationship would work because the three individuals are mature and have no intention of hiding things from each other anymore.
"I just want her to be happy too even if it means I have to endure your... attitude," Seungmin enunciates the last word with a sneer.
Minho scoffs and chuckles at that, finishing the bowl of cereal by draining the milk to its last drop.
"So how are we going to do this?" Seungmin asks in genuine curiosity.
"Well... we'll arrange something," Minho vaguely says, putting the dirty dishes down in the sink.
Minho returns to the bedroom to retrieve his jacket, he's sitting on the edge of the bed and places his hand on your shoulder, trying to wake you up with a gentle kiss on your lips and continues placing kisses all over your face until you steer in your sleep.
"Hey, I have to go," He softly mutters with a tender caress on your cheek.
You rub your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose, "Already?" You ask with a sleepy tone.
"My flight is in three hours," he informs while putting away the hairs from covering your face.
You pout and hum in complaint, stretching your arms out before putting them around his shoulders, pulling him close until he collapses on top of you.
"When will you come back?"
"Next Friday," he answers.
"Mmh, okay," you mumble, holding his face inches away from yours and giving him a long peck on the lips.
To give him a proper goodbye, you get up and put on any piece of clothing lying next to you. You walk Minho to the door for another hug and kiss while Seungmin sits in the kitchen, giving this moment just for the two of you.
"Stay safe. Take care," you tell him as you cling to his body.
Minho places ticklish kisses on your neck, sending you giggling as he holds you tightly. He eventually stops to press a long, lingering kiss on your lips.
"I'm going, okay?"
You nod and fondly gaze at him, "I love you."
He smiles at that and plants another lingering kiss on you, "I love you."
It's not the first time that he's leaving you to go away for work, but somehow, this time feels different, he feels a little relieved that he has someone he can trust to keep you safe.
"I'll be back soon," Minho mutters with a chaste kiss on your forehead.
You're lingering by the doorway, watching him leave until he goes inside the elevator and then go back inside. You're aware that Seungmin is there and you've been neglecting him the whole time you're saying goodbye to Minho.
You smile as you walk into the kitchen and see him still sitting there against the kitchen island, "I'll make us coffee," you announce.
"Okay," Seungmin shortly says with a soft smile.
You start by filling the pot with water and putting it on the stove, and as you wait for it to boil, you scoop some coffee beans to grind.
All of a sudden, you feel a pair of arms wrapped around you and you don't have to look to know it's Seungmin.
"Does it make you happy?" He asks out of the blue.
"What? Making coffee for you?" You jokingly ask even though you know the context of that question.
You put down whatever you're holding and turn around on your feet to face him, resting your hands on his chest as you look up at him and say, "I'm happy."
"Then I'm happy," he says with a smile, leaning in to softly kiss your lips.
The kiss brings back so many things, both the good and bad things you've shared, but ultimately him. The break-up was the worst part of it but now that he's back with you, you feel happier than ever.
"I love you, Seungmin," you tell him, sliding your hand up to his neck and holding him there, "I'll never let you break up with me again."
He puts his arms around and draws you closer, "I won't."
"Good, 'cause I don't know what a menacing man like Minho would do to you if that happened," you jokingly say.
In the end, Seungmin doesn't need numbers or data or statistics, he only needs to learn from his mistakes and as much as he hates his guts, he also needs to learn a few things from Minho and one of them is being a good boyfriend to you.
The white curls of steam escape the cup of coffee as you serve it on the table in front of him, the strong smell of it awakens all of his senses.
"Thank you," he mutters his gratitude with a smile that makes his eyes smaller and offers warmth.
You watch as he takes a careful sip at it with a hand propped under your chin, "How is it?"
He puts down his cup of coffee and smiles at you, "It's perfect."
As of this moment, Seungmin will only look at you as someone he loves and wishes to always be happy, and he'll think of himself not merely as a part of the equation but as what completes the equation.
-
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dunebrat · 8 months ago
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THE PEOPLES PRINCESS
Reader x feyd rautha smut
Summary: you get married off by your father to secure alliances. Despite you knowing your new husbands reputation, you finds yourself drawn to him.
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As you stepped onto the arid planet of Arrakis, the sun beat down relentlessly, casting harsh shadows across the shifting dunes. You, a princess, were escorted by your father, the ruler of your home planet, to marry the infamous Feyd Rautha. Your first encounter with Feyd was chilling. He stood tall and imposing, his eyes cold as they met yours. You couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine at the intensity of his gaze.
Throughout the preparations for the wedding, Feyd remained distant, barely acknowledging your presence. Amidst the bustling preparations, your father sought you out, his regal bearing softened by a look of paternal concern. He approached you with a tenderness that belied his stoic exterior, his eyes filled with a mixture of pride and sadness.
"My dear," he began, his voice gentle yet tinged with gravity, "today, you embark on a new journey, one that will shape the course of your destiny."
You met his gaze, a swirl of emotions churning within you. "Father," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, "I know not what the future holds, but I will face it with courage and grace."
A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he reached out to grasp your hand. "You are a beacon of strength and resilience, my child," he said, his voice filled with pride. "No matter what lies ahead, remember that you are never alone."
Tears welled in your eyes as you embraced him.
Your wedding gown, made from the finest silks and embellished with gorgeous lace and brilliant gems, was a vision of grandeur and elegance. Its flowing procession, glistening in the intense desert sun, followed you like a moonlit river. As you stood in the grand hall, waiting for the wedding ceremony to begin you couldn't shake the feeling of dread that gnawed at the edges of your consciousness, knowing that once the ceremony commenced, there would be no turning back.
But amidst the fear, there was a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, against all odds, this union with Feyd would bring you the happiness and fulfillment you had always longed for. But you know the man that will soon be your husband is no kind man. But as you stood before him at the altar, his eyes locked onto yours with a fierce determination. When he leaned in to kiss you, you felt a rush of lust.
On your wedding night, as the grandeur of the ceremony faded into the intimacy of the chambers, you found yourself alone with Feyd. The flickering candlelight casting shadows across the room, adding to your senses heightened.
Feyd, with his usual air of confidence, approached you. His eyes, sharp and penetrating, seemed to pierce through the facade you tried so desperately to maintain. He noticed the tremble in your hands, the uneasiness that lingered in your of your gaze.
"You're scared," he observed, his voice a low, rumbling growl that sent a shiver down your spine.
You nodded, unable to deny the truth of his words. "I am," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Feyd closed the distance between you, his presence startling in its intensity, his lips twisted into a knowing smile. He said, "Fear can be a powerful motivator," with an a hint of humor in his voice. "But it can also be mastered."
With a swift yet gentle motion, he reached out to cup your face, his touch surprisingly tender against your skin. His eyes bore into yours with an unwavering gaze, as if daring you to challenge him, to defy the inevitable.
Feyd's eyes raked over your body, his gaze lingering on the curve of your hips and the swell of your breasts.
His voice was low and husky, his words a command.
"Strip." The word hung in the air like an order, leaving no room for negotiation or hesitation. You hesitated briefly before complying with Feyd's demand. You unbuttoned your dress, letting it fall to the floor in a pool of fabric. Underneath you wore nothing but lace underwear and stockings that accentuated every curve on your body.
Feyd's eyes roamed over your body, his gaze intense and unwavering. "I want you to know that I am not a man who will be gentle with you," he said in an even tone as if it were simply stating the obvious.
"I will take what I want, and you are to do as I say." The words hung in the air like a threat.
His gaze was intense, his voice commanding. You couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at the way he spoke to you. The words were harsh and demanding, leaving no room for negotiation or compromise.
You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to process what he had just said. The weight of his words hung heavy on the air between us and for a moment | felt trapped by them.
"I understand," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
"I will do as you say." The words were barely out of your mouth before Feyd's hand was on the back of your neck, his grip firm and unyielding.
He pulled you closer to him, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both demanding and possessive. His tongue invaded your mouth with an almost brutal forcefulness as he claimed it for himself.
His other hand found its way to your breast, his fingers pinching and twisting the nipple until you gasped in pain.
The pain was sharp and intense, but it also sent a strange rush of pleasure through you. You found yourself responding to his touch in ways that surprised even you.
His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve and crevice as if he were mapping out a territory. He pulled you closer to him until his hardness was pressed against the soft folds of your sex.
You could feel the heat radiating from him, his desire for you palpable. His hands moved down to your hips and he lifted you up so that only the tip of his cock was inside you.
He held you there, teasingly close to the edge of pleasure. "Do you want this?" he asked in a low voice that sent shivers down your spine.
"Do you want me to take what I need from you?" The words were a command, not a question. The words were barely out of your mouth before Feyd's grip on you tightened and he thrust into you with a force that left you gasping for air. He fucks you hard and fast, his hips slamming into you with a force that left your body trembling. The pain was intense but it only seemed to fuel the fire of desire burning within him as he continued to fuck you relentlessly.
You could feel the wetness between your legs, a testament to how turned on you were by his rough treatment.
His hands roamed over your body, leaving bruises and marks that would be a reminder of this night for days to come.
Days passed after the wedding night, and you found yourself adjusting to life as the wife of Feyd Rautha. One evening, as you sat alone in the grand hall of the palace, Feyd approached you with a quietly. His usual stoic demeanor softened slightly as he took a seat beside you, his presence commanding yet strangely comforting.
“May I join you?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly, betraying a hint of vulnerability beneath the surface.
You nodded, surprised by his sudden display of openness. "Of course," you replied, unable to hide the shyness in your voice.
For a moment, silence hung heavy between you, the only sound the soft rustle of fabric and the distant hum of activity within the palace walls. And then, with a hesitant sigh, Feyd spoke, his words measured yet tinged with emotion. "I know I am not what you expected," he began, his gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the horizon. "I am not known for my warmth or compassion, but know that I will do everything in my power to protect you, to keep you safe from harm."
"I believe you husband," you replied softly, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his arm.
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alexsoenomel · 28 days ago
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Through The Amplifier
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Summary: Seeing Metallica with Dean for his birthday 🎶
Based on: THIS
Pairing:  Dean Winchester x Reader
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI , implied smut, actual smut (but cute fluffy smut), mentions of death, Dean and Reader being nerds
Word count: 8k (I like writing backstories sue me)
Song mentioned (The actual setlist btw): Ride the Lightning,  For Whom The Bell Tolls, Lux Æterna, Until It Sleeps, Whiplash, Too Far Gone? Welcome Home (Sanitarium), No Leaf Clover, The Call of Ktulu, Moth into Flame,  Wherever I May Roam, Inamorata, Blackened, One and Enter Sandman ( Also Wrong Side of Heaven and Jekyll and Hyde by Five Finger Death Punch)
Note: This year I saw one of my favorite bands and finally fulfilled my lifelong dream. I went by myself and had an absolute blast so this idea just came to me.
Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)
“Are you sure you don't want to come with us, Sam?�� I said as I pressed the buy tickets button. The website loaded for a couple of seconds before my phone went off. 
“Yeah, I'm sure. I don't listen to Metallica,” Sam told me as I checked my email to see two tickets for Metallica in Inglewood, California in six months.
“How can you NOT listen to Metallica?”
“Not my cup of tea, I guess.” 
“You, Charlie?”
“I don’t like old men in leather,” she simply said, making me chuckle.
To say that I was excited would be an understatement. I was overjoyed, ecstatic, and adrenaline-filled, already mentally preparing for the concert. It was indeed destiny. Metallica was performing two days after Dean's birthday in Inglewood, and since we both shared one dream: seeing them live, I saw it as a sign. Videos from their M72 world tour have bombarded my social media ever since it started, and I decided it was now or never. 
“How much are the tickets?” Sam asked.
I bit my lip and mumbled: “14k.”
“For two tickets?!” Charlie’s eyes widened in disbelief. 
“Each,” I simply said. 
" (Y/N)?! " Sam's gaze was on me, and I could feel it burning. I looked at him and smiled awkwardly, and he gave me a silent look of judgment. 
“I can explain!” 
“I'm listening!” He said, voice as sharp as a knife. 
“You know that rich vampire guy I was sleeping with before we met?” 
“The son of the rich vampire?” 
“Yeah, that one. After we killed them I found his laptop where he kept all of his secrets plus his bank account and asked Charlie to transfer everything to me.” 
“How much?”
“Everything,” Charle said proudly. 
“Untraceable and undetectable thanks to her, so technically it’s not our money,” I added.  
“But wasn't that two years ago?” 
“Yeah, he had a lot of money,” Charlie told Sam as he stared at me connecting the dots.
“That explains why the fridge is always full now.” 
“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Charlie said.
I chuckled. 
Sleeping with a vampire was probably the stupidest thing I have ever done. I didn’t know he was a vampire until I woke up one morning in his bed drowsy with two small holes on my neck. By then, I had been a hunter for ten years and The Winchesters were not in the picture yet. I’ve only heard stories about them; some hunters told me that they were monsters in human form, savage, causing chaos wherever they went; and others had kinder words in mind, like heroes, good, impossible to not like. After I realized what he was I was shocked, but not surprised. I had been collecting red flags like baseball cards all of my life, but I’ve never slept with an actual monster. I’ve been with narcissists, egomaniacs, momma’s boys, but never with a vampire. That day I made a mental note: “Never trust guys on dating apps. Sleazy pubs are better for finding sex.”
The day I planned to kill him and his old man was the day that I met the brothers and Charlie. I caught them trying to sneak into the property from the back, since the cameras there weren’t working. I saw them because I was trying to do the same so the servants wouldn’t see me. I could smell hunter’s blood from a mile away and they could too. Sam told me bodies were piling up in LA and I had no idea because they would cover their tracks well and I was too busy having sex with one of the perpetrators. Dean on the other hand was rolling his eyes because he couldn’t believe how reckless and stupid I was. We didn’t start on a good foot whatsoever. He thought I was annoying and I thought he was an obnoxious jerk. That was before we killed the vampire family. 
After we finished the job with minor injuries we went to celebrate –drink. It was Charlie’s idea and I still thank her for that. A few beers later I realized the reason why Dean and I didn’t see eye to eye. It was because we were two sides of the same coin. He was a stubborn nerd with alcoholic tendencies and daddy issues and so was I. And the best part was we both liked the same type of music. Sam and Charlie saw right through us and left after two hours and we stayed and talked for hours. A few more beers and a whole lot of bickering and flirting later, we were fucking in his car like it was our last day on this Earth. I collected one more red flag that night and had too many orgasms. Drunk on sex we both went to his motel room where we had even more sex and barely got any sleep. 
The next morning Sam and Charlie were grinning at us while we were trying to wake ourselves up with caffeine. 
“I see you guys had a lot of fun,” Sam said, noticing our dark cycles. Charlie giggled. 
“Yeah, too much fun,” Dean said, trying to keep his eyes open. 
When it was time to say goodbye and exchange numbers, Charlie had yet another brilliant idea. 
“You should come with us,” she said, leaving the brothers speechless, Dean especially. 
“A hunter alone in a world is a terrible thing,” she told them. 
“Did you just quote Maester Aemon?” I asked her. It was nice meeting a fellow Game of Thrones fan.
“You just became even more awesome!” She said and high-fived me. “She is coming with us, guys!” 
I was indeed alone. I started hunting when my parents got killed by a werewolf when I was 19. I had no extended family just one friend and she had no idea what I was doing in my free time.  
Sam and Dean just stared at each other but naturally agreed since Charlie was running the house and therefore I was moving to Lebanon, Kansas. 
For the first time, I had my room and a place I could call home. The bunker was gray and dark and grew on me rather quickly, but things between Dean and I were strange at first. We both thought we were going to fuck each other’s brains out and never see each other again, but the universe (in this case Charlie) had other plans. He was actively avoiding me until I told him to suck it up and talk to me. We didn’t speak, instead, we were memorizing each other’s scars and moles in different positions…over and over again. We even woke up Sam a couple of times while Charlie was clueless since she slept with headphones.
Slowly, we were falling for each other and each kiss became more fatal than the last and since we now lived together, we were spending every waking moment in each other's presence. It wasn’t until one evening we were drinking and a young handsome guy decided to shoot his shot with me and Dean in a drunken jealous rage told him to piss off when he saw his hand on my hip. When the guy refused to leave me alone Dean punched him in the face and we got kicked out of the bar. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you?! I was about to tell him to fuck off!” I screamed at him and he just stared at me in complete silence. 
“DEAN?”
He came closer and cupped my cheeks with his hands kissing me gently. This time the kiss was different; it wasn’t filled with lust; it was more gentle and vulnerable. His lips were as soft as ever and for the first time I was so painfully aware of them, I wanted him to devour me whole. 
“Why are you such a dick sometimes?” I asked, his face inches away from mine.
“I don’t like when people touch what’s mine,” he said, putting a strand of hair behind my ear. I suddenly became aware of my heartbeat. 
“Since when do I belong to you?” I asked him, trying to keep a cool head even though my body was on fire. We never made it official, but we both knew it was inevitable. 
“Since I belong to you, dickhead,” he said, and from that day on I was his and he was mine. 
***
 I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t in love with Dean. We never said the words, maybe because we were too afraid to verbalize our feelings like grownups, but I knew he loved me just as much as I loved him. His eyes would always sparkle whenever we shared eye contact – even when we fought. He fought a lot, but mostly on hunts, because I would never listen to him and he knew better. In the end, we would get the job done and have angry sex to blow some steam. I’d never thought I’d end up dating a male equivalent of me. I could finally say I was happy with my life, even though objectively speaking it was awful 99% of the time. I was thankful for my chosen family and the fact that I got to experience love for the first time. 
***
I had a hard time keeping the secret, but six months later it was time to celebrate his day. Sam, Charlie, and I decided to make everything Metallica-themed. His cake was a classic chocolate cake but the candles were two small guitars one white and one black (one had the number 3 on it and the other one had 6), The frosting was black and had a picture of the band from the 80s when Cliff was still alive. Dean loved Cliff’s bass, so we knew he was going to love the cake. 
“Happy birthday, Dean!” We all said in unison as I was putting the cake on the table in front of him. Dean’s eyes widened, sparkling with delight, as he stared at the cake. His mouth dropped open in a gasp, revealing a grin that spread from ear to ear. His cheeks flushed with a rosy shade, and he could hardly contain the bubbling excitement as his eyebrows lifted in disbelief. It was a moment of pure wonder etched across his face. He blew his candles after we sang Happy Birthday to him and now it was time to open the presents. 
“This is from me,” Sam said and gave him a bag. 
 Dean pulled a black shirt from it. 
It was a beautiful Metallica shirt, a brand new one from their 72 Seasons merch collection with their yellow album cover and Metallica written on the top. 
“Holy crap a Metallica shirt!” Dean said looking at the beautiful design. Sam smiled at him. 
“Thank you, Sam! It’s perfect!” He then added. 
“You’re welcome, Dean,” Sam said and hugged his brother.
“Now it’s my turn!” Charlie exclaimed and gave him her present. 
Dean pulled out a CD and a cassette tape from a small box– their 72 Seasons CD and a limited cassette tape of the same album. 
“Oh my God! Charlie!” Dean was bursting with excitement and my heart was melting. I don’t think I remember the last time I saw him this happy. His inner child was healing mine – he deserved the world.
“One is for your car and the other is for your laptop!” 
Dean immediately jumped from the chair and hugged Charlie as tight as possible. 
“Thank you,” he whispered. 
“You’re welcome, birthday boy.”
Now it was my turn. While he was licking the frosting with his fingers I sent him his ticket. 
Dean was staring at me as I was smiling back at him. 
“Check your phone, handsome,” I told him, trying to contain my excitement. 
Dean's brow furrowed just a touch, creating a faint line across his forehead as he checked his phone to see that he got an email from me. 
“What is this?” He mumbled under his breath and opened it. 
Dean’s face lit up with pure joy as realization washed over him. His eyes widened. His mouth dropped open in a wide grin, showcasing his astonishment, while a breathless laugh escaped him. He looked at me for a second before staring back at his phone.
“ARE YOU FREAKIN’ SERIOUS?” He then asked in disbelief. 
“Yeah, and guess what? We will be right in front of the stage,” I said and showed him my ticket on my phone. 
His cheeks flushed with color, and his eyebrows shot up, giving him a look of sheer exhilaration. He could hardly contain himself, there was an almost childlike glee as he wrapped his hands around my waist and lifted me, completely swept away by the moment. I squealed as he spinned me around like I was a ballerina. It was a mix of shock and joy, a perfect reflection of his excitement to see his favorite band live. When he kissed me my feet hit the ground. 
I knew he would remember his 36th birthday for the rest of his life.
***
We packed our bags the next day and went to the airport. Our flight was at 6 pm, so we arrived around 3 pm after lunch. Sam and Charlie came with us because Dean didn’t want to leave Baby at the airport parking lot. We said our goodbyes and went to check in. 
“Don’t let him do anything stupid,” Sam told me. 
“Don’t worry I won’t! We will be stupid together,” I grinned and Sam looked concerned. 
*** 
The flight was quick and smooth; we didn't even feel it. Since it wasn't my money (well not really) I decided to splurge and booked us two nights in the four-star hotel next to the YouTube Theater where the concert was scheduled. They had a pool, spa, and breakfast buffet, so naturally, I figured Dean was going to appreciate it. 
“I don't have swim trunks, (Y/N),” Dean told me as we were entering our room. 
“Yeah I know, that's why I bought you a pair a couple of weeks ago,” I said.
The room was an epitome of elegance, bathed in warm light from sheer curtains. A plush king-sized bed, adorned with crisp white linens and a couple of soft pillows was calling our names. A sleek nightstand held a vintage lamp in the corner, while a polished desk offered a coffee maker and a big flat-screen TV handing across the bed was screaming Dean’s name. The en-suite bathroom was heaven, featuring a spacious glass shower, complete with fragrant candles and premium toiletries.
Every detail was screaming luxury and I knew I made the right choice.
We put our bags on the floor and I turned to Dean to see him staring back at me. 
“Happy birthday, handsome!” I said and kissed him gently. He immediately pulled me closer to him, closing the gap between us, deepening the kiss, and making me moan a little. I could feel his stubble on my face, his hands on my hips, slowing moving downwards to cup my ass. 
“Shower?” He asked before moving his lips to my neck. 
“Please,” I managed to say. 
After having a quick shower we went to bed and he made love to me until we eventually fell asleep only knowing the sound of each other's names. I loved that man with all my heart and soul. 
***
The next morning we woke up at around 8 am, which was our usual time, and went to have breakfast. 
The breakfast buffet was a sight to see. There were freshly baked pastries like croissants, danishes, and muffins, all warm and inviting. A big bowl of colorful fruits sat nearby, with strawberries, melons, and pineapple ready to be picked.
In another section, you could find hot dishes: scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and plump sausages. There was also a selection of artisanal breads, with butter and a variety of jams to choose from. The drink station had fresh coffee and juices. Dean and I were salivating. 
“Oh, this bacon looks crisp!” Dean said joyfully as he put a handful of bacon on his plate. 
“If monsters don't kill us, high cholesterol sure will,” I chuckled and put a couple of pieces next to my eggs. 
Breakfast of champions: bacon, eggs, fluffy croissants, coffee and for dessert fluffy American pancakes with maple syrup. No matter where we went we would always eat the same thing for breakfast.
“The pancakes are so good, my God!” I said as I stuffed my face.
“I need more bacon!” Dean said and went to get more. 
After breakfast, we ended up taking an hour-long post-breakfast nap.
***
The concert was at 9 pm. After we woke up Dean wanted to go swimming before lunch so I gave him his new and only pair of swim trunks: blue shorts with yellow ducks all over. 
“Seriously?” Dean said, looking at himself in the mirror next to our bed.
“I look ridiculous.”
I tried so hard not to laugh.
“It was either ducks or small purple dildos.” 
Dean's face went blank as he looked at himself once more.
“Ducks are good.” 
I, on the other hand, bought a black bikini that was perfect for my body. The sleek design highlighted my figure, and the black color added a touch of elegance. I was oozing confidence and sexiness and Dean couldn't get enough of it. His gaze never left my body and it was filled with admiration and affection. His expression was a mix of pride and appreciation. He was on another planet.
“Dean?” 
“Um?” He asked, his eyes still fixed on my figure, his mouth partially opened. 
“Your gun is showing.” 
He looked down and saw what I meant. 
“Crap!”  
“Let me take care of that before we go!” I chuckled and pointed to the bed. 
***
The pool was nice and big. After an hour of fucking like rabbits we went for a swim only to realize we were too exhausted to do anything with our bodies, so we went to the sauna. 
In the sauna, my skin felt like it was being enveloped in a warm embrace. The heat made me aware of every pore, and I could feel the sweat starting to bead up and trickle down. It was both soothing and invigorating; my skin felt alive, flushed with warmth. 
“I can't believe you planned all of this,” Dean said and closed his eyes, enjoying the sweat dripping from his skin.
I wanted to say it. I wanted to say those goddamn words, but I bit my tongue once more. 
“I know, I'm the best,” I said proudly, while in the back of my mind the sentence "Love makes you do crazy things" echoed over and over again. 
***
Lunch time, another post food nap and it was time to get ready. Dean wore his usual: jeans, a new Metallica shirt he got from Sam, a leather jacket, and combat boots. I decided it was time to turn myself into a rock’n’roll bombshell. I was going to wear leather black pants, Dean's old Ride the Lightning shirt I “borrowed” and never gave it back, and my staple: black Dr. Martens. I did my hair all nice and curly, and my makeup was a bit over the top and not something I usually do.
I was standing in front of the mirror as I started with a flawless matte base, then created a smokey eye with deep blacks and a dramatic wing. Thick eyeliner and voluminous false lashes (that I bought just for this occasion) made my eyes pop. I swiped on dark, matte plum lipstick and defined my brows to frame my face.
A touch of contour enhanced my cheekbones, and I added a hint of shimmer to my inner corners. Feeling powerful and sexy I was ready to heal my inner child with the love of my life. 
“How do I look?” I asked Dean as I put on my leather jacket. 
He bit his lower lip and scanned every inch of me in a second.
“Freakin’ gorgeous,” he exclaimed, making me blush. 
He was never shy to give me compliments and show me how attracted he was to me. Even in pajamas, dying from period cramps, and crying because my favorite ice cream was sold out, he would still tell me how amazing and pretty I was. Like I said, I loved that man with all my heart and soul, it was pathetic and beautiful.
I kissed him and we were on our way. 
We came four hours earlier at around 5 pm, a few minutes before they opened the gates and let us in. In an hour Ice Nine Kills was going to perform and after them Five Fingers Death Punch. When we came in, the pit was already filled with people, but it wasn't full yet. We found a spot just a few inches from the stage. My heart was pounding, I couldn't believe I was there, while Dean was squeezing my hand tightly not wanting to let go. 
“Do you want a beer?” Dean asked me. 
“I don't think that's a good idea. If we drink we will have to go and if we have to go we will abandon this perfect spot. A lot of people are already coming in.” 
Dean nodded.
“Water?”
“That will do,” I agreed, considering we would be standing probably until midnight, staying hydrated was important.
He left to buy us two cups and came back after five minutes. The space was already getting crowded and I was growing impatient. 
“I still can't believe we are here,” he told me. He was buzzing with excitement, eyes shining and bouncing on his heels. 
“Do you think they will play Enter Sandman?” I asked him. 
“I hope so. Pops used to play that song all the time in the car when I was a kid. Sam hated it.” 
“My dad used to sing me that song whenever I couldn't fall asleep. I was a lousy sleeper but for some reason, that song would always put me into a coma.”
I told Dean as I remembered how much I missed my old man.
“You're still a lousy sleeper,” he said, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. 
“Yeah, because now I cannot sleep without you,” I said and kissed his cheek. I always had trouble sleeping, going to bed after 3 am, waking up at 3 pm, tossing and turning, nightmares, and so on… until I started sleeping next to him. I was never a big cuddler, especially since I would always feel uncomfortable whenever someone would try to hold me while I slept, but with him it was different. I would sleep like a baby next to him, he was home to me. His heartbeat was my white noise and his warmth was my safe space. 
He smiled back at me and at that moment the show began. 
Ice Nine Kills was…something else. Dean and I were trying to decide if we liked the music or not, but one thing we agreed on was: that we LOVED the performance. Gore, blood, and chainsaws were all far too familiar, but we especially loved horror references. The music was not bad, but considering we were both classic rock fanatics it wasn't something we would actively listen to. 
“I love the Nightmare on Elm Street reference,” I commented after they finished the first song. 
“Not bad,” Dean agreed as he wrapped his arms around my waist from behind and pulled me closer. 
We were jamming to songs we'd never heard before. People around us were either utterly confused or dancing and head-banging like it was their last day on Earth. 
“Oh! That's the Texas Chainsaw Massacre!” Dean said in my ear. 
“I know,” I laughed, but I don't think he heard me considering the music was pounding in my ears. 
After a good hour, they were done. The crowd was growing impatient again and so were we. 
“Five Finger Death Punch is next!” I said and took a sip of my almost empty cup of water. 
“I'm kinda excited about that.”
And to be honest I was too. We heard a couple of their songs like Wrong Side of Heaven and Jekyll and Hyde and instantly fell in love with the singer's voice. Dean even said the vocalist sounded a lot like David Draiman of Disturbed and I definitely could hear that. 
We were waiting for what felt like hours and my legs started to hurt. I forgot what it felt like standing for so long; the last time I went to a concert I was 16 and my family was still alive. Dad took me to see Deep Purple, it was an unforgettable day. 
Five Finger Death Punch came at exactly 8 pm. The band made everyone jump and scream. Their energy was unmatched and the vocalist was giving his all. His voice was strong. The guitarist even threw a couple of picks and Dean almost caught one.
“Damn it!” He shouted. 
“Don't worry, maybe you will catch one from Kirk later.” 
We all completely lost it when they closed the show with the iconic song Dean and I both loved: Jekyll and Hyde. I was singing my heart out with my man and the rest of the crowd while the singer was jumping around the stage. This whole band had such a strong presence, and I decided to check their other stuff after the show. 
"Thank you all for being an incredible audience! Your energy means the world to us. I hope you enjoyed the show as much as we loved performing for you. It was an honor to open for one of the greatest bands to ever exist! Enjoy the rest of the show and be safe!” The singer said and the whole stadium screamed and clapped. 
“DAMN RIGHT!” Dean yelled and I smiled. 
Seeing Dean so at peace with life and enjoying the present moment made my heart flutter. That man deserved the world and even though I couldn't give him one where he was truly happy (mainly because that would require him to leave hunting behind and he would never do that) I could still make his world a little bit brighter. 
I turned around and kissed him, leaving a smudge of lipstick on his perfectly full lips. 
“Are you ready?” I asked him whipping the stain from his lips with my thumb. 
Dean grinned widely, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Abso-freakin’-lutely!” 
People around us were shouting, screaming, and clapping from excitement, and some people went to get more beer, and pee before the show– it was a beautiful chaos around us. 
“My legs are killing me already,” Dean complained, trying to stretch as much as he could in the sea of people. 
“Yeah, mine turned to stone,” I said and checked my phone only to see they were 20 minutes late. Being late was my biggest pet peeve; even the legendary band that was Metallica didn’t have an excuse. I groaned silently and looked at the empty stage again. I was impatient and filled with adrenaline; ready to sing my heart out, but at the same time I was missing the hotel bed. 
Ten minutes later, our favorite chaotic drummer appeared, sending the whole stadium into a state of pure excitement and borderline madness. He waved and then Robert and Kirk appeared with their guitars and big smiles on their faces. The crowd was cheering even louder. 
“Kirk’s hair is fabulous!” I told Dean, while we were clapping. 
“Yeah, Sam should take some notes!”
And finally, there he was, in the flesh, our favorite voice and my favorite silver fox: James. I've had a crush on James ever since I was a little girl and seeing him right in front of me in his black leather pants, black boots, black shirt, and his beautiful gray beard and hair made my heart beat faster. The man had the presence of a God and I was his loyal worshiper. 
“Oh my God! IT'S HAPPENING!” Dean yelled and hugged me from behind. 
As the lights dimmed and the crowd erupted, Dean and I felt a surge of adrenaline once again. The opening chords of Ride the Lightning sliced through the air, and we couldn’t contain ourselves. With a wild grin, Dean threw his fists in the air, the pulse of the music igniting a fire within him. I was too starstruck to sing, my voice too shy to come out as I was standing there with my phone in the air trying to record a video with my shaky hands. It was my dad's favorite song and I wanted to immortalize this very moment.
Meanwhile, Dean was transported into another dimension. He swayed to the heavy riffs, shouting the lyrics as they echoed around him. Each note was a release, a reminder of the thrill of being alive. At that moment, we were just fans—no monsters, no worries—lost in the pure magic of live music.
“GOOD EVENING INGLEWOOD! ARE YOU READY TO HAVE SOME FUN?” James' voice was powerful with a gravelly timbre that conveyed excitement. We all screamed and with that, they started playing the second song. 
“HOLY SHIT!” I yelled when I realized it was indeed For Whom The Bell Tolls.
As the iconic opening riff surged through the venue, Dean’s heart raced. He felt the familiar rush of nostalgia wash over him, memories of late nights with Sam on the road in the Impala echoing in his mind. The deep, heavy chords resonated in his chest, and he instinctively raised his fists, the crowd's energy fueling his excitement. 
With each thundering beat, he found himself singing along. His grin widened, and he couldn’t help but sway with the music, lost in the moment. For Dean, it wasn’t just a song; it was a reminder of everything he fought for—the bond with his brother, the battles they faced, and the moments of joy amidst the chaos. This was rock and roll at its finest, and he was right where he belonged.
 I, on the other hand, was trying so hard not to cry. The haunting melody of For Whom the Bell Tolls wrapped around me, pulling at my heartstrings. I felt a mix of exhilaration and nostalgia, the weight of the moment overwhelming as memories flooded back—times spent with my family, laughter shared, my mom telling my dad to turn the volume down. Oh, how I missed my parents at that very moment! The intensity of the crowd, the energy of the band, and the raw emotion in the music made it hard to hold back tears. It was a cathartic release. Dean was standing behind me pulling me closer with one hand as I was holding onto his index finger. I wiped my tears and sang my heart out for my mom and dad and after they finished the song I was left with a slight pain in my right ear. I might have forgotten to bring earplugs, but the truth was I didn't want to nor cared about protecting my ears from potential damage. To quote Dean: “Metallica is too good for earplugs.” 
After bringing back so many good memories it was time to mix it up and play something from their newest album.
The melody of Lux Æterna hit me like a bolt of electricity. It opened with a powerful, aggressive guitar riff that instantly raised the tension in the air. As the verses rolled in, the haunting yet energetic melody intertwined with a sense of urgency. When the chorus exploded, the vocals soared, filling me with a mix of exhilaration and defiance. I was completely engulfed in the sound, feeling every note resonate deep within me, embodying everything I loved about Metallica as Dean pulled me closer to him while we were jumping in sync. 
“Lux Æternaaaaaaaaa!” We would sing completely out of tune with James. 
As Lux Æterna blared through the speakers, the crowd became a living entity, energy surging with every note. Fans pumped their fists and sang along, their voices rising in a powerful roar. Some swayed with eyes closed, while others jumped, danced, and headbanged, united in exhilaration. 
“You guys are amazing!” James said. He was covered in sweat and I was salivating. The man was a definition of aging like fine wine and my daddy issues were showing. 
I turned to Dean who was hypnotized, his eyes never leaving the stage. 
"Would you give me a hall pass if I cheated on you with James?"
Dean arched an eyebrow, a playful smirk crossing his face. “James, huh?”
Amusement in his eyes, he added. “If you think I’m letting you run off with a rock star, you’ve got another thing coming.”
“Really?” I smirked.
“You’re mine—rock star or not.” 
I couldn’t help but laugh at Dean’s reaction. “You think I’d leave you for James Hetfield? Really?” I teased, arching an eyebrow. His playful jealousy was endearing, and it warmed my heart.
Dean smirked, leaning in with that familiar teasing glint in his eyes. “Just making sure you know where my head’s at,” he said, his tone light but with an edge of seriousness.
“Rock star or not, I’m the one who gets to take you home.” He chuckled, and I could see the warmth in his gaze. “It’s you and me against the world, always.” At that moment, I felt a rush of affection, knowing our bond was stronger than any fleeting fantasy.
As the opening notes of Until It Sleeps fill the venue, the crowd erupts into a frenzy, a sea of raised fists. The energy was electric, and I felt the pulse of the music vibrating through me as everyone swayed together, singing along with wild abandon.
Beside me, Dean’s face lit up with pure joy, his excitement infectious. I glanced at him, my heart swelling with happiness, knowing this moment was deepening our connection. Surrounded by the thrumming bass and the roar of the crowd, I realized this night will be one we’ll always treasure. The crowd swayed around us, but at this moment, it was just us. He sang every word with fervor, and I couldn't help but join in.
The set list was out of this world: Whiplash, Too Far Gone? Welcome Home (Sanitarium), No Leaf Clover, The Call of Ktulu, and Moth into Flame are just a few they chose. 
During Wherever I May Roam Dean and I were screaming every word so hard that I knew our vocal cords would hate us later. We would usually listen to that song after every successful hunt. It became a staple, a reminder of why we do what we do, and a beacon of hope. 
“HOLY SHIT!” I shouted at him with a huge grin on my face.
“HOLY SHIT!” Dean shouted back and kissed me.
The band was looking so good.
I loved seeing Robert jamming with the fans with his signature long and beautiful braids while absolutely nailing every note on his base and Kirk just being Kirk and owning the stage in his green leather jacket. Lars was an absolute beast even at 60 years old. 
When they started playing Inamorata, James took his time to walk around the stage while playing his guitar and smiled at us all. I could see his face as clear as day: his blue eyes had that sparkle of happiness; he had been doing this for decades and you could still see how much it made him overjoyed to see people enjoying his band's music, his smile was infectious and captivating and I couldn't believe he was standing right in front of me. 
I turned to see Dean – he was completely mesmerized, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, staring at James as if he were witnessing a miracle. I chuckled softly, knowing he was the happiest man alive. It was beautiful to see this vulnerable side of him, and I couldn’t help but lean closer, sharing in his joy as the music enveloped us.
The next two songs were Blackened and One. To be completely honest I forgot about Blackened. I was so high on adrenaline, oxytocin, and serotonin that I couldn't remember the song and I was too embarrassed to ask Dean about it. I knew it was an old song, a classic, and I knew Dean would give me a death stare so I kept my mouth shut and listened to him sing (yell). 
After the forgotten song James and his bandmates decided to rip our hearts out.
The ominous sounds of distant gunfire and explosions played through the speakers and the crowd fell into a hushed reverence. The chilling audio of war set an intense backdrop for the song that used to make me cry. The moment I recognized the opening notes of  One, a thrill shot through me, and I felt my pulse quicken in anticipation. It was as if the world around me faded away, leaving only the haunting melody that resonated with the depths of my soul. I never thought I would hear this song live. My dad showed me the music video when I was eleven (my mother was furious, and thought it was inappropriate) and I cried my eyes out, but loved the song. I rarely listen to that song though, it was too raw and reflected sorrow and despair in a way I knew far too well. 
Dean took my hand and placed a soft kiss as James started to sing. I pulled him by his shirt and kissed him, wanting this moment to last forever. He cupped my face pulling me closer, ignoring the sound of people around us screaming the lyrics. It was just me and him, always. 
When I broke the kiss I was inches away from his face. 
As the crowd roared and the lights pulsed, I turned to Dean, adrenaline still rushing through me. With One echoing around us, I blurted out, “I love you.”
Time froze as surprise washed over his face, vulnerability breaking through his bravado. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the music. At that moment, amidst the chaos, I saw that beneath his tough exterior, he was just as scared of love as he was of losing it.
His eyes locked onto mine, and a slow smile spread across his face. “You mean that?” he asked, his voice softening amidst the music.
Before I could respond, he pulled me close, his arm wrapping around my waist. “I love you too,” he whispered in my ear.
At that moment, surrounded by the concert’s chaos, everything felt right. 
Throughout the concert, I took a couple of videos and even got a picture of James shredding his guitar for my new phone wallpaper, but nothing could prepare me for the next song.
“ARE YOU STILL ALIVE?” James said as the opening riff of Enter Sandman sliced through the air, the arena exploded into a frenzy of energy. Lights flashed in sync with the relentless beat, illuminating faces filled with exhilaration. The heavy guitar reverberated through my body, a primal force that united the crowd in a shared heartbeat.
“DEAN!” I shouted, jumping up and down in excitement. 
“I CAN DIE HAPPY NOW!” He screamed. 
Everyone was singing, fists pumping, the raw intensity of Metallica's sound creating a charged atmosphere that felt almost electric. It was a moment of pure chaos and exhilaration, where the music enveloped us, and nothing else mattered.
Suddenly giant yellow and black balls began to fall from above, bouncing energetically into the crowd. They bounced and rolled, creating an atmosphere of pure chaos and fun. Fans reached up, trying to catch them, laughter and cheers erupting as the balls added an unexpected burst of excitement to the already electrifying performance. The sight of those bright, playful orbs amidst the intensity of the music created a surreal, unforgettable experience. One fell on us too as we jumped with other people making it fly to our left. I was trying to take a video but my hand was shaking while I couldn't stop jumping next to Dean screaming and feeling my throat slowly tighten. 
Kirk nailed his solo, while his hair stayed fabulous and James was getting himself ready for the big finale. 
“Hush, baby, don't say a word,”
“And never mind that noise you heard,”
“It's just the beasts under your bed,”
“In your closet, in your head!” 
Dean and I were screaming at each other's faces, filled with nothing but love for one another. 
“Exit light!”
“Enter night!”
“Grain of sand!”
“Exit light!”
“Enter night!”
“Take my hand!”
“We're off to never-never land, yeah”
James voice was so raw, so strong, I was still trying to figure out how he was 61 years old. 
“Boo!”
“Yeah-yeah!”
“Yo, whoa!” 
The song ended. I was already getting sad because I knew it was the end. I checked my phone and it was almost midnight. 
The song finished and we all cheered and clapped wanting more.
I heard people yell encore, but after 15 songs they were done. Lars threw his drumsticks at us and someone behind us caught it. He said thank you but the crowd was so loud I couldn't hear him. Until he got in front of the microphone and said: “You were amazing tonight! Thank you for coming!” 
We all screamed even louder. Robert came and tossed a couple of picks and people in front of us were fighting to catch it. He threw five picks in total, covering every part of the pit.
“Come on! I want one!” Dean yelled. We were all still clapping. 
“Wait for Kirk! We are close!” I told him. 
He indeed came next and blessed fans with a couple of picks, but Dean was now too close to catch one and it flew right above his head…
“DAMN IT!” 
James, covered in sweat and looking like a God came right in front of us. I was standing there, completely ignoring Dean and trying to remember every corner of that man's face. While I was in Neverland and watching James throw his picks I didn't even register Dean screaming my name. 
“(Y/N)!” 
“Huh?” I snapped back finally and saw him holding a small white pick that had White Fang written on it.
“OH MY GOD!” I yelled. 
“I DID IT!” He yelled back. 
I loved seeing my man truly happy. I loved that band and I loved everything about that day. 
***
Getting out of the venue was a nightmare. The crowd surged around us, bodies jostling and voices blending into a chaotic mix of excitement and exhaustion. I clung to Dean’s arm, grateful for his steady presence as we stepped into the cool night air.
“That was insane,” I said, smiling up at him. He grinned back, eyes still shining with adrenaline. As we navigated through the sea of fans, I felt a rush of happiness, knowing we had shared something truly unforgettable.
“That was incredible!” Dean exclaimed, his voice full of energy. “ Best night ever! Best birthday ever!” His smile widened as he looked at me, clearly still buzzing from the concert. 
My legs were in pain, I was thirsty and sleepy but it was all worth it. 
We were back in our hotel room 10 minutes later, both covered in sweat ready to sleep. 
I took off my clothes right away, feeling like my legs were on fire. 
“I'm in so much pain!” I complained. 
“I cannot feel my legs!” Dean said. 
“I'm gonna shower. Wanna join?” I was in my underwear standing next to him waiting for him to stop staring at my boobs.
“Coming!” He simply said and started taking off his pants while his eyes never left my boobs. I loved the fact he loved my body. I, like any woman in this cruel “man's world” sometimes would look at myself in the mirror and just hate what was staring back at me. His little stares were a strong reassurance that I was bullshitting.
Usually, showers meant fooling around (shower sex was complicated), but we were too tired for anything but kisses. We lazily washed ourselves in silence, kissing each other here and there. 
“So you love me, huh?” He smirked between kisses. I just smiled at him as the warm water was pouring down my back. 
“Yeah, imagine that! You're loveable,” I said as I was shampooing his hair. His eyes were closed but his mouth formed a small o. 
“Well…” 
“Shut up!” I told him. 
After we were all nice and clean it was time to finally get some sleep. I put on a clean pair of underwear and Dean's old Led Zeppelin shirt I also “borrowed” and he put on a clean pair of black boxers. 
We snuggled underneath the blanket, my head resting on his chest, feeling my body slowly relaxing and falling asleep. 
“You really think I'm loveable?” Dean asked, suddenly. I was half asleep, but this question tore my heart a little and now I was wide awake. I knew he thought he was unworthy of love, unlovable, unclean and it made me incredibly sad, especially because he was the definition of a hero with a heart of gold. 
“It’s hard to not fall in love with you, Dean. If you could only see yourself through my eyes, you would understand,” I told him and lifted my head and kissed him, but this time deepening the kiss. I was tired, and my body was in pain, but the urge to be close to him, to love him, was consuming me. He moaned into the kiss and immediately got on top of me. My hands went in his damp hair. 
We kissed for a while, our souls intertwined, our bodies keeping each other warm before his hand went into my now wet panties, his finger entered me making me arch my back, moaning even louder into the kiss. I was still in pain, but Dean's touch was slowly healing me until all I could feel was pleasure and love. His finger suddenly left my panties and I was left needy and desperate, but he wasted no time and took off his boxers, his dick fully hard. “Lift your hips, sweetheart!” He demanded and I did, letting him take off my underwear. 
He kissed me again before he positioned himself between my legs and entered me. I was so wet and desperate that I took him all instantly. 
“You feel so good!” He whispered, his voice deep and raspy, sending shivers down my whole body. I dug my nails into his back as he started to move, light moans escaping my lips.
We were one. One soul, two bodies, always. 
“Dean!” I moaned pathetically over and over again as his pace became more erratic. I was so close, so so close.
“God, I love when you say my name!” He managed to say as his face was buried in my neck. “Say it again!” He said and slammed into me. 
“FUCK, DEAN!” I screamed, digging my nails into his back, even harder. I could feel the orgasm coming like a tidal wave. 
“Oh God!” He moaned into my ear and slammed into me over and over again. 
My toes curled, my whole body stiff as my skin was covered in goosebumps. An intense wave of electricity rushed through me as I came so hard I could see stars. Dean didn't stop until he came into me, filling me up completely. I'll have to worry about potential pregnancy tomorrow since we completely forgot the concept of condoms. 
We were both breathless, covered in sweat, and panting in each other's faces. 
“Best birthday ever?” I asked him.
“Best birthday ever,” he smiled. 
I was not ready to check out tomorrow. I was not ready to board that plane and say goodbye to this hotel room. I was not ready for this to end. 
As I was laying on his chest, slowly drifting away with my thoughts and as my body relaxed and felt heavier with each passing minute, Dean was playing with my hair and before I started dreaming I heard him whisper:
“I love you so much, sweetheart.” 
232 notes · View notes
hisunshiine · 16 days ago
Text
—eternal reign | knj |
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🥀 pairing: vampire king!namjoon x concubine!namedreader 🥀 au/genre: arranged marriage au, joseon era au, s2l, fluff, smut, angst 🥀 rating: M 🥀 wc: 7,748 🥀 warnings: some Joseon Dynasty research, reader starts as a concubine, mentions of murders, minor character deaths (off screen, minimal detail), patriarchal society, this is a vampire story, so some things come with the territory, like: mentions of blood, dubious consent, blood drinking, bleeding, scars, predator/prey feelings, explicit smut: unprotected vaginal sex, blood play, marking, eating out, nipple play   🥀 an: I used some of the historical figures of the Joseon Dynasty, and while I researched a lot for accuracy of this time period to respect the culture to the best of my knowledge, some historical information has been shifted and molded as this is a fiction story. For more information on Korean Coronation Events. Dual POV of 3rd and 2nd person, but the reader is named.
special thanks to the beta readers: @moonleeai, @colormepurplex2, @downbad4yoongi, @heathfritillary-blog, and @pars-ley
🥀 summary: In the shadowed courts of the Joseon Dynasty, a new King rules—one who holds a centuries-old secret that could unravel the kingdom. Namjoon, cloaked in mystery, is forced into a political marriage with the cunning yet unknowing Taelani, who soon discovers that her husband is no mere mortal. Drawn into his dark legacy and a web of alliances that could seal their fate, Taelani faces a choice: fulfill her family’s long-hidden destiny or defy it in pursuit of a forbidden love. As whispers of blood and betrayal rise, the throne itself may be the ultimate sacrifice.
🥀 an#2:🎃This wicked treat was written for Theresa - @mrsparkjimin18 as part of the “Sweet Tricks & Wicked Treats” BWHQ Fic Gifting Event 🎃and was also written for the @bangtanwritershq’s 4th Quarter Writing Event: Monster Mash
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masterlist ❁ ao3
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Joseon Dynasty year 1483
🥀🥀🥀Namjoon🥀🥀🥀
Namjoon never expected to sit upon the sacred altar in Changdeokgung Palace, as the recipient of the Three Cheers from the crowd, where the people hurrahed for his longevity and for the dynasty. 
“We are meant to rule from the shadows,” the memory of his grandfather’s voice flits through his head as if he’s standing beside him. “An absolute and eternal reign relies on the eternal flame which burns with our dedication and loyalty, and which must remain out of sight from those who wish to douse our light.” 
And yet, mere hours ago, under the beating heat of the Korean sun, he participated in the Transfer of the State Seal with Queen Sindeok, listened to the Three Solemn Calls, watched as the Three Kowtows were performed, and returned it with the Four Ceremonious Bows.   
The room around him is loud, and Namjoon struggles to focus for a moment as he gazes across the crowded space. The gilded walls encapsulate the refreshments and revelry as the noble families celebrate his ascension to ruler of the country. He looks around, eyes finally landing on his family members split between being wall flowers blending in and meteor showers glittering as they shine across the night sky. 
He takes an unneeded deep breath, sighing in his discomfort. He knows it was his idea; something had to be done to maintain the balance in the realm, but he’s not used to being a figurehead for something so much larger than himself—for the very thing he sacrificed everything for to protect. 
“Ah, Yi Bang— I mean, King Namjoon, my apologies,” the greasy-haired Chief State Councillor Jeong Dojeon bows lowly in apology at using the given name of the prince and not his newly appointed royal title now that the transition to king has been completed. 
That is one upside to this position, Namjoon thinks as he stares at the man. Even if I must hide my identity, at least I am able to keep my true name. 
“I wanted to present to you my family’s gift for your coronation.” His eyes, small and squirrely, gleam with a dark intent that Namjoon has always detested. As one of the government officials appointed by the previous Queen’s father, Dojeon craves ultimate power, pushing for the Councillors to make decisions for the King, instead of enacting and enforcing the King’s decisions. “This is Jeong Taelani, my eldest daughter. She is now yours, Pyeha.” 
The honorific term is not lost on Namjoon. The Chief State Councillor’s schmoozing actions are as oily as his hair, but Namjoon’s not a squeaking door, and his disdain only grows as he tracks the sweep of Dojeon’s hand towards the girl next to him, as if he needs a concubine to loosen him up. 
But Namjoon has to work hard to school his features back to stoic boredom when his eyes fall onto the—unable to believe he called her a girl—beautiful woman standing a pace behind her father. 
Red hanbok lace and silks flow over her curves. Gold threading is woven intricately at the hem, along the cuffs engulfing her delicate hands, and at the lapels that tie above the swell of her breasts, glimmering, resplendent swirls that captivate him. He doesn’t show it, though. Despite his next words, his tone is full of boredom and his eyes barely linger on her. 
“Thank you, Dojeon, she is a true beauty.”
The older man smirks, rubbing his bearded face thoughtfully. “She has been trained for, ahem, her position—assisting your every need—in the palace her whole life, and vetted through the steps to be placed here just last week. I am sure that you will find her to be up to your standards.” He bows once more, this time much lower, before backing away from the elevated seating area and disappearing back into the party. 
“Emperor,” Taelani bows deeply, her knees gracefully meeting the floor as she pays him the respect of a ruling monarch. Her voice is a deeper honey sound, more seduction than the tittering pitch of the female nobles Namjoon is used to. 
“Jeong Taelani,” Namjoon tests her name in his mouth, her jasmine fragrance invading his senses as she resumes her previous standing position. Her large eyes look away from his gaze quickly, but that’s all he needs to feel the heat of the lightning they struck him with. He can feel his pants tightening—thankfully, his gujangbok covers his crotch from the view of both Taelani and his attendees. 
He stiffens, feeling something else begin to lengthen in need, and he turns his eyes swiftly away from Taelani, looking at the palace guards nearest him. 
“Please escort Taelani to her chambers, and send for the Huwon guards. I will meet them shortly.”
🥀
Sharpened ivory glistens under the moonlight before piercing the unblemished bronze skin of the woman’s throat, his venom silencing the beginnings of a guttural shriek before it can really begin. He settles in the gazebo with a jimil nain, or lady-in-waiting, straddled across his lap. Her throaty sounds transition instead to a pleasurable moan as she attempts to grip the lapels of his ceremonial robes. 
He grasps her hands, pulling them away from him and moving them behind her back, clutching both wrists in one hand so his free hand can resume controlling her head for his monthly feeding. One that he should not have needed just yet, thanks to the retaliatory massacre last week, but he ignores that fact for now. 
The blood fills his mouth, sharp pulls draining the essence from the woman as her movements against his body slow. He’s thankful—her body is not the one he craves to be writhing above him in pleasure, despite her lovely sounds and curves. 
He has to play this role smartly. His family’s legacy is on the line. He withdraws his fangs, feeling the dull ache of thirst dissipate fully as his blood lust retreats. The woman is nearly unconscious, and the two guards who brought her approach her limp form silently.
“Thank you,” he says to his younger brothers, both adorned in the traditional wear of the Naegeumwi Royal Guards. They take the woman from him as he stands before the youngest of the two, Jungkook, takes her fully and holds her almost in a lover’s embrace. Namjoon looks at them as he steps several paces away and Taehyung, his other sibling, approaches him and straightens his robes to help him look presentable again.
“NaBi was the only one we could get on such short notice,” he explains quietly as the sounds of Jungkook feeding crescendos and subsequently drops as he heals the bites on the now sleeping woman’s neck. “She was already in Kook’s room waiting for him.”
Namjoon runs his fingers over his silks, tightening the belt at his waist. “Tell him I’m sorry I didn’t mean to mess up his feeding schedule. The hunger just took over and I…”
“He understands.” Taehyung places his hand on his older brother’s shoulder. “We’ve never taken on something like this, so we didn’t know what to prepare for. We’ll move more of the feeders into the palace in various positions, and Jimin can oversee them. Your plan was the best one, and we will find a way to make it work.”  
Jungkook cradles the woman’s body in his arms bridal style as he steps towards the door. He and Taehyung lead Namjoon out of the garden and back towards the main palace. Jungkook turns to the left down a hallway after they enter shelter as Taehyung and Namjoon continue toward the Emperor's chambers. 
“Have Jimin order more of the blood tea for the feeders. I’m not sure how often I’ll need to feed now that…” he trails off as they walk, thoughts conflicted with this strange turn of events. He stops once he reaches the doorway of his room. “And Taehyung? Discretion, please.”
Namjoon feels the tension leave his body once he is in his own space. He didn’t expect to feel the voracious pull to feed so soon—he drank more than his fill merely a week ago. Typically, he feeds once a month, so the blood lust he just quenched is strange. Could it be because of his new concubine? Her scent is oddly alluring to him, and his attraction to her is undeniable. He hasn’t ever experienced such a thing, but maybe one of the elders knows something more. 
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🥀🥀🥀Taelani🥀🥀🥀
Confused. That’s how you feel as you are led away from the king, his eyes regarding you cooly before you disappear into the quiet halls of the palace. Your slippers and the silks you wear are the only sounds you hear as you are shown the pathway to your quarters, and then the low hum of the maids' voices as they help you undress and prepare for bed. 
The next week continues much the same as your first night in the castle. The other court members are seemingly always busy, leaving you bored and unsure of yourself. On the one hand, you are happy that you haven’t been called upon like you were warned would happen—like you’ve been trained for. Your womanhood remains intact, something you did not expect to happen, but it allows your time of the month to come and go without any issues. 
A part of you did fear that your menstrual cycle would agitate the new king should he come upon you that first night, but instead, he had shied away, allowing you time to spend in the royal library reading and writing letters to your sisters. At the end of the first week, you squeal with happiness when a courtier brings you a sealed parchment marked with your family’s crest. 
Dearest Taelani, 
How have you been? We are so pleased that you’ve had time to write to us. Is it nice there? I so wish we could have joined you on the trip, but Father said no. Are the rumors true? Is the king as bloodthirsty as his predecessors? Is there war on the horizon? Will you be able to throw a fancy ball so we can visit? I know you’re his only concubine right now, do you think you will become his wife? Father is not telling us much, and he’s making it seem like we shall never get to travel to see you. 
Don’t forget us!
As if you could ever forget your sisters. And a ball sounds like a lovely idea…really. You wonder if the king would allow you to do such a thing and if your father would allow your sisters to come. Maybe if the king demanded their presence. Your sister made a good point that right now, there’s no one else to compete with for his affections. If you can charm him, is there a possibility..? If only he would see you or talk to you. How else could you convince him of this one favor, or even that you’re worthy of a more legitimate role? 
It couldn’t be so easy as to show up at his bedchamber tonight and try and convince him with a well-placed massage? Could it?
Deciding to reign in all of your thoughts, you hold off on writing back so as to see first if you could plan a soiree of some sort, and turn back to the book you were reading before the courtier arrived. It was not written all that long ago, but it details some of the more recent history of the country, including the king’s grandfather. 
You had always thought it to be an urban legend, the stories whispered in the dark about when his grandfather was in power, but as you read through the history of the family, you realize with each story of the king’s grandfather that he truly was blood thirsty for power—he apparently murdered all of his older siblings for the throne. 
There is a massive family plot to the south of the palace that holds his deceased siblings, and ever since, despite the number of enemies the crown has acquired over the years, his family line has been the only one to rule. Every attempt to maim and murder the royal family has been thwarted, and the groups leading the coups are never to be seen or heard from again. Bloodthirsty isn’t even half of it. 
Closing the handwritten tome, you gather your skirts about you so that you can climb off the comfortable lounging spot. You have spent all week reading through to try and understand this family that you now reside with, but all you seem to find is death and despair. Through the window you can see the sun is setting, and now that you have a plan in mind, you decide to seek out the king instead of waiting for him to come to you. With your cycle gone, you feel confident enough to seduce King Namjoon. As his first concubine, you are sure you won’t be the last, but you want to make an impression. 
As a woman in this world, your power is lacking. The power you do hold will be in the sons you can bear for the king, and in the ability to wield your feminine wiles to seduce and keep the king wrapped around your finger. Best to start now. 
🥀
The palace corridors are well-lit as you traverse the pathway towards the king’s chambers. You made a quick stop at your own rooms, shedding the hairpins that bound your hair tightly, allowing your tresses to fall in subtle waves from the earlier styling. You also shed some of the layers you typically wear, allowing you to show off more of your curves. 
There doesn’t appear to be anyone outside the door to his room, so you slip in easily, taking a look around. The room is tidy, with barely anything on display on the walls or in cabinets to show his personality. Cold, just like he was the first time you met. A few minutes pass as you observe what you can, until voices outside the door alert you to the king’s approach. You position yourself on his bed, sitting at the edge with a leg crossed over the other and your palms behind you as you lean back slightly. 
Your loose hair is over one shoulder, and you attempt to flutter your eyes demurely as King Namjoon steps into his bedchamber. 
🥀 
Ten minutes later, you stand in your own room again, confused by what had occurred. The King, a young, virile man, sent you out after you all but threw yourself at him. If anything, he seemed in a rush to get you out of his rooms, all but promising that you had nothing to worry about when you voiced not carrying out your duties. 
“I know you worry about your standing in the palace, but you have nothing to fear. I will not be taking in any other women—you are the only one for me. You will be my Queen Consort. So please, you don’t have to stoop to these levels. You are excused.”
You definitely hadn’t prepared what to do in the event that the King said you didn’t need to seduce him and that you would be his Queen Consort. All of the stories the women told you about had prepared you for losing your virginity and other sexual acts to seduce the King and win his favor. Nothing they shared with you implied you wouldn’t have to do anything sexually with the man and he would raise your status one step, though a large one in the eyes of the nation. A wedding already in the works, unbeknownst to you. How strange this new king is. 
🥀
The royal wedding that everyone has been waiting for a month to arrive is nearly here, with you in your red gowns of silks and satin, awaiting your cue for the ceremony. As much as you’ve enjoyed not having to behave wantonly, a part of you is drawn to your betrothed, and you realize: you want to. His movements as he walks through the palace, the grace with which he moves and speaks, all of these small things seem to thrum through your body, lighting all of your nerve endings on fire. 
Why he denies himself the access he has to your body, you aren’t sure, but you hope that this wedding means that will come to an end. Maybe he’s just been waiting for tonight to consummate the marriage, instead of behaving how you were warned all men with power behave. 
Everything is a blur as the hours pass, the sun crossing the sky until it descends below the horizon, allowing the moon to rise into its rightful place. With all of the revelers now sated in thirst or hunger or desire, they’re all sequestered away in the places that allow them to unwind. Most of the palace is now quiet, and you tiptoe with feather-light steps across the bedchamber towards your newly betrothed. 
The King sits at an ornamental desk, metallic paints wrapping around the curves of the furniture as he leans over and writes, the scratches of the quill on the parchment revealing the short strokes he writes in Hangul. He’s shirtless, wide shoulders unblemished and you want nothing more than to mar the skin with signs of pleasure.  
Your fingers lift to lightly trace along his right shoulder, but before you can touch him, his left hand grasps your fingers as he half turns to face you. You let out a small gasp in surprise—you didn’t think he would have heard you sneak up on him.
“Perhaps you should head to bed, Taelani, it was a long day.”
He barely looks at you as he speaks, and you feel yourself wilting. It’s fascinating, but deeply disturbing to you that it seems like he’s attracted to you but keeps turning you away. Everything you’ve been told about men is wrong. You want him to have his way with you, and he can’t be bothered to even stop drafting a letter to look at you for more than a second. 
You feel yourself pouting, and it seems to work for a moment. Namjoon’s eyes soften, and he tugs you closer when you attempt to pull your hand out of his. 
“I know this is not the most normal of situations, but I won’t stop you from seeking out your needs. You can take up with anyone as long as it is discreet, and any children you should bear will all be raised as if they are my own.” You freeze as he releases his hold on you and turns away, back to his missive.
You step away from him, trekking backward until the backs of your thighs touch the silk sheets on the bed. Embarrassment heats your neck and cheeks, because you do not understand why your husband turns away from you. It makes you feel…unwanted. Sitting down, you can only blink as you attempt to understand the man before you. But nothing thus far has made any sense.   
🥀
The movement of the bed slowly wakes you, and you stretch your limbs out as your eyes blearily try to take in the low lighting in the room. 
“...need the Huwon guards as soon as possible, I will meet them there.”
You stay still when you hear his voice, your brain instantly becoming more alert as you try to hear more of his request, but it only grows quiet again as the door shuts. You can barely hear his footfalls as he flits about the room, and you sneak a peek through cracked eyes as you keep your breathing level. He’s grabbing his upper garments and re-dressing, and in only a few more moments, he’s slipping out of the door.
You get up, immediately grabbing for your robes as you slip from the satin sheets to follow your new husband.
You stay as far back as you can, drifting between shadows as you make your way towards what you now know is the Huwon Secret Garden. While the garden grounds themselves take up a large expanse of the palace area, there is a beautiful and intimate pagoda of sorts that lies in the rear after crossing a small bridge with a tiny waterfall. You lose sight of Namjoon, but you know he must be headed there, so you continue on your way, avoiding the minimal guard presence. 
Approaching the enclosed garden pergola, a gasping moan sounds and you quicken your steps, evermore the curious. Peering through one of the open slats of the enclosure, you see your king—your husband—with his arms wrapped around another woman. His mouth is to her neck as she straddles him, and though her face is hidden between the shadows and behind his bulky build, you know you heard the pleasure she felt. When he pulls back from her, you watch, entranced, as he laves his tongue along the skin he’s just marked. A burning jealousy shoots through your veins until a cloud moves out of the moonlight and a beam shines straight through. 
Your eyes widen as they take in the elongated fangs, the blood dripping from the corners of his mouth, and the way the woman now lay limply in his arms. Spinning on your heel, you flee back to your room, praying that your pounding heart calms enough before he returns.
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🥀🥀🥀Namjoon🥀🥀🥀
It’s almost debilitating to Namjoon having his new wife around him. It’s been only a week—one mere week of his eternal life—and you have made him into a ravenous, salacious blood fiend. This lust for the iron-smelling essence that runs through mortal veins, and one in particular more so than the others, means that he hasn’t been handling all of the new changes to his life well. 
Going from the shadows and becoming the face of the nation he loves so much, that his whole family has given their lives for, is not exactly what he expected. He is much more used to using violence with his bare hands—and teeth—for their gain. Having to navigate politics with his wife’s father, Chief State Councillor Jeong Dojeon, is a whole new experience for him.
Not to mention that he’s insatiably drawn to his titillating wife, but knowing that her father is actively working against the reigning family has Namjoon’s guard up. The way she keeps trying to throw herself at him… Admittedly, he knows he’s spied on her letters and conversations, and she seems none the wiser to what her father is doing, but too much is at stake for him to risk it without knowing where she stands for sure.
Namjoon stretches his arms above his shirtless torso, then sets down the quill to mull over the letter he needs to finish and send to the front lines of their war efforts against the rival faction. They’ve quieted down some, ever since their attack on the true prince which led to an almost absolute destruction of said rival faction, but money will unite anyone against a common enemy if paid enough. 
His ears perk up as he takes in the thrumming melody of your heartbeat as you move around the adjacent bathing room to your communal bedchamber. It’s late, much later than a person would typically bathe, and without the aid of maids, but he’s in no hurry to overwhelm his senses with you. He focuses on the sounds; of the water draining from the side of the palace, of the soft garments sliding along your skin as you dress, and he tenses—readying himself for your scent to overtake him as he turns and stands to face your re-entrance into the room.
Beautiful. Your large eyes are bright, warm even, and the way your body gracefully moves in that—he forcefully exhales as you approach him in an ornately sewn, semi-transparent lace robe. The vision of your full breasts with lace flowing over the peaks stuns him momentarily, and he allows himself a moment to drink you in. He’s so focused on trailing his eyes along the cupid’s bow of your full top lip that he doesn’t realize you’ve spoken to him.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch what you said.”
“Oh,” you look down demurely, taking him by surprise. “My king, please. I would like just a moment of your time.”
“Of course,” Namjoon replies, but hesitates as he sits back down, unsure of what could have triggered such a formal conversation. Though, to be fair, he knows he hasn’t been the best conversationalist with his own wife.
He watches as you pull a small, stuffed stool closer to him and sit on it regally. The robe parts with the movement and he’s able to see that only a thin sliver of fabric covers your mound. Everything else is revealed to him. Your navel, your thighs, so much skin… 
“I know that you’ve given me permission to seek out other men, but I—I don’t want that.” 
Namjoon is still as he reigns in his impure thoughts and focuses all of his attention on you. “What is it that you want?”
“I want my husband. I–don’t you also feel—I just…” you sigh, and the weight of your next words would bring Namjoon to his knees had he not been sitting. “I know who you are. And I don’t care. I—”
Namjoon stands to his full height, eyes slightly narrowed at your small frame. 
“You know who I am?” he questions with disdain. Of course, you were too good to be true and exactly what he expected of your father. 
“Yes, you may be the king, but more than that, you’re my husband.” 
Namjoon pauses, listening on, but can see how tense you remain to continue speaking. “And what exactly don’t you care about?” He questions.
“I don’t care that you’re a—a vampire,” you rush out and continue speaking. “So please, don’t hold yourself back from me, I don’t want you to seek out your pleasure from others in the castle when I’m right here.”
His brain reels with an overwhelming amount of thoughts as you look up at him from where you sit, shoulders tight and lifted towards your ears as your chest rises and falls rapidly with each breath you take as you wait for him to speak.
You know he’s a vampire. How, he isn’t sure, because he knows that your father is not aware of that fact. No, he only assumed that your father had figured out that he was not the true prince, and instead a cousin filling in for the role, and shared this information with you. Nope, you meant you knew that he was immortal and knew of his late-night proclivities. He slowly lowers himself into the chair he vacated, wholly unprepared when you throw yourself forward onto your knees before him.
“Please, I’m right here. I only want you to touch me. No one else.”
Unable to resist, Namjoon does touch you, reaching beneath your arms to lift you to him. Even while standing, your eyes are only a few inches above him as he sits, and you step between his parted legs when he gently tugs you further into his space.
“I didn’t realize that my words made you feel unwanted.” Namjoon speaks slowly as he gathers his thoughts to organize his words. “I’m unsure how you came about this information, but I.. th-there’s some things we should clear up.”    
Your eyes appear to study him intently, brows inching closer as your face wrinkles with apprehension. The flooding of your veins as your heart rate increases leads Namjoon to pause and hold his breath before speaking.
“There is a reason that I have been so distant, and yet have only sought out to take one wife and no others. It came to my attention that your father has been one of the main financial supporters of a rival political party that supports more control from Chief Councilors and less from me. This money helped supply weapons and mercenaries, and there was an…attempt on my life recently. It was nearly successful at bringing down this clan’s reign and ending our family line.”
You gasp as he reveals this partial truth, and say, “I swear to you, my king, I knew not of such plans, I know my father has ambitions and a dislike for the lack of his power due to the crown, but not that he would steep to such levels for gain.” Namjoon can feel the way your pulse reacts as he holds your wrists in his large hands. You truly were not aware, and this knowledge helps quell any lingering doubts he has about sharing more information with you. 
“I believe that you had no knowledge of his plans or his financial support. But, because of that event, it is what led me to say yes to you as my concubine. You see, I felt that by having his daughter in the palace and by my side, that he would pull back his support of any rivals, and even decide to stop pushing for less control, especially since any heir would be his own grandchild to be on the throne.” Namjoon knows this last part is a lie, since he could not provide you with any children and the plan that is in place would not allow any child of yours to be on the throne, but he can’t tell you that. 
You nod, eyes rapt with attention as they pour over his face, gleaning any additional information you can. 
“My king, I do not support my father in his ventures. I promise you, I…he has never been much of a father to me. More like a tyrant or like…like he believes that my life does not matter more than what I am able to provide for him. You have saved me from him in so many ways, and I just want to show you my gratitude. I want you to feel my appreciation.” 
Your tone holds not an ounce of seductive undertones as you continue, “I care not that you are a vampire, I—” he allows you to pull free from his hold, turning your hands so that your palms lay on the outsides of his and you guide them carefully through the opening of your robes to your bare bosom, cupping his hands around your full chest. “I ache for you, Namjoon. I have never felt such a desire before, have never sought out the affections of a man. In truth, I’m terrified, but not because of what you are, but because I have never crossed this line before.” 
And Namjoon, still a man with carnal desires despite his blood lust, wants to be the one you cross that line with. He can feel the weight of your breasts as you move closer, stepping in such a way so that you can straddle him—which you do moments later. He feels his hands tighten around your chest without your fingers leading the motion, and the tiny, breathy moan that you release brushes against his lips from your proximity. 
He’s hardening, lengthening; his cock pressing against your clothed heat and his fangs inching from his parted lips, both aching to open you up for him. And just as the circling press of your pert nipples to the pads of his thumbs begins, you cover his mouth with yours, moaning for his ears only as you lean into his touch at all junctions where your body touches his.
It’s intoxicating; your scent wraps around him and the feel of your blood thrumming within your body as you tremble from the pure lust that seems to ooze from your pores as you, you! devour his lips with no care of his fangs. Your tongue is tentative, but curious—seeking to glide along his and taste all of him. 
When you pull back, he presumes to breathe since he need not this human action, his fang nicks your tongue on retreat. That one drop makes his muscles spasm—you pull back from him faster as his touch turns painful for a moment and then you are flying, landing on the bed in a frenzy and in a blink Namjoon is pressed to the wall farthest from you, his fists clenched tightly as he holds himself back from you. 
“There is…still much you need…to know and understand.” Namjoon strains to get the words out, actively fighting his thirst for his wife—for you—whose blood has never been tasted by another, and whose tight cunt has never been taken by another. “Please, walk slowly to the door and get the Huwon guards…”
“No, please, Namjoon, I want—”
“Now!” he roars, watching fear filter into your eyes as you spring from the bed and rush towards the door. With a speed rivaling light, he is in front of you before you can make it three steps from the bed. His predator instinct couldn’t allow you to leave the room now. Grasping you under your thighs, he lifts you effortlessly, drawing his nose along your neckline.
Instantly, your fear melts away from your body, leaving you boneless as he deposits you forcefully to the bed you just vacated.
“You will take me, and I will drink from you, and then, I will tell you everything, but I can’t…can’t let you go. I must have you.”   
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🥀🥀🥀Taelani🥀🥀🥀
The gentle husband whom you had straddled mere moments before, who had kissed you with a softness that you have never known, was no longer the man above you. Instead, a predator climbs onto the covers as you scramble backwards, but his hand grips your wrist and slides you along the silk sheets back underneath his body.
His hands box in your head, with his knees bracing either side of your hips. Your heart is pounding, and you freeze beneath him, finally understanding why he said to walk slowly. 
~~
“Grandfather, what do I do if I encounter a bear or something of the like in the forest?” Five-year-old Taelani asks as she walks along her family grounds with her maternal grandpa. 
“My dear Taelani, you must never run if you encounter a large animal. Predators are wired to chase after prey. Be steadfast, like a deer or a hare. Freeze and watch first. They may not mean you any harm, but if you should run, they cannot stop themselves.” 
~~
Going stockstill seems to work, just as you remembered learning about as a child. Namjoon mimics this, freezing his own body and his dilated eyes close as he leans closer into you and…inhales. 
“I’m sorry, but I—I need to feed.” His voice is tense, a quiet murmur that fills the silence.
“It’s okay, I’m right here,” you say, proffering your own neck. “I know you won’t hurt me.”
“This is not—I wanted this to be different, I don’t want to hurt you. You deserve—”
“—a husband who will make love to me, and feed from only me. Because I am yours, and you are mine.”
His eyes open with a blazing, hungry stare and before you can do anything else, he descends on your lips with a fierceness. His hands move from the sheets to your robe, ripping it open to expose your dusky nipples to the chilled air. He grips the hem of the clothing preventing you from full nudity and all but destroys it as he pulls it from your body in a feral show of strength.
“Mine.” His words are a low growl before his mouth is once again on yours, this time his hands now free to roam your body without clothing to hinder him. His deft hands move in symmetry to cup your breasts, giving them a supple squeeze before drifting down your hips and he moves his body lower along yours so he can hook his arms around the backs of your thighs. 
The silks beneath you allow him to easily slip between your skin and the satin, giving him the right angle to push your legs up and bare all to him. You shiver in anticipation, feeling how wet you are by the air now meeting the heat between your thighs. You want him. The throbbing of your clit makes you want to clench your thighs together for some relief, but the way he’s holding you won’t allow it. 
His kisses trail lower, mouth hovering over your nipple until his lengthened teeth graze the sensitive skin. Arching your back, he takes this as a sign to suck the peak into his mouth, tongue swirling as you moan. He switches sides, treating them equally before continuing lower, tongue dancing across your navel. The caress of the wet muscle has your body jumping with desire. 
“Oh!” You can hardly keep quiet when his tongue tastes you, laving flat across your open warmth before making short, quick passes along your clit. Your hands grip the sheets in desperation—for him to stop, for him to continue—the pleasure is overwhelming. 
“You taste…divine,” his voice rumbles, and you try to keep your eyes on him but squeeze them shut when his mouth returns to devour you. Sensual, plump lips kissing you, sucking you, tongue fucking you—you writhe beneath him. His hands press you wider, keeping you open as your muscles fight against the pleasure and threaten to close around his head.
And he doesn’t stop. Not until you're dripping, and the lower half of his face is glistening with you. You barely register his movements, can barely tell that he’s naked and climbing above you until he’s suddenly in your eyeline. Floating…that’s what this feeling is, like floating on a cloud, carefree. And when the blunted tip of his cock nudges at your still quivering heat, you widen your legs and welcome him, urging him to fill you. 
And, oh! You don’t expect the pressure to build as he thrusts within you, and you cry out in pain, in pleasure, in ecstasy at the fullness he brings as your walls quiver around him. 
Your hands tighten on his shoulders as he begins to move with more gusto, continuing to keen at the feeling—all of the feelings—and slowly the pain lessens and he glides with less stilted motion, bottoming out again and again and again.
A rhythmic chanting sounds, and it takes a few moments for you to recognize your own voice, so laced with desire and lust, pleading for him. “Please, gods, don’t stop, please!” along with a guttural reply, “I won’t,” filling the bed chamber that surely the others in the palace must be awake and able to hear. Namjoon appeases your request and his hips continue to piston fluidly, his strong thighs creating a cacophony of sounds as they meet the backs of yours. 
An inhale, sharp and stilting—a grunt, with hips stuttering—his fangs piercing the tender skin at the crook of your neck as you feel the blood weeping from your vein as he drinks deeply of you. And you shatter from the ecstasy, like a fallen vase of porcelain, pieces scattering like twinkling stars across the galaxy in a vibrant bursting of flames. 
🥀
“I am…older than I look.” You lay with your head upon Namjoon’s chest, fingers dancing along the smooth, glistening skin of his chest. His voice reverberates in your head as his low timbre continues. “And I am not truly the Queen Mother’s son, but her relative.”
You tilt your head to look up at him.
“I died a little over 50 years ago. Many of my family within these walls are like me. Forever frozen in time. When my father was just a boy in 1390, his uncles and aunts all fell ill of the fever. One by one, they passed away, and his father, fearing death, sought out the answer to life. When all was said and done, the only one to survive the fever was my grandfather’s youngest brother. In order to secure his place on the throne, stories spread that the youngest son killed all of his older siblings for power. In reality, my grandfather helped spread this and protected him all the while from assassination attempts.”
Looking with wide eyes at him, you almost can’t believe that what he says is true. Almost.
“This became our family’s mission. To protect the youngest sibling's line. For all of the children born to the older siblings who did not pass from the fever, upon approaching their 30th year and after having a family if they so wished, would endure the change and live forever. We have grown in our numbers and have always worked to protect the one line that history can know about. The Queen Mother’s great-grandfather is that youngest sibling. Merely days before I took the throne, her son, the true heir, was murdered.”
With a gasp, you sit up, clutching the satin sheets to your naked breasts.
“In order to hide that this attempt was successful, I stepped into his place and took the throne. And the Queen Mother will have another child, one who we will raise as our own and be the next successor, rightfully restoring the line to power once more.”
 “I have so many questions, I can’t even begin to list them!” you pout, stifling a yawn at the late hour. You understand that you will have to raise the Queen Mother’s son as your own child so that the correct lineage remains on the throne, but what of your own children? 
“We have plenty of time for your questions, my love. Maybe I shall answer some of them as I tell you more?”
As Namjoon continues to regale you with his tale, spelling out exactly how your lives will be, you settle back into his body and listen intently to his deep tenor rumbling against your cheek, curling your naked body around his own, until you fall asleep. 
🥀🥀🥀
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Epilogue
Eighteen years have passed since Taelani first entered the palace as Namjoon’s concubine. 
Eighteen years since you learned the truth about your husband and his family, and full of questions and curious for more information, had kept him up the following nights with all of your thoughts until he lay you down and forced you quiet with his lips on yours and his hands seeking other truths between your legs. 
Now, you are a mother to twins—at least, as far as the kingdom was concerned. Your daughter, Seojin, is truly yours and Namjoon’s, a miracle that even Namjoon’s family had not anticipated. Due to most everyone else in his family waiting until they had chosen a mate and had kids to turn, this was an unprecedented event. And Seojin’s twin brother, Jiho—though not truly siblings—but instead cousins, is the answer to keeping the family line on the throne. 
Queen Mother Sindeok had hidden away, where she bore a son and then quietly returned to the palace with you and Namjoon, cradling a secret that only your family knew. A secret that she bundled tightly for the trip back and handed into your arms a mere day before your Seojin was born.  
By royal decree, the news of the double royal birth spread across the lands, and in short, the Queen Mother’s pregnancy had never happened. Instead, Taelani, beloved Queen Consort to King Namjoon, had given birth to twins—a boy and a girl, heirs to a prosperous future. Together, the twins' birth was celebrated by the populace and secured the power that Namjoon’s grandfather had cultivated over the years, maintaining their hold of the throne their line refused to give up.
The birth of your twins also made sure that your father no longer tried to challenge the current rulers for power over the people. The Chief Councilor must have immediately withdrawn his money and support of the rival factions, as their attacks and their false propaganda dwindled to almost nonexistence. 
With the belief that his grandson would take the throne, as the twin who was born minutes before his sister, your father seemed to think better of his past alliances, and instead made to be a better grandfather to them than he was a father to you, in the hopes that his name would be next to theirs in historical records as a formative familial link to the throne. 
You still watched over his actions, even now, knowing that he may no longer hunger for the death of the emperor, but that his gusto for power and manipulation was never far from the surface. You and Namjoon had raised your children well though, teaching them to think for themselves and avoid manipulation tactics from even the most persuasive of grandparents. 
At eighteen, Seojin showed no outward signs of her father’s affliction, but for a glint in her eyes that she could do more, hear more, see more, smell more—than her human counterparts. Her brother Jiho was smart, empathetic, and set to be a great ruler, carrying on the legacy his forefathers set before him.
It may have been a little over a decade since you joined your husband in an everlasting life, but you have never regretted that decision, not even for a moment. Standing next to him as he pens his speech for Jiho’s coronation, you absentmindedly run your fingers through his hair as you stare out at the full moon, large against the backdrop of the stars and dark clouds. 
“My love, come to bed,” you suggest, wanting to lay with him, to embrace him, to love him.
“One more line and I’ll join you,” he promises with a smirk. He still looks the same, jovial eyes crescenting as his lips quirk up at you. “Strip, and I’ll make sure to keep you warm.”
His lustful gaze watches as you step backwards towards the bed, eyes staying on his face.
A few moments later, he replaces his quill and caps the ink, fingers tugging at his pants to loosen them from his waist. Your giggles carry with the evening breeze as it whistles quietly through the slats in the window, rustling the parchment Namjoon was writing on and drying the last lines he had written. 
“And for our country, with Yi Jiho as emperor, this nation will finally have all we have fought for: strength, power, and a promising future.”
And for you and Namjoon, your sacrifices eighteen years ago continue the legacy of a kingdom destined to be ruled by a lineage of
eternal reign.
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↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2024. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.
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physalian · 2 months ago
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7 Misused Tropes (And How to Improve Them)
Tropes in isolation aren’t inherently bad, but a lot of them are prone to poor execution. Each one of these probably could have a whole post by themselves. A few of these used to be good but have since fallen by the wayside as their original meaning has been lost.
7. Dramatic Miscommunication
You know the ones. I think it’s worse when the story is otherwise good, the writers just could not come up with a better way to get X alone or send Y off on the necessary side quest than the lowest of low hanging fruit.
Two essential ingredients for fixing this trope: Precedent and consequences
Precedent–have the character doing the missassuming already be prone to jumping to conclusions, already suspicious or insecure, or misled by a third party so this looks inevitable, instead of pulled out of your ass.
Consequences–usually these are big blow up fights that fizzle out without any impact on the plot once they fulfill their purpose, but if it’s a nasty enough fight, characters shouldn’t just forgive and forget. While they might not completely ruin relationships, it should have characters taking a step back and either second guessing where they stand, or using this blowup to fix an underlying issue in said relationship.
6. Love Triangles
Good Love Triangle for the first 3 seasons: Elena/Stefan/Damon (TVD).
Bad Love Triangle for the entire series: Bella/Edward/Jacob (Twilight).
The difference between them (besides time to flesh out both candidates) is that both brothers brought valid pros and cons to Elena’s life, both got the chance to be with her, and Elena’s whole arc wasn’t solely focused on the agonizing choice of which brother she should pick. Regardless of which camp you’re in, Stefan brought stability, that classic cliché high school romance, mostly all good vibes. He never challenged her or talked down to her or got aggressive with her. Damon did the opposite, for better or for worse, and we know which direction the show went.
On the other hand, Jacob never for one second stood a chance with Bella and the narrative wasn’t kidding anyone. They never so much as went on one date (unless you count the motorcycle ride) and it seemed like Bella was only letting him hang on for pity’s sake. Theoretically he brought pros to the table that Edward couldn’t (like, idk, being alive), but the narrative never explored what could be done with him. He just ended up being the Nice Guy friend who then decided it’d be hot to lust after an infant.
5. Agency-less Chosen Ones
These tend to be wish fulfillment characters that bring nothing to the story and have no discernible skills, yet are constantly in the middle of the action, have all the love interests fawning over them, and are Important and Critical to saving the world… because the narrative said so. They don’t make a single choice the entire plot except to move forward or stagnate, chosen by the gods or a prophecy or fate and destiny.
The problem: These characters walk with the crutch of “I’m the chosen one thus I don’t need a reason to exist in the story” and that’s just not a satisfying narrative shortcut. So? Give them agency. Even if they’re chosen by some ancient prophecy, you still have to convince the reader why the Universe wasn’t just talking out of its ass.
Good example: Emmet from Lego Movie literally says he’s useless and has no skills and cannot think outside the Lego box. He’s supposed to be as generic as painfully possible and when he does have creative ideas, they’re supposed to be asinine and stupid. And yet. He might be physically dragged around by the other characters, but he has plenty of choices, plenty of opposition to what’s happening, plenty to say about the state of his world, and his ideas do matter and his intimate knowledge of the instructions and playing by the rules is how they win.
4. Bad Boy Love Interests
These guys were supposed to be counter-culture icons, standing up to The Man for the little guy because he knows the system is broken and rigged. He’s an affront to the stereotypical nuclear lifestyle, he resents a robotic and soulless office job and wants to create art or music or in some way benefit his world and isn’t going to play nice just to get his way. He exists in contrast to the nuclear female protagonist: Conservative, demure, rule-following caged bird who falls in love with him because he shows her that life isn’t meant to be lived in The Man’s cage. He respects the authority that deserves respect, the teachers who actually give a shit, the janitors, the librarians, but probably not the principal or the police or the local politicians, because he knows they don’t respect him and respect is a two-way street. He’s probably a mama’s boy or at the very least loves his parents (if they’re alive) and while he might engage in a little property damage like graffiti, it’s for a good cause.
This dude is NOT SUPPOSED TO BE: Abusive, controlling, aggressive, or condescending to his love interest. He’s not supposed to be an overprotective stalker or plagued by insecure jealousy over any other man in his love interest’s life. He’s not rude to his friends or arrogant about his own smarts and doesn’t think he knows best about every little thing in the world. He’s not sexist or racist just to make himself feel better and he doesn’t pressure his love interest into sex because she owes him or whatever.
Ahem.
Please bring back classic bad boys. That is all.
3. Major Character Death (for shock value)
I remember the implosion of the Walking Dead fandom after they killed Carl, one of the very few characters who was supposed to make it to the end, for… various sketchy reasons and I could never figure out what was true. Some theorized that his actor was aging out of the ‘child actor’ payscale and they didn’t want to pay him as an adult and while I have no proof, it wouldn’t surprise me at all.
Carl died after getting bit in just one of those hectic moments where he got unlucky, while doing something noble and stupid. In isolation, it fits the nature of the “anyone can die” show but man did it just come across in poor taste.
Obviously “for shock value” shouldn’t be the reason you do anything in your story but there is still a way to pull it off without it causing a riot: Make sure they get killed in a non-contrived way. If you plan on killing off one of your heroes suddenly, either make it bitterly ironic, or make it a situation that this character would absolutely get themselves into. The more it “fits” the less likely audiences will see the hand of the author coming in just to break the character’s fictional contract.
2. The Power Inside You All Along
This trope is usually disappointing because it tends to melt a character’s whole arc down into something pointless—this whole adventure was apparently useless if they didn’t actually need to grow or change or challenge their conceptions of the world. They could have got up off the couch as joe shmoe and beat the villain day one.
While that’s probably not what their creator intends, ‘it was inside you all along *wink*’ tends to feel that way, as it discourages internal conflict. Usually, their creator is likely trying to convey the message that one need not change, that it’s what’s inside them already that makes them special.
I present to you once again Kung Fu Panda’s “there is no secret ingredient” i.e. “the power inside you”. The difference is. Po still has plenty of internal conflict: his own self-confidence. He begins the movie eager but inexperienced and a bit oblivious, fanboying it up around his heroes. He and Shifu both insult his weight and his lacking kung fu skills, and his arc is learning self-confidence, learning how to use his weight and the body he has to fight in a way that the villain isn’t prepared for, to where Po can shit-talk him to his face during the final fight.
Most failures of this trope don’t bother exercising their protagonist. They’re pissy and resistant for the entire story and only win when the narrative agrees they were right all along. Therefore, no change, no conflict, no resolution.
1. Strong Female Characters
So many of these read like "slapped boops on a male character". They don’t work for many reasons (usually being very preachy with their agendas), but they especially don’t work when by trying to be pro-feminist, they’re still reinforcing masculine standards. A lot of people, when Captain Marvel came out, said “you didn’t have any issues with Tony Stark being an asshole but now you do when he’s a woman” which. No.
Tony was an asshole, but being an asshole was the whole point of his character, and he got humbled right quick by getting blown up and held hostage. “Proof that Tony Stark Has a Heart” and all that.
Carol was an asshole with nothing to substantiate it, and never got a reality check. She had amnesia so we didn’t get insight into who she was before to understand this transition into dickishness and was so OP, she wasn’t ever physically or emotionally challenged like Tony was.
But the other thing is this: Slapping boobs on a male character with a slew of toxic masculine traits also says that to be a successful woman, you must behave like a man. It swings so far from the femme fatale sexy leg lamp that it comes around and eats its own tail. These characters are just mean and insecure and build themselves up by tearing down the men around them.
So. Calhoun from Wreck it Ralph is this exact trope done extremely well. She’s aggressive, arrogant, loud, rude, and cynical. For about 10% of her arc. The movie immediately throws her into a situation where her strengths are basically useless—she’s stuck in Candy Land and has to rely on someone who is the antithesis of her game and character to make it out. The movie also shows you why she’s cynical via her tragic backstory.
Not only that, she’s more than just a heap of toxic masculinity in a pixie cut. She laughs, she cries, she admits when she’s wrong, she has a soft side, a gentle side, a caring side, and remains a badass through and through.
Or, once again rolling out Tigress from Kung Fu Panda: Proud, aggressive, the snubbed chosen one, cynical, mean, and overconfident in her abilities. Tigress nearly gets her entire team killed in her arrogance. She’s allowed to be wrong, very wrong. She also has her soft moments and, like Calhoun, has a very valid reason for being jaded, and is still shown to be capable of softness and nurturing during the evacuation.
Third example to hammer home that I don’t hate badass women: Andromache. Jaded, overconfident, short-tempered, aggressive, and a little mean-spirited. Tragic explanatory backstory? Check. She is also caring and loyal to her team, allowed to get emotional, allowed to be wrong and fail and lose, and kind of the surrogate mom of the team, who can also laugh and joke around and have light-hearted moments.
Whether the character is a man or a woman, being an arrogant asshole who takes zero accountability and refuses to admit when they’re wrong and never loses, audiences aren’t going to like them.
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pianokantzart · 7 months ago
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Sonic wanting to help Knuckles so badly but not at all understanding why he can't just chill out and entertain himself has me going feral.
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As if I'm not insane enough about them forming a bond while being two child victims of a war that wiped out each others' families??? but I digress. The way their last interactions with their parental figures played out speaks such volumes about who they eventually became. Sonic's final instruction from Long Claw was to stay hidden and to never stop running. Eventually, Long Claw changed her tune in the message she left on the map to the master emerald, but until then she had made it abundantly clear that she wanted nothing more than for Sonic to just live his own life far from danger.
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Sonic took this to heart. He never stopped running, physically and emotionally. He's all about fun and self-distraction, and while he eventually overcame that pressure to stay hidden in order to take on a more heroic role, he does what he can to live up to Long Claw's expectations: live his own life and be himself.
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On the opposite end of things is Knuckles. He said he was "trained since birth in all forms of lethal combat." Knuckles was set up to go to war from the moment he hatched, and the last thing that his father said to him was an assurance that he would one day bring honor to their tribe.
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So that became his main goal from then on. He fought his way to the ends of the world until he was renowned as the most dangerous warrior in the galaxy. He spent every waking moment trying to track Sonic down so he could fulfill his destiny and reclaim the master emerald.
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He, like Sonic, lived a life of isolation, dedicated to honoring the memory of a dead parental figure, but while Sonic never stopped being his own person, Knuckles never quite started being his own person. He remains with the Wachowskis to honor a vow he made to Sonic and Tails. He tears the living room apart so that the household pet can face his "greatest enemy." He goes on a road trip with Wade to help him train after he gets kicked off his bowling team. How can he just step back and entertain himself when all "himself" has ever been is what he can be for his tribe? Old and new? How is he supposed to relax when he has probably, no exaggeration, never relaxed a single day of his life?
How can he take a break from being a warrior when being a warrior is all he has ever known?
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He literally didn't know the definition of the word fun until Sonic taught him how to play "base of ball." What has been Sonic's coping mechanisms his entire life are, to Knuckles, completely counterintuitive and alien.
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just-a-ghost00 · 2 months ago
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Are you on the right path?
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Group 1
Song : Meltdown - Motionless in White, Lost At Sea - B.I ft Bipolar Sunshine & Afgan Cards : Knight of wands, Emperor, queen of pentacles, Empress, knight of cups, 7 of cups
Not only are you on the right path but you're also on the verge of manifesting your divine counterpart. With a bunch of other lovely souls that will likely confuse you. Because all of them are possibly soulmates. Group 1, are you a candle? Because you shine so bright a lot of people are gathering around you and celebrating you. Some might even want to blow that candle of yours (pun intended). The future seems pretty positive for you so far. Expect several romantic offers, a lot of flirting and a lot of fun, mixed with a pinch of confusion. It feels like even though you reject some offers, these souls will stay in your lane because yall are a team. A soul fam. A pack of hungry wolves that strive for success. Look at you! All sexy and pampered, ready to secure the bag and be the next big thing. Dear Lord, you are gorgeous! The Universe is clapping for you and so is good old Wade. What more can you ask for? You'll be stepping into your power, getting them opportunities and living your best life. Yall have been doing the work and it's paying off big time. In terms of potential zodiac signs to look out for, we have Aries, Sagittarius, Taurus, Cancer and Pisces. Possibly Scorpio and Leo as well. You'll be attracting men and women identifying individuals alike, even non binary people. Every one seems to be drunk in love with you. I feel like you're the Empress in this spread. And then you have two knights, one queen and one emperor circling around you like sharks. And this isn't necessarily a bad thing. The Emperor person is your divine counterpart. Now, choosing them isn't mandatory. I feel like there is no wrong answer in this situation. Whomever you choose to be with is the one for you. Fate is in your hands.
Letters/possible significant signs : M, B, E, K, camels, horses, koi fish, stars
Group 2
Songs : Nakigahara - The GazettE, Awake and Alive - Skillet Cards : 10 of cups, the world, 5 of wands, 4 of wands, 7 of cups, black numen rx
Though you may face hardships coming from your community or the environment you're in, feel confused at the amount of fork in the roads you're presented with, you are heading in the right direction. And the outcome of your journey is a positive one. You may be travelling or relocating soon, finding a new home. This is a new begenning for you. You're getting out of a dark night of the soul. I was about to write "dark knight" instead. There could be Batman fans in this group. If we take the Batman metaphor, Bruce Wayne has been through a lot. Many times, he was faced with hardships and doubted his purpose. He doubted the good in him as he was flirting with the shadows of humanity, dealing with the worst in people. Yet, he never stopped moving forward. He kept fighting, he kept hoping for a better future for humanity. And eventually he'd find something positive to hold on to. Well, same goes for you. Because there are obstacles on your way and people that don't see eye to eye with you doesn't mean that you should stop believing in and fighting for your ideals and dreams. Which you will be doing in the future without a doubt. Expect more happiness, fulfillment in most areas of your life. Expect a healthier and more supportive community, a lot of interesting opportunities. You're taking your destiny in charge and deciding to work towards your goals no matter the opinion have of you. This time, you are choosing yourself over others. That's the spirit group 2! Hit the bull's eye! You can be proud of yourself.
Letters/possible significant signs : koi fish, dogs, roses, A, W, N
Group 3
Songs : Break me The GazettE, path of the wind aekasora, The Beginning One OK Rock
Cards : knight of swords, 10 of pentacles, king of cups, wheel of fortune, page of pentacles, hanged man
You may have had a rough time lately group 3 and were in a phase where your reality didn’t match your expectations and hopes nor did it align with the amount of effort you put into manifesting your desired reality. You may have felt desperate, depressed, frustrated. But let me be the bringer of good news : that vicious cycle is ending. A new wind is blowing in your direction. One that will make you soar high and above that dark cloud you were stuck in. You’re going to see the bigger picture and you will thank yourself for holding on all these years. Your career and studies are going to take a major positive turn. Luck is in your favor. Yes, you are on the right path. You always were. You just didn’t see it because you were in the maze. But you’ll gain a new perspective soon with that hanged man energy. I feel like you’ll be taking a completely different approach to your life in general. If you were considering completely changing your work methods or habits, that is definitely your sign this is the right thing to do. If you were the kind to follow others and hang to tradition as a safety measure, now you’ll be taking the lead and innovating. If you were the kind to wait for others to notice you and ask about you, now you’ll be the one reaching out and asking about people. And vice versa. You may be learning new skills that will benefit you financially. You may get help from an Earth and/or a Water sign. If you are a Virgo or a fixed sign (Leo, Taurus, Aquarius, Scorpio) then this is your confirmation this reading is for you. You are encourage to keep going in the direction you’re heading and be resilient. You are doing a good job group 3. There may be a connection solidifying in the 3D over time. That grounding of the connection will however happen slowly. It may take a lot of time before it comes to fruition. You may at some point enter a stagnating energy and feel like nothing is moving. Do not be scared when that happens. This is only temporary.
Letters and significant signs : spiders, eyes, squirrels, B, O, K, P, W
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latanyalove · 3 months ago
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Your Dream
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*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚
Pairing: Monkey D Luffy x Y/N
Content: You remembered the reason why you joined Luffy's crew.
A/n: I thought of this idea at 3AM. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing this! <3
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
"So Y/N, what is your dream?" Luffy asked you as you both sat on the Sunny's head, the wind blowing through your hair and the sound of waves crashing in the distance.
"Dream?" you repeated, your mind drifting to a distant place.
"Yeah!" Luffy chuckled, "Like I want to be the King of the Pirates!"
You stared out at the vast ocean, searching for an answer to Luffy's question. But no matter how hard you tried, nothing came to mind. The truth was, you didn't have a dream yet, and that uncertainty weighed heavily on your heart.
Growing up with a drunk father and a wicked mother in a country where such circumstances were unfortunately common, dreams seemed like a luxury you couldn't afford.
You yearned for stability and a sense of belonging, which made finding your own dream all the more challenging.
You remembered your father saying to you, "Dreams are for people who aren't able to accept their fate, people who can't accept their destiny in this world."
Days after he had said that, the whole country was set ablaze, killing everyone except you. In the midst of the chaos and devastation, you found yourself standing alone, carrying the weight of your past and the uncertainty of your future.
You thought that you were fated to die with your family, your friends, and your country in order to fulfill your destiny.
That's until you saw a hand stretching towards you in the midst of the rubble and debris, and you thought it was the world telling you to rest. But as you looked closer, you realized that it was a stranger.
The stranger had a straw hat tilted to the side, casting a shadow over his eyes, and he wore a vibrant red vest that stood out against the backdrop of destruction. His grin was infectious, revealing a genuine warmth and a glimmer of mischief that awakened something within you.
"Hey! Are you okay? My name is Monkey D Luffy and I'm going to be the King of the Pirates. You wanna join my crew?" He asked as if he was oblivious to the destruction around him.
You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond.
But something in Luffy's unwavering determination and genuine belief in his dream sparked a flicker of hope within you. With a smile on your face, you nodded and took his hand, pulling yourself up off the ground.
As you joined Luffy's crew, you realized that your destiny was not to die with your family and country, but to embark on a thrilling adventure as a pirate.
Maybe your destiny was to be with him. . . .
'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'
"Y/N," Luffy's voice brought you back to reality as he tapped your shoulder gently. You turned to him, realizing that you had been lost in your thoughts for a moment.
"Yes Luffy?" you asked, mustering the realest smile you could make.
Luffy saw through your fake smile immediately, his eyes narrowing with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine worry.
"Yeah, why do you ask?" you asked, attempting to deflect his concern.
Deep down, you knew that you couldn't hide your true emotions from Luffy for long.
Luffy replied, "You're crying, and that's not like you at all. What's going on? You can talk to me, you know."
You quickly touched your face and realized that you were actually crying. You tried to wipe away the tears, but they kept coming, betraying the emotions you had been trying so hard to hide. It was as if your tears had a mind of their own, refusing to be held back any longer.
"You know you don't have to keep it in anymore," Luffy muttered, pulling you into a side hug since you were sitting down.
The warmth of his embrace made it impossible to hold back any longer, and you buried your face in his shoulder, letting the tears flow freely.
As you cried into Luffy's shoulder, you couldn't help but grab the back of his vest tightly for comfort, feeling a sense of relief as you let out all the pent-up emotions that had been weighing you down.
His presence was a soothing balm to your wounded soul, reminding you that you didn't have to face your struggles alone.
You are my dream, you thought but you would never dare to say it to him.
In that moment, as you cried into Luffy's shoulder, you realized that he had become more than just a friend to you. Your heart longed to express your feelings, but the fear of rejection held you back.
As the tears subsided and you found solace in Luffy's embrace, exhaustion finally caught up with you. You didn't even notice when you started to drift to sleep, your head resting on Luffy's shoulder, knowing deep down that you were safe and protected in his presence.
"Luffy!- Oh, I didn't know you were busy," a voice said behind us, but you didn't move.
Even though you were half asleep, you could still recognize Nami's voice from a mile away. Despite feeling vulnerable in that moment, you trusted Luffy to handle the situation and protect you, so you remained in his embrace, knowing that he would shield you from any harm.
"It's okay, what do you need," Luffy asked, turning his head round to glance at Nami. His voice was calm and reassuring, a stark contrast to the vulnerability you felt in that moment.
"We're approaching a new island,"
You felt his head turn toward you as he made a low, thoughtful humming sound, the vibrations of it soothing your tired mind.
"I don't see it,"
"The island is covered by an invisible barrier and. . . ." Nami started but stopped with hesitance, unsure of how to continue.
"What is it?" Luffy's tone changed to being serious once hearing Nami's hesitance, his brows furrowing as he prepared himself for the potential danger that lay ahead.
"The island," Nami repeated. "It's the same one that destroyed Y/N's country."
Luffy's grip on you tightened slightly, his protective instincts kicking in. "We won't let that happen again," he said firmly, his voice filled with determination. "We'll just face whatever danger awaits us and protect her." . . .
☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆
Part 2? Comment if you want it. Please support by reblogging, liking and sharing!
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katerinaaqu · 4 months ago
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The Humanity of Odysseus and the Importance of the Curse of Polyphemus (an Odyssey Analysis on Fate and Destiny)
I believe there is one thig that needs to be said about the Odyssey and Odysseus in particular and something I have rarely seen properly adapted. It is the importance of the unchangable fate in antiquity in general and homeric poems in particular. One can say this starts from the character itself; Odysseus name meaning "Anger Bringer" or "Furious" is an indicator that not only the character will be dusliked by many but that he would also cause anger which one can expect would lead to terrible consequences. However I believe the moment Odysseus was truly deprived of all his choices was the infamous Curse of Polyphemus:
In Rhapsody/Book 9 of the Odyssey, Odysseus describes his misadventure with the cyclops Polyphemus and when he revealed himself to him, Polyphemus prays to his father, Poseidon, giving Odysseus a double-curse (as it happens to most predictions that have at least two ways they can go) which goes like this:
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"I call upon you, Poseidon, Earth-bearer with cyan/black/dark hair, if I am your son and you wish to be my father (you wish to be called my father), do it for me so that Odysseus the Sacker of Cities will never reach his home, the son of Laertes who calls Ithaca his home, but if fate calls for him to see his friends and reach his well-built home and his ancestral land, make it so it will be terrible (here return), that he will lose all his companions and in a foreign ship and find misery waiting for him at his home!"
(Translation by me)
So as you can see the curse has two different outcomes
He will never see his home again
If he does, it will be without his companions brought by a foreign ship and he will find misery at his own home when he arrives
At this point, given that the story is "in media res" aka "told from the middle", we know now that the second part is fulfilled, or almost fulfilled. Odysseus is in Scheria, he is alone, he is shipwrecked, there is no sign of any of his companions anywhere so we expect him to return at this foreign ship, aka a Phaeacaean ship to his home at any moment. However by the moment the curse is placed, Odysseus doesn't know which outcome is to befall upon him. And while the second part is weirdly specific (and in a way preparing us for the outcome) the first one is not nearly speficic enough!
Make it so he never sees his land again.
This could mean anything; does he get killed in the ardous trip? Does he get straddled to a place for the rest of his life? Does he somehow lose his...memory and never return home again (similarly to how his men ate the Lotuses at the Lotophagi land)? What is more, nowhere in this part does it say his comrades will survive the ordeal. Although the curse means specifically for Odysseus not reaching his home and one could assume his men would but not Odysseus, that is not guaranteed.
Both of these scenarios are terribly gloom for both Odysseus and his men. So what does Odysseus do? He does what every human being would have done;
He tries to change fate!
He tries constantly to lift the curse:
Even if he knows deep down is pointless, even if he more or less has realized they are off for an arduous trip that will cost them probably all of them their lives, Odysseus STILL TRIES to change the fate! He sails off to find help. He goes to Aiolus and asks for help. He gets the bag. At this point Odysseus is at the end of his wits. He has a chance, he thinks, to change fate, to change the curse. He remains awake for 9 days to make sure he will (see also my other analysis in regards to that) and yet it is all in vain. His men open the bag JUST A LITTLE BEFORE they reach Ithaca and pushed back.
At this point it becomes all the more clear that they are up for an endless journey or a settlement away from home at best case scenario and all to die at worst case scenario. Odysseus doesn't give up! He asks AGAIN, this time he is denied.
And then comes destruction...
They reach the idland of the giant Laistrygonians and here Odysseus suffers the worst loss he has suffered so far; he loses 11 out of his 12 ships in a single raid and barely manages to escape with the rest of his comrades resting on his ship. Right now is clearer than ever that the curse is taking place so the real question is; which of the parts shall it be fulfulled? And they reach the land of Circe. Plenty of his men turn into pigs. Eurylochus barely escapes doom and runs at him to tell him "LEAVE THEM AND GO". Odysseus knows in his bones they are doomed! He knows he either leaves them and fulfulles the second prophecy (for his men already perish little by little) or either way the first part of the prophecy is fulfilled. What does Odysseus do?
He tries AGAIN!
He sells himself to Circe, he requests his men's freedom. He ASKS Circe for advice, he descends the Underworld, asks Tiresias for a course; how he can reach his home, how he can save his men, how he can REVERSE THE CURSE. Even if he knows it is impossible to challenge fate (not even Zeus could transcend fate). In a way he comits a form of hubris hoping to change fate. And yet he is HUMAN! He cannot accept that his men would die that he cannot go home. He wants to TRY! So sure enough he gets a possible way out...
Tiresias gives him hope...
The prophet tells him he can save his men AND reach Ithaca IF they do not eat the cattle of Helios Hyperion. What is more Circe gives him advice for the trip; the course they can follow, the steps they can take and again the warning of NOT eating the cattle of Helios. Odysseus takes heart to those, he DESPERATELY GRABS on them! He thinks he has a chance. Maybe...JUST MAYBE he can reverse this terrible curse! He can MAKE IT RIGHT! He has a chance to change fate! He has a chance to reverse it!
Self-Fulfilled Prophecy
Little does he know though that the trip is already set for failiure. Skylla claims 6 of his best men (his men CONTINUE TO PERISH) and yet Odysseus thinks that this is a sign that he can make it, that the terrible sacrifices will pay off and that he is on his way to break the curse. He is following the instructions therefore it must go well. And come the Cattle Of Helios Hyperion.
An attempt to dodge fate...
Odysseus tells to his men that they should not stop at the island now. He is not ready to take another risk. He will not do the same as the sack of Aiolus. He wants to AVOID THE ISLE ALTOGETHER. If his men are not tepted, they will not break. He intends to keep going and it could have worked...but...
Sure enough his men are tired they need to stop
Odysseus has no choice. At this point he probably realizes there is no way to change fate. He sees it now that everything is up for destruction and he still doesn't know WHICH VERSION will be fulfulled! And even if every part of his brain tells him everything is lost Odysseus REFUSES TO GIVE UP! No, this cannot be the end! There must still be time and space to reverse it!
He makes them promise
Odysseus makes his men swear to everything sacred that no matter what they shall not touch the cattle. That they would survive only with the provisions given by Circe, that they will not be tempted no matter what. Sure enough he extracts the promise from them but of course the prophecy is now moving. Wind is opposite. There is no way they can go. They get straddled for WEEKS. Food is over. Odysseus sees the path is for destruction and yet...
HE TRIES AGAIN!
He goes to the island to pray! There MUST be another way! The gods can hear him...maybe pity him and release them from this! And yet he falls asleep from fatigue, stress and godly intervention. Now the clock is ticking! His men cannot withstand hunger anymore and slay the cattle. Now their fate is shielded. We now know they will die. We know also which part of the prophecy will be fulfulled; Odysseus will come home ALONE, just like we see him narrating alone (even if we might as well wonder whether Odysseus would remain in Scheria, it is pretty much settled that Odysseus returns to Ithaca). However Odysseus doesn't know...but what he fears the most has happened
One last desperate attempt.
Odysseus is human above all. He sees the slain animals, he KNOWS his men will die and even that time he REFUSES to accept it! He REFUSES to give up! He sets sail again, hoping to save them, to save them all (himself included) as they roam for 7 days in the sea
And doom strikes...
His men all perish, his ship is gone! Odysseus is left alone in the sea, fighting for 10 days to the brief of death. Right now Odysseus is no longer struggling to change fate...he is no longer struggling to save anyone but himself...he is struggling
...SO THAT AT LEAST THE FATE IN STORE FOR HIM IS HIS RETURN...
He now has suffered the ultimate loss. He needs to at least make it home! Even if that means without companions, even if that means to be home in misery...he just HAS TO GO HOME! He cannot just perish in the sea or be forever straddled outside Ithaca! And then Calypso happens. Odysseus is left in her isle for 7 years.
He now fears he will never see his home again
He cries every day on the beach. His rape every night is strong enough reason for him to do so but also the fact that he now FEARS that the first section of the prophecy is fullfilled; that he is never to see his home and friends and family again. That his fate was not to perish in the sea but to be forever held against his will away from his beloved home and family. And he is filled with despair. When he has lost all hope that he will ever roam about the sea again; with at least SOME HOPE that the second part of the curse would be fulfilled, he is ready to throw himself in the sea; give an end to his life since there is no point in hoping anymore. The worst scenario has happened for him. He has nothing else to expect...
And it is so...till Hermes brings the order to release him. Now Odysseus finds hope anew that he will return. And he struggles with all his might to survive! Even if he is days out in the sea in a small raft. Even when his raft is destroyed and he has to literally swim to Scheria. his mind goes "NO! I WILL NOT PERISH! I WILL GO HOME!" and sure enough he does and he does meet his friends again and he does find this misery at his home and yet now Odysseus can endure this misery, because he knows he managed to get home and he knows that he has left but ONE TASK according to Tiresias.
He tried to beat fate and he failed...but now he has hope...
So as you see, and forgive me for the long analysis, Odysseus is more human than anyone can imagine and always relatable character. Despite his flaws and mistakes one of the noblest mistakes he made was to think he could change fate and dedicate a large part of his trip trying to do just that; change the curse and save his companions which only ends up to a self-fulfilled prophecy but I doubt anyone can deny that we would all have done the same. I doubt any of us would just abandon all hope and sit tight waiting for the prophecy to be filled either way. He would all have tried to change such a grim outcome!
Because we are human. And so was Odysseus.
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bet-on-me-13 · 1 year ago
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Lady Gotham raises Bruce Wayne
After the tragedy that happened on that fateful night in Park Row, the Spirit of Gotham understood something.
Bruce Wayne was destined to become the Dark Knight of her City, the Protector of Gotham and all of her peoples, as well as one of the Greatest Heroes to ever exist. And to fulfill that Destiny his life would be filled with hardships and pain beyond what most Mortal men would be able to Handle.
So, she decided, "Nope. My child, my rules."
She may not be as caring or compassionate as her Sister, Metropolis, but she can still feel enough compassion to know that she doesn't want this little boy to suffer all that alone.
So she takes on a Mortal Form and crafts herself an Identity, and then gets herself Hired as the new Maid, as a partner to Alfred.
She take up a Maternal Role in Bruce's life, similar to Alfred's Paternal Role. But while Alfred starts teaching Bruce about all of his old MI6 Training, Lady Gotham starts training Bruce is more Mystical stuff.
She basically teaches him everything there is to know about Magic, everything he could possibly ever need.
She teaches him about the different monsters of the world, how they can be beaten and how they can be befriended.
She teaches him about all the different types of Magic she knows of, just so he knows what he is getting into if he ever decides to learn how to use it. Or how to counter it.
She teaches him about all the different dimensions she can think of, from the Fae Wilds to the Ghost Zone. In fact, she teaches him mostly about her own original home, the Infinite Realms.
She tells him about the history of the Realms, how they came to be and all about the beings thay reside there.
She tells him the story of Pariah Dark, the good king who fell to his own Hubris and became a tyrant.
She tells him about Clockwork, the Ghost of an Ancient Tita who now lives in search of redemption by keeping the world safe.
She tells him about the Ancients, who banded together to Seal away the Tyrant Pariah, and then split up to rule over their own Kingdoms.
And this information comes in handy when he eventually becomes the Batman. While he never did learn how to use Magic, he is still one of the most accomplished Magical Consultants in the World (Something that really ticks off a certain sad trenchcoat man). Whenever the League has an Issue with a Magical Threat, they always turn to Batman.
So Lady Gotham thinks she did her job pretty well.
And then he adopts kid...and she absolutely ADORES THEM!
Dick is so Carefree and fun! Jason was such a bookworm, even after his death and resurrection! Tim was such a smart kid, she was honestly hoping he would be chosen as the next Robin. Stephanie added a much needed air of joy to the house, for her short time with them. And Damian was such a petulant but creative child!
She absolutely loves them!
So when some crooks manage to kidnap HER Grandbabies while they are on a civilian family bonding trip to the Park, there will be Hell to Pay.
She may not be as compassionate as her sister, but she can be twice as Vengeful.
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queers-gambit · 10 months ago
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I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up To No Good
prompt: ( requested ) basking in the sunshine, breathing fresh air, bare skin tickled by tall grass, and Felix, who can't focus on the Half Blood Prince when his girl's got his full blooded attention.
pairing: Felix Catton x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Saltburn
word count: 2.3k+
note: i wrote this in an hour 'cause, you know, brainrot.
warnings: slight request variation (you'll see), there's probably cursing. anyways, suggestive language, no real spoilers, slight Ollie slander, college kids doing drugs, and no HP spoilers for those who haven't read.
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All you could smell was his expensive cologne, barely breaking a sweat under the summer sun as he remained wrapped around you like a child did their mother on the first day of school. You were never one for suffocating affection nor clingy behavior, something leftover from childhood, but with your boyfriend, you craved it; and he knew it. He took advantage of it.
"Are you even listening or are you too busy trying to identify the smell of my shampoo?"
"Hmm? Yeah, yeah, 'M listenin', love, uh, you know, something about... Harry doing something stupid, yeah?"
You snorted lightly, head tilting back to look up at your boyfriend's amused expression. "A lucky guess - 'cause Harry's always doing some dumb shit."
"Yeah, you know, there's a reason he wasn't considered for Ravenclaw."
"Don't be mean, we all have our strengths and weaknesses," you gently reprimanded. "So he's not the smartest guy ever, but he's brave as hell, isn't he?"
"Has to be, being a Gryffindor and all."
"I doubt we would've done half this shit at 16."
"Totally right, we had other worries - like our first pregnancy scare."
"Felix!"
"What, doll face? Huh? C'mon, what's the quote? I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!"
"Oh, you absolute cheesy fuck!"
His laugh could've echoed across the field, the two of you laid out on an oversized blanket; crushing the long grass surrounding his home, Saltburn. 'Home' always felt so mundane when describing the freaking castle his family inhabited; after all, his father, Sir James, was literally knighted - making the Cattons feel larger than life. You'd known the family for over a decade now, meeting Venetia on your first day of school when a rude boy smacked your lunch tray right out of your hands, being inducted to their family almost straight away.
As it turned out, your mother and father were friendly with Sir James and his wife, Elspeth Catton, and after only a month in your new town, you were invited to Saltburn for a family meal.
It became a monthly occurrence.
And when you started dating Felix when you were both 15, it was like life was simply alining with the stars. Destiny being fulfilled. Fate smiling on you both.
Your parents tried to play off the relationship, but after you turned 16, they realized how serious you two seemed about each other. And when you both decided to attend Oxford together (rejecting your father's alma mater, the University of Edinburgh), your mother made constant jibes about your wedding. At first, it was just a few, little, sometimes funny, but mostly harmless comments here and there, and then it escalated to full-on conversations between your mothers.
Like they had flowers and color scheme picked out, deciding on hosting at Saltburn, even debating wedding dress ideas! Your mother wanted something lacy, Elspeth wanted something form fitting and "sexy" - being where their opinions clashed and the conversation elevated to near arguments.
Anyways, laying on the blanket in the field, alone, became a regular occurrence for you and Felix once you realized the absolute HOLD the Harry Potter series had on you both. Where the brother and sister had matching HP star tattoos on their hands, that had convinced you to get a set of three stars - your only tattoo, nestled behind your left ear. Venetia technically got you into the series, letting you borrow the first book, and then gifting you each book once published; but it was more like a "tradition" to read them with Felix.
See, when you were younger, you had a stutter that made you wildly insecure, but reading out loud helped you work through it. Was it a perfect system? Of course not, but your boyfriend was adamant that it'd help - and eventually, it did. So much so, you received top marks in each of your public speaking or debate classes, something the Catton's still praised you over.
Felix liked listening, and the times you got a little tongue-tied and frustrated, he would take over to let you a small reprieve. Today was no different, laid in the field, the grass tickling your bare feet and calves as the sun soaked into your bare skin. Either of you only wore a pair of sunglasses, Felix sat up on his elbow to support your body laid against his; his fingers dancing light patterns over whatever body part he could reach. Currently, it was your hip.
He laid quick kisses where he could, whispered sweet nothings in your ear, used his teeth to nibble your flesh. Anything to make you trip over your words, like the little shit he was.
You felt your breathing shift when Felix's lips and tongue ghosted up your neck, sweeping stray strands of hair from your shoulder before his fingertips were ghosting over your collarbone and down your chest to tweak your nipple. The cold of his bracelets and watch on your sticky skin felt like a drastic contrast to the warmth of the day.
"You're infuriating, I'm trying to read," you scolded, swatting his hand away; but smirking in amusement that assured him you weren't truly annoyed.
"Roll over, sweetheart, I needa rest my arm," he muttered in your ear, licking the shell - making you squirm with a small giggle.
"Can you behave? For once?"
"How can I? When you look like this? I mean, Goddamn, I really got the prettiest girl, don't I?" He smirked, watching you lift off his chest to roll onto your stomach; perched on your elbows. "Now, that's a sight, might be my favorite," he grinned, bringing his hand down to smack one of your arse cheeks - palming the flesh tightly, giving a jiggle for his amusement.
"Felix!" You squealed, fully anticipating this treatment; trying to hide your full-teeth grin.
"C'mon, love, let's get a bit naughty," he teased. "Oliver doesn't get here for another two days, we're not gonna be alone much longer."
You scoffed lightly, "You're the one who had to befriend The Clinger."
"Oi, c'mon now, tellin' me t'be nice about Harry? Don't call him that, love, he's just a lonely chap. Needs a friend."
You hummed, readjusting the book under you. "He's a bit creepy, Fi," you admit. "I mean, he stares - like a lot. And remember I told you, I saw him looking through your dorm window that one night?"
He sighed, "He was just drunk, love, we've been over this."
"You're so quick to excuse him," you noted, offering him a bewildered look as he readjusted to lean over your back. His head nuzzled between your shoulder blades, letting a hand pet down the slope of your spine; forcing a small tremor through your muscles.
"He's got no one else."
"Doesn't mean he needs you, my sweet boy. Honestly, you stretch yourself too thin. Maybe if you focused less on these so-called friends and more on your studies...?"
"I appreciate the worry, babygirl," he mused, laying three kisses to your shoulders, "but it's all right, got you quizzing me nightly. Swear, you know my coursework better than I do. And besides, you're the one who says there's no such thing as too many friends."
"Hm," you let your eyes roll slightly, "I was obviously high when I said that and probably didn't mean bloody Oliver."
"Speaking of," he grinned, reaching for the rucksack he brought with you; now hosting your clothes, but also carrying the Altoid tin he used to store pre-rolled joints.
"Are you even listening to the story anymore, baby?"
"Of course I am, toots, I can multi-task." You hummed in response, waiting for him to finish lighting up before continuing onto a new paragraph; feeling him shift on your back. But you faltered when smoke blew against your cheek, Felix's lips descending a moment later to noisily smooch your skin. "You're so fucking pretty," he mumbled.
"I think you have ADHD."
"We knew that."
"Maybe you need something for that."
"Because I'm not listening to Harry Potter?"
"I knew it!" You laughed, shivering again when his free hand drew up your spine to nestle in your hair; handing you the joint with the other. "Fi, you're still distracting me," you moaned slightly, leaning your head back into his touch - contradicting your own words.
"You're doin' great, love," he grinned, licking the skin behind your ear, at your tattoo. "Keep goin', c'mon, I wanna hear what happens next."
"You're gonna reread this chapter when I go to bed, aren't you?"
Felix paused, "Maybe."
You grunted, dropping your head to the book before lifting it again and taking an inhale from the joint. Felix grinned at you in mischief, rolling over onto his back; hand behind his head as he stared up at you. You shook your head at him, handing the joint over before shuffling so you were laid on his chest with the book spread open in one hand.
"Love?" He mumbled.
"Hmm?" You glanced at him.
"Maybe... Uh, yeah, maybe start the chapter over? I'm a bit lost," he snickered, coughing when you tisked at him and offered a slightly annoyed look. "C'mon, baby, you can't tell me you were totally focused, either! You love me touching you, I can see it on your face."
To prove his point, the arm he had wrapped around you drifted to, once more, take a handful of your ample bottom - causing you to gasp slightly.
But you pouted, "I kinda want to finish this chapter, baby."
"And I'm distracting you?"
"Obviously."
Felix laughed, "Spot on Professor Snape, baby."
"If I read like Snape the rest of the chapter, will you pay attention to me?"
"You know what? I don't know, that voice is kinda a turn on... Everything you do is a turn on, doll."
"You'd think the consistent fucking we do would rein in your hormones."
"Nah," he tutted, squeezing his hand, "not when I got a girl like you, gettin' me all riled up. I mean, Half-Blood Prince, who? Got me full blooded, right here." You chuckled when he glanced at his cock, folding the book closed and deflating onto his chest and accepting the joint again. "Oh, c'mon, don't stop, 's just gettin' good!"
"You were calling Harry stupid literally 5 minutes ago."
"Come off it, when isn't he?"
"When he's fighting Voldemort?"
"Hm," he considered, tucking his hand into your hair to massage your scalp; gently pulling through your hair. "You might have a point."
"And now Dumbledore's - "
"Hey, hey, no spoilers!"
"It's not a spoiler if you were listening to me!"
"I'm always listening," he whined, you blowing smoke across his abdomen; watching his abs contract from the slight tickle; his cock bobbing from the movement and making you flush with heat not from the sun. "You're just so much more interesting, hmm?" He mumbled.
"Hey, hey. Flattery gets you everywhere with me," you teased, loving the easiness of his smile. "C'mon, pretty boy, your turn."
He took the joint from you, watching you try to pull back - but tightening his arm. "Stay here, love havin' you close," he mumbled, placing the joint to his mouth and reaching for the book again. Not wanting his arm to retract from your form, you reached up to take the joint from him; listening as he went back to the beginning of the chapter while your leg hiked up his hips.
Every other puff, you fed Felix the joint until there was nothing left; wee small roach being stubbed out in the dirt, leaving you two relaxed, high, and laid over one another as he continued to lazily read. But his hand still traced invisible patterns over your skin, the warmth of the sun making you sweat, but the way your boyfriend touched you made you shiver.
He knew you loved it, yet didn't so much as stutter on a single word when his smirk would grow feeling your reactions to his touches.
At the end of the chapter, he glanced down at you and let his lips follow; tightening his arm to bring you in closer, leaving repeated kisses on your forehead. You squirmed closer, giggling and bringing your hand up to hook around the back of his neck, directing him to your lips as he rolled over so you were on your back and he was hovering over you. "You're distracting me, now, li'l minx," he teased.
"Oh, how unfair, what ever shall you do?"
He chuckled, pecking your lips twice more, then asking, "Another chapter or...?"
"Yes, one more chapter," you laughed, "but then we're gonna have to head back up, your mum wanted my help with something."
"Oh, she's got you some new dresses she wants you to try," he relaid.
"I thought she stopped doin' that?"
"She loves spoiling you," Felix eased. "And Venetia stopped letting Mum dress her, so, you know... Here, you read this one."
You agreed, letting him readjust so he was sat up again, keeping you between his spread legs so he could peer down at the book from over your shoulder. Was it distracting, feeling his fully blooded cock at your back? Absolutely. Was it mildly erotic for you to ignore it and continue reading - as if his warmth wasn't making you wet? Also, yes.
"Fi," you whispered when his lips danced across your shoulder. "Distracting me, again," you half-scolded.
"You're doin' great, love," he chuckled.
But he didn't stop, it was like he was turning himself on (more) by his soft, gentle touches; and being spurred onward when he noted the way your chest heaved when your breath changed.
"Keep goin'," he whispered in your ear, dragging his hands up to cup either bare breast and swipe his thumbs around your nipples to stiffen them into peaks.
"Felix - "
"Don't stop," he encouraged, "'s real endearing the way you're tryna fight this."
"You try to get between me and Potter one more time, we're going on a sex strike."
There was a pause as you looked up at him, both sharing growing grins before bursting into echoing laughter that Venetia heard from one of the loungers close to the house. She grinned to herself, turning the page of her own Half-Blood Prince book.
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requesting rules and masterlist
Saltburn masterlist
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historiasbodyswaps · 9 months ago
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I took possession of the body of my boss's son (male possession)
I am a fairly robust man since I work in an office where the salary is terrible, since we are under the command of a boss who seems like a tyrant. I can only say that my life could not be worse, I have no partner, no money, I am alone, and I live in a miserable apartment.
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One day in the office at approximately two in the afternoon was when I saw him for the first time, it was that young man so handsome and marked that he walked through the corridors of the office with a strong musky smell, it was none other than Emmanuel, the young son of my boss, God, he was so hot that I couldn't stop watching him the entire time he was in his father's office, always so arrogant at his father's desk with those pumped and muscular legs, at that moment my head couldn't stop leaving to think that I wanted his life for myself, to possess that precious body
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Fortunately I had some knowledge on the subject since my grandmother was a kind of witch and I had inherited some books from her, but I never paid attention to them until now. When I got to my dirty apartment I decided to look for them, until I found them in some boxes full of dust that I had in a closet, I knew that this was the time and that possibly there would not be a new opportunity like this.
It was approximately three in the morning when I finally found a spell that suited what I needed. It was my chance. I decided to prepare the potion. After a few minutes I drank it until there was no more left. A while passed and I didn't feel anything. nothing, I was disappointed to the point that I left everything and went to sleep accepting that all this was a farce, I had already accepted in a certain way that my destiny was to be this horrible man and not fulfill my dreams.
This all changed when later in the night my body started to shake, from when I opened my eyes, I couldn't move my body, this was very strange until it all started, my body started to move in an exciting way, I didn't know what was happening. I began to moan from the pleasure of this strange sensation, to the point of contorting myself, I couldn't stand this sensation, until all this stopped.
A while passed and I didn't know what was happening, when suddenly I woke up and thought it was all a dream, when I realized that I was in a different and very luxurious room, surprised I raised my hands and I couldn't believe it, they were younger, softer and muscular, I didn't know what was happening, I got up from that chamber and I felt like my body was lighter, without hesitation I looked for a mirror and it was him, I was seeing Emmanuel's reflection, I can't describe the feeling that passed through me, it was very exciting to the point that I felt a bulge in his crotch, Emmanuel's entire body shook and a picture of excitement began that he could not contain, I had to take off those tight Calvin Klein boxers that he was wearing, and I proceeded to touch that smooth cock that I now had, that experience was incredible that I cannot describe what I felt watching my new body moan with pleasure with that very masculine voice and my abdomen filled with fluids of myself, simply fantastic.
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When I calmed down, I kept thinking about everything I could do with this new body, the sky was the limit, I had my ex-boss's credit card at my disposal, this was incredible, fortunately I kept some memories of Emmanuel and they had Living with my experience, my mind along with this body were unstoppable.
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The following days I dedicated myself to exploring my body, down to the smallest corner. In the afternoons I spent walking around my enormous house. I had all of Emmanuel's servants at my disposal.
I can say that I don't care what happened to my old body since now I have an infinitely better one, I don't regret stealing this male's body, since he didn't deserve it, he was quite conceited and superficial, but now is my chance to use it at will. In the afternoon my new father will teach me more about the family business, I have put on a tight suit on this body that I can say looks spectacular on me, those silk socks fit my calves perfectly.
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In the afternoons I go to my private gym where I put on the tightest leggings I can find, I love the feeling of the fabric rubbing against my muscular and sweaty body.
That was it, I have to go, since I have an appointment to put this well-endowed body into action, being Emmanuel is great and I love that this is my life now.
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prythianpages · 4 months ago
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Outta My Mind | Cassian
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cassian x love witch reader | summary: Cassian has not been able to get you out of his mind and after receiving a gift, he decides to finally visit your shop and take you up on a love reading.
warnings: tarot reading, fluff
word count: roughly around 3,700
a/n: I am not experienced in tarot reading (I've only been on the receiving end and even then, it's been virtual) so I just pulled from google and what I've seen on tiktok. I apologize for any mistakes there and will happily fix them!
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As Cassian has breakfast with his family at the Riverhouse, the usual lively chatter fills the room. Feyre was talking about Nyx’s reaction to soft foods, Mor cooing after him and Azriel laughing when Nyx pulled her hair. Rhysand had gone to check who had rung the doorbell. Cassian’s mind was elsewhere, lost in thoughts of a mysterious witch.
It was bewildering, really. 
The way he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you, despite barely knowing you. Since he first set his eyes upon you at the bar, he felt something. He couldn’t pinpoint the feeling but after you crashed into him, it all seemed to click into place.
You, a love witch, had found him.  
Just two weeks ago, he had been wishing upon the stars for love, and there you were, shining brightly with promise.
Your business card has been sitting on his nightstand since the night he met you. The pink card is like a night light, its shimmer never fading. He stared at it every night before drifting off, torn between fear and hope, wondering whether he should take you up on your offer for a love reading.
Yet, you had failed to fulfill one of the promises you made—buying him a shirt to replace the one you had stained. He could care less about the shirt, though. A part of him had been hoping you’d find him again, stumble upon him like you did at Rita’s. Because now that you held the answers to his questions, a deep anxiety gnawed at him. What if what you had to say wasn’t what he wanted to hear?
Fate was a fickle thing. What if it wasn’t in his destiny to have a mate? To have love? What if the stars had sent you to pull him out of his delusion and deliver bad news?
“Looks like someone got a present,” Rhysand says as he walks into the dining room with a handful of mail and another holding a package. He waves the bright pink package, ears straining to hear the sound it gives for a clue.
“Oh, they shouldn’t have bothered!” Mor quips, leaning forward in her seat with a grin.
But Rhysand places the package in front of Cassian, shoving his empty breakfast plate aside. The clinking of silverware against porcelain makes Cassian blink, snapping out of his trance.
“You?” Mor says in disbelief, eyes widened slightly.
Everyone turns their head toward Cassian, his red siphons gleaming under the sudden attention. He stares at the package, feeling the weight of everyone’s curiosity.
“Well?” Feyre urges, shifting Nyx in her arms to lean over too. “What are you waiting for?”
“Who’s it from?” Azriel asks, his shadows fluttering toward him, also curious. Mor stands from her seat to peek at the name, frowning when she finds nothing but Cassian’s name on the package. Feyre and Rhysand exchange a glance, the latter shrugging in response.
Cassian swats at the nosey shadows. There’s no indication of the sender. Yet, he has an inkling, the color of the package nearly screaming it at him. Knowing the others would simply follow him to his room if he chose to open it in private, he unties the red bow. There’s a nervous flutter of excitement in his stomach as he opens it.
Inside, he finds three neatly folded white dress shirts. The first two were silky and almost identical to the one you had accidentally stained. The third shirt was different. Bold. It was a short-sleeve, sheer mesh shirt that glimmered in the light. A shirt he’d never buy himself but felt inclined to try on. 
“Shirts?” Rhysand questions with an amused chuckle.
As Cassian unfolds the shirts, he notices that all of them have carefully placed slits on the back to accommodate his wings, as if they’ve been tailored after being bought. His family watches, intrigued and amused. 
“Well, come on, Cas. Who’s it from?” Feyre prompts and the babe in her lap babbles as if asking the same question, his tiny hands smacking the table in delight.
The room seems to hold its breath as Cassian runs his fingers over the fabric. He feels the subtle hum of magic beneath his fingertips. “Someone,” he says, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 
“Someone I need to go see.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ★ ˏˋ˗ 
Cassian ignores his family’s protest as he rises from his seat. Strengthening the shields of his mind, he thought he heard a hint of disappointment from Feyre. He didn't want to tell them about you. Doing so would only invite more questions—questions he wasn't ready to answer, as he was unsure of them himself.
He doesn’t need to return to the House of Wind for your business card, the address of your shop engraved into his heart after reading it so many times. As he makes his way to you, there’s that nervous flutter in his stomach again. It accompanies him all the way to your shop, threatening to burst when he finally stands in front of the door.
The words “Moonlight Spellcrafts” on the sign above shimmered softly, beckoning him inside with an irresistible allure. Bells chimed as he pushed open the door, and inside, he was greeted by a sharp “meow.”
A fluffy white cat with the brightest of blue eyes and pink bow around its neck blinks up at him before darting away and chasing after something unseen to Cassian’s eyes. His gaze follows the cat's movement, lifting to find you.
A vision in pink like clouds at the break of dawn. 
You wore a halter top that offered teasing glimpses of constellations etched onto your back, while your bell-bottom pants flared out with fluffy trimmings, resembling wisps of cotton candy that swayed with every step. Your platform heels tapped softly on the polished wooden floor as you guided a customer toward the wall of potions.
You pause, most likely from the sound of the bells, and just as you turn your head, Cassian swiftly ducks out of view. He hides behind a shelf—a challenging feat given his size and stature. He folds his wings tightly against his back to make himself as small as possible. He carefully walks around your shop, stealing glances at you every time he can.
He tells himself it’s to walk off the nerves.
Much like you, your store is bathed in hues of pink as well as reds and deep purples. Shelves line the walls adorned with an array of mystical books, each tome brimming with ancient wisdom and spells of the heart. Tarot cards of all designs are on display and glittering crystals sparkle under the soft lights. They cast a warm, inviting glow over the array of potions you are still showing the customer.
Heart-shaped mirrors with gilded frames adorn one of the walls and when he catches a glimpse of himself, he hastily fixes his hair. The fluffy white cat from before pops out of nowhere, startling him. It watches him intently, as if sizing up the tall, Illyrian male before it. Had it been following him the entire time?
“Honey!” A voice cooes. 
Not yours.
He follows the voice anyway and meets the gaze of a young fae. Her skin is a soft green, intricate lines adorning her face. Dark hair, painted with bright fuchsia at the ends, seems to glow as she stares back at Cassian from behind the counter, raising her eyebrows inquisitively.
Cassian manages a small smile before quickly turning away, avoiding any further interaction. He finds himself along a back corner where rare herbs and jars of unknown substances are meticulously organized. The air there is thick with mingling scents of rose, lavender, and sandalwood, teasing his senses and lingering in his nose until he sneezes.
Loudly. Obnoxiously. He swears he hears a startled cry from one of the customers inside the shop.
His wings flare slightly, stirring the jars behind him. Eyes widening, he turns to stabilize them, only to accidentally knock over other jars with his wings. He winces at the clatter and the subsequent sound of your approaching footsteps.
˗ˏˋ ★ ★ ˏˋ˗ 
“Are you alright?”
Shards of glass scatter across the wooden floor, the moonwater inside splashing out and spreading in a widening pool that stops at your feet. But your attention is focused on the hunched over Illyrian male.
Cassian stands up straight, hints of scarlet painting his cheeks, his broad shoulders tensing. “I’m sorry. I can pay for this.”
Amusement dances in your eyes, finding this situation all too familiar. “You’ll have to take me to the moon.”
He nods, the sincerity in his expression making the corner of your lips quirk up. He has no clue over the contents he just spilled.
“Just kidding,” you say, giggling at the look of relief that flashes across his face. “It’s just moonwater. I can easily make more next full moon. We really have to stop meeting this way, though. It’s a bit too messy for my liking.”
At your words, Cassian moves to clean up the mess but you stop him by raising your hand. Pink stardust flares out from your other hand as you summon a broom. You lean it against your hip, hesitating for a bit. With a hopeful look in your eyes, you snap your fingers, bracing yourself. Just in case.
Cassian can't help but take a step back. Also just in case as he recalls the way your magic had failed in cleaning up the stain on his shirt. But much to your relief, the spilled moon-water magically disappears. "Oh, thank The Cauldron," you murmur, sweeping the glass shards into one small pile before snapping that away too.
The sigh that leaves your lips is one of great relief. You wipe at the nonexistent sweat from your forehead. With a sweet smile, you look back at Cassian.
“I’m assuming you got my gift.”
“You didn’t have to, you know. I was also joking.”
“I wasn’t." Your smile falters. "I take fashion very seriously here, General.”
Cassian looked over your pink outfit again, trying his best to ignore the flutter in his stomach at the way you said his title. “Clearly,” he replies. “How did you know where to find me?”
“Magic.” You grin up at him, waving your fingers at him in a teasing manner.
His gaze narrows skeptically and you shrug in response. “Your wings and siphons gave you away. There’s not many Illyrians here in Velaris. Just the High Lord, the Shadowsinger and the Lord of Bloodshed. And given that the High Lady was not with you and the lack of shadows around you and the way red suits you, I took an educated guess. It was easy to find you then.”
“Where’d you find the shirts?” He asks, giving into his curiosity. Though, he really wanted to ask how you knew they would fit. Not just his broad frame but his wings as well.
“Another perk of there being a few Illyrians in Velaris. I bought the shirts from a boutique up the street and then I visited a couple of tailor shops until I found the one familiar with dressing certain Illyrians. That’s why it took me a bit to get them to you. I do hope you like the third one. A little bold but I think you’d look great in it.”
Cassian’s gaze softens, touched by the lengths you went to keep your promise. “Cassian,” he says after a moment. “You can call me Cassian.”
“Okay, Cassian,” you beam, feeling a warmth spread through you at his name on your lips. “You can call me y/n, dear, spell-slingin’ sweetheart or just sweetheart. Whatever tickles your fancy.”
“Just don’t call me bewitching babe,” you add as an afterthought, nose scrunching up in a small grimace. “Or I’ll have to hex you.”
Cassian’s brows raise slightly, interest piqued, wondering how someone could ever get on your bad side. “Noted, y/n, ” he nods and you give an appreciative grin.
“I believe I also promised you a love reading, didn't I?"
You point your hand up and to the right, Cassian’s eyes following the movement to a vibrant neon sign that reads, “Love This Way.” The words are written in cursive, each letter beholding a string of small, glowing bulbs that twinkle like enchanted stars. The phrase is flanked by a trio of heart-shaped neon lights, each one pulsing and pointing toward dark, red curtains.
˗ˏˋ ★ ★ ˏˋ˗ 
Right. The reason why he came to you. Well, one of them, at least. The longer he lingers in your presence, the stronger the pull he feels towards you, blurring the line of reason. 
“Come on,” you beckon him to follow you but Cassian can’t bring himself to move. 
Sensing his hesitation, you pause, turning your head to look back at him from over your shoulder. “I don’t bite. Unless you ask me to.”
An odd yet thrilling shiver runs up Cassian’s side. His lips twitch upwards, indulging in the foreign sensation and then he’s following after you, careful to not knock anything else over.
"Can't say the same for the lovebugs that dwell in this place, though. Those sneaky little things love the element of surprise. They say it's luck if you're bitten by them. Means you've met your true love..."
As he walks behind you, he notices small altars dedicated to different aspects of love. Romantic love, self-love, platonic-love, erotic love... The flames dancing from the candles seem to burn with a life of their own, the ones from the passionate love alter swaying his direction as he walks past it.
You move gracefully, your presence as enchanting as your shop. There’s a pause in your step, the two of you reaching the dark, starry curtains. “Be a doll for me and tend to the front, will you, Moxie?” You call out, pointed ear twitching as you await a response.
“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Cassian hears the young fae from earlier grumble.
As you lean in close to Cassian, standing on your tip-toes, even in heels, he's reminded of just how much he towers over you. Your hair brushes against his leathers, red siphons softly glowing as he’s suddenly overwhelmed with the scent of roses and vanilla.
“She’s my little apprentice and a little upset that her spell went haywire and turned her hair fuschia instead of magenta.”
Cassian’s brows knit together. “What’s the difference?”
“I cannot believe you just said that!” You gasp in mock horror yet Cassian detects a subtle hint of sincerity in your tone.
“I can hear you, you know!”
You mouth a “whoops” to Cassian before exclaiming: “I’ll be in the back! Love you, my dearie!” 
Cassian watches in a curious, fascinated manner as you blow a kiss toward Moxie. Pink stardust glimmers and shimmers as it floats in the air, fluttering toward the young face. It meets her cheek with a small "mwah" and there's a softness on your features despite Moxie's groan that melts away at Cassian's earlier reservations.
His heart flutters in anticipation when you reach for his hand. Your fingers ghost over his wrist, sending a spark rushing through him, as you guide him forward while your other hand pushes the grand curtains back. 
“Don’t worry. This room is sound-proof,” you tell him. “Whatever you ask or speak will remain confidential. Cross my heart!”
Cassian’s eyes widen as he takes in the room that is also bathed in a palette of vibrant pinks and soft pastels. Yellow, glowing lights shaped like stars dangle from the ceiling and quotes of affirmations are framed along the walls. Two luxurious, bubblegum-pink sofas face each other, adorned with an assortment of colorful cushions in shades of turquoise, lavender, and blush. Between them, a low table draped with a velvet cloth holds an array of tarot cards, crystals, and other mystical tools, ready for the next reading.
“Have a seat,” you say, letting go of his wrist to seat yourself on the plush carpet. 
You had gestured to one of the sofas but Cassian follows after you, seating himself across from you. His large frame makes the small table look even smaller and there's a coy smile on your face. He wonders if you're thinking the same as him.
Dressed in black leathers with siphons and daggers hilted at his waist, Cassian sticks out like a sore thumb. Yet, despite his dark attire and rugged appearance, there’s an undeniable allure about him that seems to complement your ambiance.
Your eyes, wide and knowing, meet his. He swears for a moment your pupils formed a heart shape, but when he blinks, he finds them dilated into round circles. The star-shaped lights reflect in them, and he finds himself unable to look away.
“Is this your first time?”
“Yes.”
“Is there anything in particular you’d like to know?”
Yes.
“No.” 
You give him a skeptical look, sensing the lie simmering beneath his calm facade. You may just be able to hear his racing heart.  “Are you scared?”
Yes.
“No.” 
“Don’t be scared.”
“I’m not,” Cassian insists, though his heart is ringing in his ears.
Humor twinkles in your eyes as you easily see through his lie.
“I’ll go slow and talk you through it,” you say, your voice teasing yet reassuring. “I'd offer to hold your hand too, but unfortunately, I require both for this,” you add, reaching for the deck of cards. “We can do a broad reading.”
The sound of shuffling draws his gaze from your eyes to your hands. He watches, mesmerized by the fluidity of your movements. The cards seemed to whisper secrets only you can hear, the loose locks of your hair swaying gently from an invisible breeze. One card flies from your hands, and you catch it mid-air between two fingers.
You lay it before him with a raised brow. The Lovers.
"It seems you are destined for a profound connection. Something tells me it will be unexpected but undeniable.” 
A wave of relief washes over him, lifting a weight from his chest. There’s a small part of him that remains skeptical. It seemed too coincidental for you to pull that card during a love reading. The way he leaned forward slightly betrayed his doubt. 
He barely knew you, but he already found himself trusting you. There was something about you that was inherently relaxing, almost comforting—like the feeling of being at home. You sure were a master of creating a wonderful ambiance.
As you continued to lay out the cards that fly out, each one seemed to weave a story of passion and a deep bond. Cassian finds himself drawn into the narrative you’re spinning.
"Who is she?" he asks, his voice softer, more serious.
"Usually I can gather some general characteristics. I fear I'm at a blank here. But..." Your gaze narrows at the cards, studying them intently.  "She is someone who will challenge you, make you see the world differently. She'll walk you through all aspects of love. Someone who is closer than you think...” 
A shudder runs through you, those heart-shaped pupils returning for a brief moment. "You'll never feel alone again," you add, voice a mere whisper and tinged with a wistful longing.
Cassian feels a strange flutter in his chest, an unfamiliar sense of anticipation and yearning. "And when will I meet her?"
You draw the final card, lips curving into a pensive frown. “It's a little unclear. You may or may not have already met her.”
Cassian visibly relaxes, leaning backwards, his wings meeting the sofa behind him. At least it has been confirmed that there is someone for him. That's what had mattered the most to him.
His thoughts drift back to the days before in deep wondering. Could it have been the pretty fae at the bakery who had slipped an extra croissant in his order? No, she’s married... Maybe, it was the friend Emerie had brought to Valkyrie training yesterday morning…
You must sense the thoughts racing through his mind. “What’s your type?”
The question throws him off guard. He tilts his head thoughtfully. “I don’t have one.”
“What of your past lovers?”
“I fear there’s too many to recount them all. Do you remember yours?”
“It’s kind of in my nature to,” You laugh softly, a sound laced with a subtle bitterness that matches the distant look in your eyes. “There must have been important lovers in your life, though. Ones that lingered in your heart, beheld the title of something more…”
“My first girlfriend was a Valkyrie. She died in the great war.”
Your eyes glistened with sympathy and he hesitates, a mixture of contemplation and something unreadable flickering across his face before he continues. “My second girlfriend was strangely also a valkyrie. I trained her, taught her everything she knows. But it didn’t work out, she didn’t choose me…”
“It sounds like you do have a type to me,” you say, trying to lighten the situation. 
Judging by the look in your eyes, he knows you’re also familiar with the heartache that comes with past relationships. He catches the way your gaze flickers down to your soft, manicured hands, noting the fleeting light of wistfulness that crosses your features. 
You blink and suddenly your face lights up, beaming with hope. “Third time's a charm,” you remind him of the old saying and suddenly your entire face lights up, eyes beaming like a beacon of hope. You jump to your feet.
“Sizzling Cauldron!”
Cassian startles at your sudden outburst. He watches you as you begin to pace back and forth, murmuring to yourself. His ears strain to catch the words slipping from your glossy lips but he only catches “stars” and “wishes.” 
You look at him, eyes still shining bright.
“We were meant to be!”
Cassian’s heart skips a beat, his wings fluttering as he looks up at you. “What?”
“I was meant to find you–to help you find love.” You clarify, pointing a finger at him before letting out a delighted squeal. “I’ll be your wingwoman–well, wingless wingwoman, ha! This is going to be just wonderful!”
Cassian rises to his feet, watching as you continue to pace back and forth, moving your hands animatedly. He's sure you're burning a hole into the plush carpet. He looks at you in slight concern when you suddenly begin to speak in riddles, gaze flickering to the curtains behind you, contemplating if he should sneak out. Surely, you wouldn't notice in your current state...
"In a quest to help you find true love, I heed the guidance from the stars above. The Cauldron's blessing and The Mother’s gentle kiss I shall earn. And with my magic, I shall return. Once my strength begins to grow…what I seek, I too shall know!”
Cassian makes a face. “I’m not sure we’re speaking the same language here…” he trails off. But your excitement and joy are contagious.
“Help me, help you,” you clarify again, your pacing feet coming to a stop. The room seems to buzz with the energy of your determination.
You turn your body to face his, outstretching a hand. He eyes it for a moment. A jolt of energy passes between you two when he takes your hand in his, the red magic from his siphons dancing with your pink magic.
Your eyes lock, and for a moment, Cassian feels a deep, inexplicable connection.
 “So...what now? ” He asks, shaking off that feeling as he shakes your hand. It has to just be your power charming him, you're practically glowing. "Does this make us friends?"
You give his hand a squeeze, mirroring the hope that had tightened in his chest.
“The best of friends.”
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a/n: Little do you know that the true love you're meant to help him find is literally you lol. I live for the irony in this. Also, hope Cas isn't too out of character. I just needed him to vibe with love witch in the beginning of this au. She's a little delulu but I hope you love it as much as I love writing it <3
Since I live for the aesthetic of this au, I put the pictures I used for inspo for love witch's shop below.
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futurepastme · 7 months ago
Text
AU where Merlin knows what Arthur actually means by giving him the sigil
His eyes water
"Arthur I can't..."
"Just take it."
"I know how important this is to you, when something is that important you should do everything to keep it safe."
"I am. I'm giving it to you. Couldn't be safer"
Merlin throws himself at Arthur giving him a quick but tight hug.
"Thank you for trusting me."
Later, Merlin manages to save everybody's life by sacrificing himself and Arthur has the talk with Gaius.
"All this for a destiny he won't be able to see come true"
"No, my Lord. Everything Merlin did was for you, not because some prophecy said he had a destiny to fulfill, but because he cared about you very dearly. In fact, I believe there was nothing more important to him than you."
After that, Arthur goes back to his chambers to finally get rid of his clothes and try to sleep, heart and councience heavy with grief.
It is then, while taking off his clothes, that he finds it. His mother's sigil hidden within the folds of his cape.
"When something is that important you should do everything to keep it safe."
He cries himself to sleep. That night and many others
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