#pov: any new rumor

[saah4r]

Cam: Am I in trouble?

Savannah: Take a guess.

Cam: No?

Savannah: Take another guess.

[rainy-day-gracie]

- wedding night (1) -

A Venus & Mars mini series

pairing: general marcus acacius x virgin!wife!reader

content warning(s); dual pov, arranged marriage, implied age gap but nothing specific, period typical misogyny (Ancient Rome), mentions of violence/warfare, mention (1) of sexual violence (not against reader), mentions of pregnancy, attempted bedding ceremony, reader has hair that can be pinned back, steamy kisses, crazy amounts of sexual tension, discussions of consent because consent is sexy mandatory, virgin!reader, SOFTTTTT marcus acacius, romantic and intimate as hell, grievous historical inaccuracy because it's fucking fanfiction, canon divergent because duh

a/n: this has been living in my head for weeks now, along with every new photo we get of general marcus acacius because of course. this can be read as a prequel to bloodlust, or read entirely on its own. the reader insert is written as the same character in each fic.

this will be part 1 of the wedding night, and part 2 will include smut :)

---

You considered bolting as the sun rose on the morning of your wedding day. Stealing one of the nobleman's horses, putting as many miles as you could between yourself and the General's country house.

But, from what you've heard about the General, there would not be a corner of the earth that he would not find you in.

Your palms were clammy with sweat as the handmaidens pinned your hair back into a style of a bride. You wondered how they couldn't possibly hear the quick, panicky beating of your heart as each moment brought you closer to what you considered a life sentence.

General Marcus Acacius is venerated like a god in Rome, and anywhere else. Men boast about his wartime accomplishments as if they were their own, and ladies whisper about his scarred face like they would a demon within the walls.

So many rumors swirling around the Emperor's most esteemed general.

His hands were permanently stained red with blood, he burns the heads of his enemies in sacrifice to the gods, he kills men with icy calculation, takes women with fiery passion.

You could only imagine what kind of monster was waiting for you at the altar.

---

Marcus was in no good spirits on the day of his wedding, the marriage forced on him almost as much as it was forced on his...

Gods above, his bride.

The idea of having a bride was almost as foreign as you yourself were, since never once had Marcus even considered marrying anyone. With all the bloodshed and near-death experiences, he never exactly considered himself a man that was meant to be a husband. Or a father, for that matter.

Marcus tried not to shudder at the end of the aisle as the chorus began singing, sounding all to close to a death march.

At the sound of the choir, you entered into the wedding hall, for all gods and men to see.

His bride.

The world seemed to be brighter, the flowers bloomed more beautiful, and Marcus' vision turned clearer as you stepped into his sight.

For a moment, he forgot all about the blood of men on his hands. The shame that burdened him was cast off. Maybe he wasn't completely condemned to the Underworld.

The very possibility of you being his bringing him more relief than any wine or fine lady. The possibility of you being in his life was... redeeming. Redefining. Remaking.

One look, and he made a vow, but not to you. To himself.

If any harm were to come to you, he would unleash the fury of the gods upon them. He would protect you to the end of his days. Honor you, and serve you, however you may wish.

---

Fear coated your every nerve as you beheld your soon-to-be husband.

Nothing could have prepared you for just how mighty General Acacius was. Tan, broad, and mighty, dressed in fine white robes similar to yours. His bare hands were strong, made for swinging axes, throwing punches, and taking what he wanted. At the altar, he seemed to be near brooding, speaking his vows quietly, his voice like a roll of thunder.

You managed to keep your voice steady while you spoke your vows, but there was nothing you could do to keep your hands from shaking as the priest brought out the rings.

The general reached for your hand, and you were unable to keep from trembling.

His touch was warm on your skin, his calloused fingers surprisingly gentle as he slid the gold wedding band onto your finger. You found the nerve to meet his brown eyes, finding something utterly unreadable as he held your gaze. Could it be... fondness?

Gods, he was beautiful.

His touch steadied you, though you still exchanged rings with a thundering heart.

"In the sight of Gods and men, you are now Husband and Wife. You may kiss your bride, General."

The priest's words echoed in your head.

Husband and Wife.

The general leaned forward, an unspoken question in his warm eyes.

Swallowing, you gave a near imperceptible nod.

For such a harsh man, such a dominating man, his kiss was utterly... soft. Tender. Almost coaxing.

After a moment, he pulled away first, and you could've sworn he lingered, cherishing the air between you... before turned to the cheering wedding party.

In an instant, he changed, switching from the gentle kiss of a lover to a commanding force, a man that drinks in praise like fine wine.

A mighty man, indeed.

---

Marcus tried his best to not feel too wounded that his new wife was completely terrified of him.

He felt the thundering pulse in your hand as he slid that ring on, and he wondered if you saw the wedding band as a chain, a set of shackles. It's all too true for other women in Rome.

You barely spoke to him during the wedding feast, only giving small nods and forced smiles in between sips of wine. He had a good feeling you were resisting the urge to swallow it down in one gulp.

Marcus couldn’t help but study you— at first innocently, taking in the curve of your lips, the shine of your eyes, the polite smile you gave when someone offered congratulations.

Damn his dirty mind. As the night went on, and the celebrations continued beyond what he would’ve liked, he tried, and failed, not to eye your body as a means of distraction from the rowdy feast.

It started with your neck. He traced the slope of it with his eyes, marking every freckle and curve. He prayed to all the gods that you would want him to leave his marks on you.

Downward, he peeked slightly at your breasts whilst cursing himself. Of course, they appeared perfect beneath your wedding stola, and he wondered what manner of sounds you would make when he took them into his hands, into his mouth.

And then… Gods, those hips—

“Time for the bedding ceremony!” Emperor Geta jeered, pulling you from your seat with a firm jerk of your elbow. His eyes were greedy, scheming. “Let us see what is underneath that—“

Your face flushed with either embarrassment or fear or both. And that was all Marcus needed to see.

“There will be no bedding ceremony.”

Marcus lowered his voice to a deep warning, the kind that has sent men running for their lives.

Geta scoffed, still holding to your elbow. “It’s a wedding, Acacius, it’s your wedding. Don’t you want to show off the prize of your latest conquest? Distribute the winnings? Strip down that—“

Marcus stood, towering several inches over Geta’s slimy face. “I said… there will be no bedding ceremony.”

Geta kept his hands on you, and Marcus’s vision tinged with red hot fury.

His voice was a rumble, a threat in itself. “It’s my wedding, is it not? And I say there will be no bedding ceremony.”

People were watching now, the feast gone silent at this standoff.

Marcus knew how to pick his battles, cut his losses. But when staring down Geta, the most powerful man in the empire, he realized that for you, he would pick every single one if it meant he kept you safe.

The moments that passed were crackling, the tension between the two men sucking all the air from the celebratory hall.

Geta saw something in Marcus’s unyielding gaze, something that told him he would not win this fight, and decided the bedding ceremony wasn’t worth the scrutiny.

As the Emperor walked away, Marcus took your hand, and led you to your marriage bed.

—

You couldn’t find the words.

The general nearly trembled in rage on the walk to the bedchambers, but still, he maintained that odd gentleness, holding your hand as if it were the most delicate thing in the world.

Servants opened the grand doors as you entered, showing a large room with a massive four poster bed and elegant tapestries lining the walls—

Then the doors shut. And you were left alone with the legendary, bloodletting general.

And you still couldn’t find the damn words.

You knew what came next. The husband will take what is now his.

In this case, you expected your husband to take you in the same way he took lands for the empire— violently, mercilessly, with the intention of forging new legacy, through a son of Rome.

“Before you ask, my General, I wish to assure you that I am untouched,” you blurted, quoting what your mother taught you to say before you were to be… intimate. “I am pure, though I can only hope to be worthy—“

“Darling wife,” the general said quietly, so different from the commanding force from the feast. He held your hands in his, leaning down and kissing your knuckles in reverence.

You went silent, shocked at the soft fondness in his tone.

He peered at you with curiosity, and almost amusement. “The only thing I wish from you is for you to call me by my name, not title. No general, no lord, but my name. I hear it so little nowadays that I will look forward to hearing it from your lips.”

“As you wish… Marcus,” you breathed, eyes locked on his.

Marcus let out a little sigh, like he was relieved. “It’s much prettier when you say it.”

You drop your head in bashfulness, more confused by the moment. The way he spoke so kindly, so fondly.

“You know what is meant to happen tonight?” Marcus asked, almost hesitantly. You nod, undeniable fear curling in your stomach. “I need you to understand something, my darling, so listen very carefully.”

He pulled you toward the bed, sitting you both down on the silken sheets. His eyes on yours were discerning, and intent, like he was searching for something within your stare.

“I will never, ever, force myself upon you. Not in this life, or the next, or the next. I know what you might’ve heard about me, and much of it is true, but never would I take a woman without her permission. You belong to yourself, and if you never should like me in your bed, I will honor that to the end of my days."

You blinked at him in confusion. "So, you do not... you do not want me?"

Marcus exhaled sharply, looking down at your intwined hands. "That... that does not matter."

"Why not? A husband has the right to take what is his--"

"No man has any right to take a woman's body for himself, husband or not. What... what do you think is to happen tonight?"

Heat rises to your face, embarrassed at the question. By the look on his face, he was embarrassed, too.

"I don't... I don't know how it works, but some of the other wives at court say that the consummation of marriage is one of the more... painful duties of a wife. What you are meant to do to me... it's painful," you murmured, and quickly begin stammering. "B-but is it a great honor to serve you, my--"

"May I kiss you, darling?"

Some candles had been left burning, illuminating him in a warm glow. Marcus's eyes were soft, a rich, chocolate brown in the light of your bedroom, and something about them made your core flutter like one of the candles.

"Yes... yes, please."

Marcus smiled softly, and moved his hands to the sides of your neck. They were scarred, and calloused... and so warm.

His lips met yours almost hesitantly, like he was holding himself back. They were tender, tasting of sweet wine. Fingers curled lightly into your pinned hair, pulling you closer as his chest pressed against yours.

You moved your mouth with his, suddenly feeling the need for... more. You didn't know what, but you just knew you needed it.

His tongue slipped against yours, and the groan that left his throat left your pussy throbbing.

"Marcus--" you gasped, losing your breath as his lips traveled down to your neck. You could've sworn he moaned in response, sucking at your pulse point, leaving it a delicious shade of red--

"Do you want me to keep going?" He gruffed, trailing light kisses along your throat.

Oh, gods, how you wanted him to. "Yes, but..."

Marcus withdrew instantly at your seemed hesitation, pulling his mouth away but keeping his hands in your hair.

"I'm fearful," you admitted, holding his tunic to keep your hands from shaking with both desire and nerves. "Not of you, but... the rest of it."

Marcus nodded, swallowing. "We could continue kissing, if you like."

You laughed lightly, the nerves mellowing for a moment. "I'm not sure I'm prepared to have you in that way, but I know that I want to. I know that I... I want you."

Marcus's soft eyes shone with fondness, but had a wicked edge to them, like he was plotting something.

"I know I want you as well, darling. I promise, I will make sure you are prepared to have me... perhaps even over-prepared."

Your brows furrowed with confusion. "What do you mean?"

The general smiled. "I'll show you what I mean."

Part 2 here!

[axolotl4days]

Batfam au angst :) also leading into (platonic) yandere batfam

What if Jason wasn't the first kid to die :)

And what if Damian wasn't Bruce's only biological kid :)

Au idea I'm simple terms: what if Bruce had a daughter in his early years of batman, who went missing and dead, but then years later reappeared and was found again, Bruce and the others won't make the same mistake twice.

Author's note before reading: Please keep in mind I'm new to this fandom, so I don't know much about what's canon. I simply get creative ideas really easily and have decided to share them.

If anyone else likes this idea, feel free to rewrite or add onto the concept, if you do please tag me I'd love to see what others do with this concept

I'm picturing reader to be the same age as or potentially slightly younger than Damian, but no specific ages are mentioned

Damian POV:

It was a day like any other, awful, Damian had to go to school. He didn't hate school, just the people there, loud, annoying, nosy.

He went about his day the same as always, reading in class and working on his work, until suddenly the principle came to class abruptly saying they had a new student, which the teacher promptly assigned to sit next to Damian. Great.

The teacher also informed him that he would be the one to show this new student around. So Damian braced himself for the extra annoying questions about him and his family, after all that's what people always want to know.

But to his suprised? This girl didn't care about any of that, simply asking questions about the class and school. She didn't even ask if he was really a Wayne, she looked a bit suprised but it wasn't the usual suprise most people had, and she didn't ask him any questions about it so it didn't matter.

As he showed her around he found out that they had the same classes, he heard her sigh of relief, but when questioned she said she was glad because it ment she wouldn't be alone in any of her classes and she'd have someone to turn to.

As the day went on they would go to class and work on classwork, it seems his new classmate was a lot smarter than the rest of them and he didn't have to constantly help her with work.

At the end of the day he made a mental note of a new acquaintance.

Later that day

"Ah, Master Damian, welcome back. How was your day at school?" Alfred asked, greeting the young boy

"It was alright Pennyworth, we had a transfer student today, but she seemed to be quite intelligent unlike the rest of those peasants" Damian replied

"Oh? A transfer student? In the middle of the school year? How odd."

"Yeah, I'll keep an eye out for any suspicious behavior, but there wasn't anything out of the ordinary, her name is Y/n." Damian said, but after saying her name he noticed Alfred looked pale

"Pennyworth? Are you feeling ill? Do I need to inform father?" Damian asked

"No no, I'm quite alright, it's just, I... used to know someone with that name, so I was suprised to hear it. That's all." Alfred replied, but he still looked pale

"If you say so. I'm going to head to my room and work on schoolwork before it's time for patrol" Damian said, and he was gone without another word

Alfred's POV:

'Calm yourself Alfred. It's a normal name that anyone could have, besides, it's been 20 years. Even if it was her she wouldn't be part of the young masters class. Still... I should inform Master Bruce, incase he mentions this classmate' Alfred thinks to himself before heading to the batcave.

There he finds both Bruce and Tim, working on the computer, searching for sightings of criminal activity, recently rumors of a new villain with unknown powers had started to arise, so it was the batman's job to keep Gotham safe

"Ahem, apologies for interrupting, but I need to borrow Master Bruce for a moment" Alfred says

"Did something happen Alfred?" Bruce asks

"No, not necessarily, it's nothing serious but we need to talk" Alfred replies

Bruce gets up and follows Alfred out of the room

"What is it Alfred? You look like you've seen a ghost." Bruce states

"Apologies Sir, as I said, it's nothing serious, however Damian informed me of a new classmate at school today" Alfred starts

"In the middle of the year?" Bruce comments

"That's what I said, however that isn't the point, I simply wanted to let you know before hand, incase the young master mentions this classmate infront of you.." Alfred pauses

"That's it? Why would you need to inform me of that" Bruce asks confused

"Well you see. He said that her name was... Y/n" Alfred states, and Bruce becomes just as pale as he is

"I see.... did Damian tell you anything else about this.... classmate?" Bruce asks

"No, he did not. But simply stated he'd keep an eye out for anything suspicious." Alfred said

"I understand." Bruce said with a deep sigh

"Are you alright Master Bruce? I know it's been a long time but-"

"I'm fine Alfred. I just... I'm fine. I need to head back to work now, we still don't know what this new villain is capable of, or what they're after." Bruce says, turning away

"Alright sir, if you insist. Please take care of yourself."

Alfred says, but he knows how Bruce is

The patrol went on as normal, and so did school. Nothing particularly interesting happened it was a week like any other, Damian and y/n would work on schoolwork together during breaks, since y/n joined late she had a lot of work to catch up on but she didn't have much trouble and Damian helped her when she did. The two had even become friends, turns out they had a lot in common, and some classmates tried to joke about how they were like siblings, but the two didn't mind. The jokes did make Damian aware of how... familiar y/n looked. He pondered the idea of her being a child from a one night stand, but the timelines didn't match up so he brushed the thought away, thinking it was a coincidence that she looked so much like Bruce. But nothing out of the ordinary happened of note, not until one fateful patrol where Damian made a discovery

Y/n POV:

Y/n didn't know where to go after waking up again, it was clear so many things have changed, and her dad taught her well. She needed more information before she made any decisions.

Unfortunately this ment she had no place to stay. After all, she couldn't go to an orphanage, she wasn't an orphan and she didn't have any documents or a story on where she came from. She knew better than to go to the police, what would she even say to them? So here she was. Sitting under a bridge hoping she won't get sick. But she was strong, she'd do what she'd have to in order to understand the situation better. Even if that means sleeping under a bridge like a troll, even if it means only eating the food provided by the school, even if it means-

"Hello there. Are you alright?" A voice asked making her jump

She turns to see, some sort of vigilante. She had heard in passing about how her dad Batman wasn't the only vigilante in Gotham anymore, so she figured it was one of them

"Oh um, I'm alright" she replied, she hadn't planned to meet any of them, she knew she might meet batman, which she kind of hoped for because then she could get some answers, but this was new territory this was- wait a minute why does he kind of look like Damian?

"Are you sure? Your sitting underneath a bridge at night, kids shouldn't be out here like this you could get hurt. Or worse. Why aren't you with your parents?" The vigilante (Damian) said, after recognizing his classmate, assessing the situation

"It's... complicated" y/n replies, before wondering how much she should tell him "I... can't really talk about it, but I can't go back home.. not yet at least, and I don't have anywhere else to go, so I've just been here" she states, hoping she didn't say to much

The vigilante just stays there for a moment, not saying anything, and she wonders if she said to much or if he thinks she's a criminal

"I see. In any case, you shouldn't be out here alone, the streets of Gotham aren't safe, however if you insist on staying out here may I suggest somewhere that isn't so easily spotted? You wouldn't want to be attacked. I know a few places that are safer than.. this" The vigilante says offering a hand

"Oh, uhm" y/n thinks for a moment, weighing her options "I'll take you up on that offer, it's not great down here" y/n replies, taking his hand

The two go to a more remote, slightly cleaner area

"Here we are, even if it's temporary this would be a better place for a shelter than where you were before. I don't know what's going on, but if you need assistance, im willing to help" the vigilante replies

"Thank you, you've really been more than enough help and I appreciate it a lot. If I need anything il let you know....."

"... Robin. My name is Robin." Robin says, noticing her pause

"Robin... thank you for the help, good luck with the rest of your patrol" y/n says

"Of course, you be careful now, always keep an eye out." Robin says, before leaving

'Phew.... he's gone. That was definitely him, and he definitely recognized me. Now what. He didn't say anything so they're definitely still doing the secret identity thing. I guess I'll just have to play it cool and hope he doesn't say anything at school. If any of the teachers find out I'm definitely gonna get investigated and then my whole plan will be thrown out the window.' Y/n thinks to herself 'Maybe this is a good thing, if he's Robin, it's likely that dad's still Batman too, which means I might run into him. What if he doesn't recognized me? What if he does recognize me?? What if- what if he didn't miss me.... no, no! This is dad, of course he missed me but it's been... so long... what do I do if he doesn't want me back...' y/n starts to worry about before she falls to the floor and starts to cry

Which, unbeknownst to her, Damian saw, he doesn't know why she's crying or why it makes him feel so... protective but he knows somethings up, so he goes off and reports what he knows to Batman

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aaaaand cliffhanger! Mwahahahaha

I would have kept going, and I know exactly what's coming next, but I've been typing for awhile and I have no idea how long this post is, and I don't want it to be too long

So I'm stopping it there,

This wasn't supposed to be this much but my creative brain decided to run with this idea, so there's gonna be a part 2 soon

Also I've decided to call this au

Batman Dead Daughter Au

Because.... idk what else to call it and if I'm gonna make a part 2 and potentially more depending on how this goes, I'm gonna need something to refer to it with.

As I said before, I'm extremely new to the batman stuff

Pretty much all of my knowledge comes from youtube and tumblr, so bare with me if things are out of character

I've also never written fanfiction before, it's always just been in my head, so the writing is probably a bit funny

Yes I'm a writer in the making but I haven't actually gotten to the writing part

And fanfiction is a bit different

Hope yall like the concept tho

Again, feel free to write your own version of this if you want to, just tag me so I can read it too lol

[mattheosdior]

K.˚୨୧⋆｡˚

mattheo riddle x fem!reader

word count : 1,1k

warnings : mentions of fighting, but mostly fluff.

summary : your boyfriend takes you on a dinner date that leads up to a cozy night in with him.

a/n : kinda nervous, this is my first time posting my writing on this app (and writing in second pov). so if any mistakes are made blame my inability to write this way…? also, this is a little inspired by ‘K.’ by cigarettes after sex, and a mix of my own ideas w/ minor plot. enjoy!

it wasn’t a rare occurrence that your boyfriend, who gave you the ultimate princess treatment, to take you out. him taking you on dates and spending quality time with you was basically his love language—on top of his physical touch addiction, which he likes to deny, deny, and deny.

even now, as you sit across from the dark, curly-haired boy, who is dressed in a sleek black tuxedo, with a crispy white blouse peeking underneath. his onyx eyes couldn’t peel themselves away from you throughout the wonderful dinner you’ve had together.

the conversations that came easy and switched even easier, the warmth of hearing his laughter throughout the fancy restaurant when you landed a joke had your heart soaring inside of your rib cage.

despite his hands being nowhere near you, his presence was enough to feel like he was touching you. your soul. underneath his reputation that he upheld from his father’s last name at hogwarts, and the walls he builds with everyone else, there was a precious boy.

the one he allows you to see.

as you both wait for the waitress and check to arrive, he switches the topic smoothly. “so, do you have anywhere else in mind you want to go for this date night? or are you ready to head back?” his tender eyes gradually travel over your appearance.

the makeup you had made him wait extra minutes for, your hair which was neatly done and resting around your shoulders, the silky, black dress that clung effortlessly to your figure—and had a small slit on its left side, exposing some of your thigh and leg.

you gnawed on the skin inside of your cheek, laying your options out on the table. there weren’t many shops open this late. And not only were you two dressed up—but it would be silly to go anywhere else in what you’re wearing. you two would be out of place, even if you wanted to go grab a sweet butterbeer from the three broomsticks.

you knew mattheo wouldn’t care about anyone else’s opinion, and which eyes were on the two of you if you did decide that you wanted to go to the three broomsticks. i mean he was used to being mixed into rumors that made zero sense half of the time. surely he could handle any amount of attention.

still, you settled on replying with a simple, “no…?” your tone gave away hesitation, which only caused his eyebrow to lift. “no,” you repeated, this time clearer. “it’s late and we have early classes tomorrow.”

“so?” he decided to push, keeping his mischievous eyes that had the burning candle flame in them on you.

it wasn’t news to you that trouble followed your boyfriend everywhere he went. it was attached to him no matter how far he ran. hell, he’d even go as far as chasing it himself, looking it straight into its eyes, willingly.

finding him in heated fights, and the long days of detention that followed for the consequences of his actions. sometimes he didn’t have to use his fists to land himself inside detention—he’d manage to do that by skipping and ditching periods whenever it suited him.

“so,” you dragged out the single word, attempting to get him on board with you. “i’d rather spend the rest of the night with you. in your dorm.” his brows rose slowly, and his eyes gleamed with amusement on that offer alone.

you knew you had him.

“and suddenly, that sounds like the best idea you’ve had in a very long time, sweetheart.” his tone was smooth, silky, low.

and that’s exactly what happened when you both stepped inside his dorm. with flickering candles keeping the surrounding dark at bay—the gentle flames casting shadows over his ‘artwork’ you had continued to tease him about. the sketches he spilled his thoughts, words, and his emotions into, were scattered on his walls. all telling you different stories within the parchment paper and the black chalk he used.

to the deep, glistening waters of the black lake through the two sets of windows that divided the dorm and murky waters with panels of glass. you knew you were safe. as soon as that cigarette was lit and in between his lips, and finding yourself tangled in messy sheets with him, there was nothing that could divide the two of you.

not only were you wrapped in his familiar cologne but you were wrapped in his sweet warmth. his arm had you tucked into the side of his bare torso, gently running his fingers through your hair as your head lays on his chest. your fingers always found themselves occupied on the scars etched across his olive skin, tracing them with your fingertips, mindlessly.

“i think you have a weird obsession with my scars.” his feather-light voice had your fingers pausing their soft movements on one of his scars. “i mean seriously, they’re nothing special.” he shifted a bit, stubbing out his cigarette in an ashtray on his nightstand, and blowing out the rest of the gray smoke from his lips.

nothing special.

they were all special. you knew that. problem was he didn’t. and it drove you insane.

“you might hate them,” you said softly, moving your head upward so you could meet his eyes, which only had raw love and security in them because he knew your answer remained the same. “but I don’t,” you added, and you could’ve sworn you heard his heart skip a beat from where your ear was pressed against his chest.

his eyes softened, swirling with the flames from the candles on his nightstand. “you’re impossible,” he said quietly, his fingers going from your hair to the edges of your jawline, the pads of his fingertips tracing your skin until he got to your chin. “you’re too perfect.” his eyes darted all over your face, tracing your skin with his eyes.

“no one is perfect,” you pointed out, slowly pushing yourself up from the plush sheets that tried their hardest to not let you go, moving closer to him until your lips brushed. “everyone has scars. whether they’re hidden or shown. yours just so happen to be above reach—to touch, to see, to love,” you whispered on his now slightly parted lips.

his eyes drifted from your vulnerable pair of eyes down to your pink, perfectly sculpted lips. “then show me your scars,” he whispered as he gradually met your eyes through his dark, thick, and long eyelashes, putting his puppy dog eyes on full display for you. “because i want to touch, see, and love them too.”

© mattheosdior 2025. Please don’t copy, translate, or steal my work.

[dearestval]

𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓 — ayato

notes: no specific gender, reader is implied to be part of inazuma nobility, mainly ayato's pov you get so much inner monologue here he really does think a lot, I don't really know how to end fics so if you have a complaint I don't want to hear it lol, also did I go back to edit and revise this? no don’t tell my students

happy birthday to my love, my dearest, ayato

Ayato likes to say that he’s above gossiping. That he doesn’t concern himself with any rumors swirling amongst the Inazuman nobility. After all, most of it is hearsay anyways— why indulge in it? He holds a bit of pride in himself knowing he would never fall victim to baseless rumors and doesn’t get swept away like the other nobles around him.

Of course, those closest to him don’t miss the way he seems to shift in his seat whenever he hears someone in his vicinity gossiping. He’s subtle about it too– but to the trained eye it's obvious how he slightly leans back in his chair to catch the latest chatter from the ladies sitting at the table behind him. Or how he’ll quietly thumb at the pages of a ledger to not attract attention to the two businessmen nearby as they discuss the recent hearsay. All to keep appearances up.

Which makes it all the more amusing for those around Ayato to witness him parading from person to person, asking what they know about this latest rumor that came to his attention.

Because this time, the rumors are about you. Specifically, that you are getting engaged to some noble. Ayato doesn’t have any more information about this– who this noble is, the circumstances of the engagement, or even if the engagement is true to begin with. All he knows is that your name is tied to it.

This is ridiculous, Ayato thinks to himself as he finally gives up the interrogations, retreating to his study to overthink things. As your friend, your best friend, he would have known if you were in a relationship, right? Of course, now that he thinks about it, the two of you have never seriously broached the topic of love or anything of that matter. So maybe there was cause for you to be privy on such a detail of your life. Or perhaps this was an arranged marriage type of engagement and was suddenly sprung upon you. There were still some families in Inazuma that still employed these practices, though he would have never guessed your family would be one of them. Still, as much as Ayato would love to deny it, it’s not entirely impossible for you to be engaged. And that’s clearly a problem– though Ayato isn’t exactly sure why.

Ayato slumps further into his chair, a sight unbecoming of someone of his status, but even he is human and can’t help it. The more he thinks about it, the more he finds himself confused by these swirling emotions inside him. Why would it even matter to him if you were engaged? You would probably still find the time to bother him any time you had a single thought like you always did. He doubts that you would cease to bother him to try out a new food vendor that you spotted while taking a stroll through Inazuma City. You would be the same person and do the same things. He was your best friend, and you were his. Nothing would change at all.

There's a pause in his mind for a moment as that thought lingered. The thought of nothing changing between the two of you causes him to feel unpleasant. Again, he’s not sure why. That should be a good thing. To always remain friends for the rest of your lives. Just friends. And nothing more.

Finally, his head catches up to his heart.

Ayato is hopelessly in love with you.

He manages to scramble up out of his slump as this revelation comes to light, his heart beating slightly faster now. 

It seems almost absurd to him that he’s only realizing now the extent his feelings go for you but in his defense, feelings can be hard to navigate. So he allows himself some leeway. He knows that he’s liked you for a long time now– but he can’t be sure when it shifted from platonic to romantic. He begins combing through his memories, searching for the one particular moment that would showcase when he started seeing you in a different light. But as he does so, he finds his cheeks getting warmer with each passing thought of you.

Ayato buries his face into his hands, a chuckle of disbelief slipping from his lips. Perhaps the answer is simpler than that. If he had to guess, you probably found your way into his heart from the very beginning.

The pieces in front of him start to make sense. How else could he have explained the way his brain would short-circuit for a moment whenever you walked into a room. He would nearly fumble his words when seeing you from the corner of his eye, no matter how important the person he was talking to was. Before his epiphany, Ayato would chalk that up to you being distracting. In reality, all you had done was enter his vision and he would find his thoughts scrambled.

The more Ayato thinks about his newfound feelings for you, the clearer things become for him. There’s a lot to love about you. On the surface, you’re the type of person that anyone could easily fall for. But there’s more to you for him. He’s known you since you were both children, and you’ve consistently stood by his side. When he took over as the head of his clan and it seemed like everything was stacked against his favor, you offered him unconditional support. In the eyes of Inazuma, he’s revered as either the Yashiro Commissioner or Head of the Kamisato Clan. Yet around you, he’s just Ayato. He can let his shoulders slump a bit, foregoing the perfect posture he was taught to have at all times.

To Ayato, it just made sense that the two of you would end up together. There’s no one that gets him more than you do and vice versa. Which is why hearing about your supposed engagement feels like a slap in the face to him. 

He honestly might start spiraling— but three brief knocks on his door snaps him from his thoughts.

“Come in,” he calls out, grateful at the mere thought of a distraction from his turmoil.

But when you pop your head through the door, he can’t tell whether it’s a blessing or a curse. Ayato stands from his seat, welcoming you in as his eyes take in every detail of you. Now that Ayato’s become aware of how he feels for you, it feels like all of his senses are in overdrive.

“Hey, hope I’m not bothering you!” You skip into his study, and he has to hope to the Archons he doesn’t keel over from how cute he thinks you are. Fortunately, he manages to keep his cool and smiles back at you, acting as if there wasn’t a maelstrom going on in his head.

“Would it make a difference if I said you were?”

You could never be a bother to Ayato. Even if he had a mountain of paperwork to go through, he’d set his time aside just for you– which now that he thinks about it is another obvious sign that he’s liked you.

“I suppose it wouldn’t,” you hum as you find your way towards him.

Ayato wastes no time asking the question that’s been plaguing him today.

“So… should I be congratulating you right about now?” he asks, his gaze falling to your hands. With the way they were positioned, he can’t tell if there’s a ring on your finger or not.

“Hm? For what– OH,” you laugh, and as it reaches Ayato’s ears he smiles at how lovely it sounds to him. It’s one he’s heard millions of times but now he can’t help but think that even the birds would envy how melodic your laugh is.

“No no no,” you say, shaking your head, “those rumors are definitely not true. I mean, my family is looking to make some kind of partnership with another clan, but they’re doing so without the need of a marriage.”

A wave of relief washes over Ayato. It wasn’t true. Admittedly, he probably should have already assumed that from the start. But today he finds that any sort of rationality has escaped him. 

“Don’t tell me you actually fell for them,” you tease, your lips curling into a knowing smile.

Ayato scoffs at you, though deep down he knows he’s not fooling anyone, least of all you.

“Of course not, who do you take me for–”

“Oh my Archons,” your laughter fills the air once more, “you totally thought they were true, don’t lie!”

Because yes, who would have thought that Ayato, the very man who likes to say he’s above gossiping, would fall victim to baseless rumors.

But what would happen if the rumors were true? Would Ayato be able to put on a fake smile for you and keep his feelings at bay? He looks at you, now distracted by the view of camellias outside his study, and his gaze softens.

He calls out your name softly, and there’s a small part of him that wishes you don’t hear him.

You turn towards him, tilting your head ever so slightly as you look up at him. It makes his heart beat all the more faster. You’re not deliberately trying to look endearing in front of him, you just are. And it drives him crazy.

“What? Finally going to admit that you fell for the rumors?”

“Fine, fine,” Ayato relents, “Perhaps I was curious about the veracity of those rumors.”

Ayato really should keep his mouth shut like he always does. But his mouth moves faster than his brain can process it.

“And I’m incredibly glad they’re not.” His words are soft spoken, killing the previously lighthearted atmosphere that you brought in As the silence settles in the room, it’s clear the ambience has shifted.

He brings his hand up to softly caress your cheek, and it feels so right to him.

“God, you don’t really understand the effect you have on me, do you?” his voice is barely above a whisper. He takes in every expression you make– the surprise, the confusion, all of it.

“Did you know,” he continues, “that everytime I’m engaged in an important conversation, I pray to Celestia that you don’t enter my line of sight because the moment you do all of my thoughts go to you.”

He finds himself unable to stop, and truthfully, he doesn’t want to.

“You occupy my mind constantly– I don’t think there’s a day that goes by where I’m not thinking about you,” he pauses, another small realization dawning on him, “perhaps the many times I’ve been called out for being lost in deep thought were moments where you monopolized the entirety of my attention.”

It took him too long to realize he loved you– he’s not going to waste any more time on telling you.

“So please tell me,” Ayato sighs, resting his forehead on yours, “tell me I’m not the only one who’s harbored feelings in this friendship.”

You’re stunned into silence.

Ayato doesn’t know what to make of it. He knows you like the back of his hand but right now he doesn’t even know how to read your expression. You’re shocked for sure– he knows that much.

It would be best for him to wait for some response from you, to let you process this new revelation.

But once again he throws all thought and rationality out the window.

“What about one percent?” he asks, a little bit too desperate for his liking.

“Because,” he continues, a light chuckle spilling from his lips, “even if your heart is only one percent in my favor, then I will hold onto that for all that I have.”

That was a lie. Even if you didn’t have any inkling of fondness for him back, he would be okay with that. He would wait forever for you, even if that day never comes. When he looks at you, he can see your gaze shift, the confusion slowly dissipating from your expression. Now before him he can see the soft look you have in your eyes, the same one that you always held for him.

“It’s definitely more than one percent…” you softly murmur.

Suddenly, Ayato understands all of the cheesy metaphors people use when they talk about love. His heart is doing backflips, he can hear every single bird singing in his ears, and there are far too many butterflies in his stomach. There’s a soft conviction in your words, it makes him wonder if you’ve also had these feelings for as long as him but he’s been too oblivious to notice.

Though that question can be answered at a later time.

For now, and hopefully forever, he has you.

[mymindcreatedthis]

Loser strips with Arsenal part 1 of 2 18+

Y/n x Leah Williamson x Steph Catley x Katie McCabe x Alessia Russo x Lia Walti x Frida Maanum x Lotte Wubben-Moy x Beth Mead

Warning: Smut smut smut! Sexual tasks and sexual content!

Word count: 5.5k

*Y/n's pov*

It was the 3rd day of camp. We had the next two days off. I was the new girl on the team, I was hanging out in my room. I was scrolling through Netflix trying to figure out what to watch.

My phone goes off, I grab my phone and check it. I see that I got a new text massage from Leah.

Leah: Hey Y/n. Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?

Me: No I'm free all day, What's up?

Leah: I was gonna do a movie night with some of the girls. Me and Katie were gonna do it in our room. Did you wanna join us?

Me: Sure! I'm down for a movie night. What time should I come over.

Leah: Sweet. Let's shoot for 4pm. We can also do a late lunch/ early dinner.

Me: Okay, sounds good. See you guys at 4 pm.

I swipe up and turn off my phone. I look at the time, it was currently 2 pm. I grab new clothes and go into the bathroom, I shower and get cleaned up. Once I'm done in the shower I turn it off, I get dried off and get dressed.

I lay back in bed, I still had time to kill. I put on a random movie until 4 pm rolls around.

*Leah's pov*

I smirk, I turn off my phone and look over at Katie. "She's in."

Katie smirks. "Perfect, I'll tell the girls."

I smile and nod, little did Y/n know that we had a plan in mind. See we have a special tradition Y/n doesn't know about. We play a special game with the Rookie and give them a nice warm welcome.

Katie makes a group chat with her, me, Lotte, Lia, Alessia, Steph, Beth and Frida. I grab my phone and check it as it begins to blow up.

Katie: Y/n said yes. We are on with our plan, you know the rules. We are playing loser strips. Let's give Y/n a warm welcome. After the game you guys can stay in mine and Leah's for the night.

Steph: Yes Please!

Alessia: I've been waiting to play this with you.

Frida: There's a rumor going around that Y/n has a dick.

Beth: She does, I can 100% confirm that she does.

Lotte: Fuck I want to feel her inside me so bad.

Lia: Beth you are such a tease. Stop teasing us.

Beth: I'm just saying Frida mentioned the rumor. All I'll say is that she has amazing dick game.

Me: Alright girls that's enough, save it for the game.

Katie: She'll be here soon, we told her 4 pm. It's not 3:30, we'll see you guys soon.

I swipe up and turn off my phone. Me and Katie McCabe had originally started this tradition. When Katie first joined Arsenal I gave her the same welcoming. I strapped her and put her in her place after she tried proofing to me that she was a Dom.

Me and Katie welcomed both Alessia and Beth the same way. So on and so forth, All the girls on the team know that tradition because we've all done it with them. The only ones who didn't know about it are the coaches and trainers.

The girls come to our room at 3:50 pm. Now we are just waiting on Y/n to get here.

*Y/n's Pov*

3:50 pm rolls around. I put my shoes on, I grab my key card and phone. I turn off the tv and head to Leah's and Katie's room. It was now 3:55 pm, I know on the door. Leah opens the door, she smiles and lets me in.

I close the door behind me and lock it. The girls smile and greet me, I smile and greet them back. I take off my shoes and set them off to the side with the others. I notice Leah's ass and how good it looked in her shorts.

Leah turns to me, she sees me looking. She smirks and gives her ass a little shake. I bite my lip and check out her ass. The girls clear their throats and giggle, I blush darkly.

We order food to the room and eat our late lunch/ early dinner. We turn on tv and put on a random movie. I notice Leah look at the other girls, they smirk and nod at each other. Leah grabs the remote and turns off the tv.

"Do you guys want to play a game?" Katie asks.

We all agree. Beth, Frida and Lia giggle and whisper to each other. "So should we play this game Y/n? Girls you all want to play right?" Katie asks.

"Oh Yeah." They all say in sync.

I get a bit nervous and chuckle. "Um what game did you guys have in mind?" I ask.

"You know the game Loser strips?" Katie asks eyeing me a bit.

"N-No. what is it?" I ask stuttering a bit.

"Well we will all play the game whoever loses has to take off a piece of clothing." Leah says explaining a bit.

Leah smirks as the others giggle. Katie players with her hair. "Come on Y/n it'll be fun." Katie says.

"You won't regret it." Alessia says.

"I don't know girls..... I thought we were doing a movie night." I say.

Steph and Lia were already staring at my crotch and undressing me with their eyes. I blush darkly and adjust my shorts as my bulge becomes visible and the girls notice it.

"Come on Y/n, it'll be fun." Lia says.

I sigh and weigh my options. "Okay, where do you guys want to play the game?" I ask.

"We can play on the floor and on the beds there's plenty of room to play." Katie says.

I nod. "Alessia how should we start?" Frida asks getting straight to the point.

Alessia smirks and looks at me. "Last one to touch Y/n bulge loses their shirt." Alessia says.

"Woah wait, are you girls sure about this?" I ask.

"Yes Y/n we are sure." They all say.

Katie smirks and reaches down and places her hand on my dick over my shorts. She bites her lip. "Mmm you sure are packing." Katie says.

I blush at her comment, Leah giggles and does the same thing getting a feel in. "Mmm fuck babe, you're huge." Leah says.

"T-Thanks." I say stuttering a bit.

Alessia pushes Lia out of the way and grabs my dick over my shorts, I moan. "Mmm if you fuck any of us daddy I want this dick first." She says.

I blush darkly and nod. "S-Sure, N-No promises."

Alessia giggles and kisses my cheek. Lotte was the next one to touch my dick over my shorts. "Mmm I wanna feel you deep inside me." Lotte says.

The girls continue to take turns rubbing and touching my bulge over my shorts. Steph grab my dick over my shorts then Lia, then Frida. Beth was the last one to touch my bulge over the shorts.

Lia looks at Beth and smirks. "Looks like you lost Mead. Lost that shirt."

Beth blushes, we whistle and cheer as Beth takes off her shirt and tosses it off to the side. "S-Shut up." Beth says stuttering and blushing darkly.

Beth your turn to pick the next task." Lia says.

Beth nods and looks around the room. She looks at Katie and smirks. "Last one to kiss Katie's v line loses their shorts." Beth says.

Katie smiles and blushes a bit. Katie lifts her shirt up a bit and lowers her shorts and panties exposing her V line. We all bite our lips and get on our knees and kneel in front of Katie.

Beth is the first one to kiss Katie's v line. Katie bites her lip and runs her fingers through Beth's hair, Katie quietly moans as Beth continues to kiss her v line. Next up is Leah, Leah decides to spice it up and sucks on her v line leaving hickys.

"Mmm fuck." Katie moans.

Leah smirks and kisses Katie's pussy over her shorts. Katie moans as Leah does this. Next up is Me, I kiss her v line and rub Katie's clothed pussy. Katie gasps and moans as I do this.

"Oh fuck..Fucking hell Y/n." Katie moans.

I suck on her v line adding more hickys. I lick her v line. I smirk against her skin, I continue to rub her clothed pussy. I smirk as I feel her juices through her shorts and on my fingers. I give her v line one last kiss.

Next up is Steph, then the Lotte, the Frida, the Lia, Alessia was the last one to kiss Katie's v line.

"Looks like you lost Alessia. Lose those shorts baby." Katie says.

Alessia blushes darkly as she takes her shorts off and tosses them off to the side. "Alessia your turn to pick the next task." Katie says.

Alessia nods and looks around the room. Alessia looks at Leah and smirks. "Last one to shove their face in Leah's tits loses their top and bra." Alessia says.

Katie smirks and taps my ass. "Doesn't that sound like fun Y/n? Why don't you go first and get those tits ready for us."

Leah smirks, she takes off her shirt and sports bra and sets them to the side and sits on the bed. Leah smirks and motions me over with her finger seductively, I bite my lip and walk over to her, I bite my lip. This didn't feel real this felt like a dream.

"Come on baby, shove your face in my tits." Leah says seductively.

I do as she says and shove my face in her tits Leah moans and throws her head back. "Mmm fuck Y/n." Leah moans.

I stop and kiss her boobs. Next up is Katie, Katie wastes no time and immediately doves in, Leah moans as Katie shoves her face in her tits.

"Mmm fuck." Leah moans in pleasure.

Next up is Alessia, then Steph, then Beth, the Lotte, then Frida. Lia was the last one to shove her face in Leah's tits.

"Lose that shirt and bra baby girl." Leah says.

Lia blushes darkly, she takes off her shirt and bra and tosses them off to the side. We whistle and cheer Lia blushes darkly. "S-Shut up." Lia stutters.

I giggle. "Lia your turn to pick the next task." Leah says.

Lia nods and looks around the room. "Last two to spank Alessia's ass loses clothing of Alessia's choice." Lia says.

Alessia blushes darkly at the task. Leah smiles, she grabs Alessia and bends her over her leg. Katie giggles and holds me back. "Hey no fair. Let me go, this is cheating!" I say.

The girls take turns spanking Alessia's ass. Alessia moans as the girls take turns spanking her ass. Katie and I are the last ones to spank Alessia's ass.

Alessia smirks. "Looks like you two lost. Lose your shorts and shirt."

Katie and I smile, we take off our shirts and shorts and toss them off to the side. "Y/n how about you pick the next task." Katie says.

I nod and look around the room. I look at Beth and smirk. "Last one to slip their hand in Beth's shorts and panties and tease her clit loses their shorts." I say.

Beth blushes darkly as I say this. I wrap my arms around her and hold her from behind. I slip my hand in her shorts and panties and tease her folds with my fingers.

Beth moans as I do this and leans back against my touch. "Mmm fuck." Beth moans in pleasure.

I smirk, I slip in a finger and slowly finger her. Beth gasps and moans as I do this. I finger her for a couple of minutes then take my fingers out of her pussy.

I take my hand out of her shorts and panties. "Open your mouth slut." I say.

Beth does as I say and immediately opens her mouth. "Lick and suck your juices off my fingers slut." I say.

Beth licks and sucks my juices off her fingers. She moans as she tastes herself on my fingers. Next up is Alessia, I hold Beth from behind as Alessia slips her hand in Beth's shorts and panties and teases her clit.

"Fuck Lessi." Beth cutely moans.

I giggle and kiss her neck, next up is Steph, then Lia, then Lotte. Frida is the last one, Beth giggles. "Looks like you lost Frida. Lose them shorts baby." Beth says.

Frida blushes and takes off her shorts and tosses them off to the side. "Frida your turn to pick the next task." Beth says.

Frida nods, she looks at Alessia and smirks. "Last two to lick Alessia's clit loses their shorts and shirt." Frida says.

Alessia blushes a bit, she smirks and takes off her shirts and panties and lays on one of the beds. I go first, I lick her folds. Alessia gasps and moans and rubs her fingers through my hair as I lick her clit.

"Mmm fuck." Alessia moans.

I smirk and begin eating her out, Alessia gasps and moans as I do this. The girls giggle, I eat out Alessia for another 2 minutes then stop. Next up is Lia, Lia dives in and immediately lick Lessi's clit. Alessia moans, her legs shake in pleasure as Lia licks her clit.

Lia kisses her pussy and then stops. Next up is Frida, Alessia moans and slowly grinds against Frida's face as Frida licks her clit. Alessia moans and grips the sheets. "F-Fuck." Alessia moans. Frida smirks, she licks her clit one last time.

Next up is Beth, then Katie, and then Steph. Lotte and Leah are the last two to lick Alessia's clit. "You two lost. Go head and lose those shirts and shorts." Alessia pants out.

"Leah your turn to pick the next task baby." Alessia says.

Leah nods and thinks for a moment. "Last one to kiss my abs loses their shorts." Leah says.

Katie gets on her knees, Leah smirks and takes off her shirt. Katie is the first one to kiss Leah's abs. Then me, then Frida, then Alessia, then Beth, then Lia. Steph was the last one to kiss Leah's abs.

Leah smiles and makes out with Steph. Story is shocked at first but then starts kissing back. Leah slips off Steph's shirt and tosses it off to the side as they make out.

Leah breaks the kiss and smiles. "Your turn to pick the next task baby." Leah says.

Steph smiles and blushes, Steph thinks for a moment. "Last one to massage Beth's tits loses their shirt and bra." Steph says.

Beth smirks. "I'll make it even better for you guys." Beth says. She takes off her shirt and bra, we whistle and cheer as we check out her tits. Beth blushes and smirks.

I get hard and massage Beth's tits from behind. Beth moans as I massage her tits, Beth giggles. "Mmm you're really hard baby. You must really be enjoying this." Beth says.

Beth presses her ass against my dick and slowly grinds against me as I continue to massage her tits. "F-Fuck." I moan as Beth slowly grinds against my dick.

I moan and finish massaging her tits. next up is Leah, then Katie, then Steph, then Alessia, then Frida, Lia is the last one to massage Beth's tits.

Beth giggles. "Looks like you lost Walti. Lost that shirt and bra." Me and Beth say.

Lia blushes darkly and nods. Lia takes off her shirt and bra and tosses them off to the side. "Your turn to pick the next task Walti." Beth says.

Lia nods. "Last two to rub my pussy over my panties loses 2 pieces of clothing of my choice." Lia says.

We agree, Lia takes off her shorts and sets them off to the side. Lia bits her lip and moans as Katie rubs her pussy over her panties.

"Mmm you're so wet love." Katie says.

Lia blushes. "S-Shut up." She cutely stutters.

Katie smirks as Lia's juices leak through her panties and onto her fingers. Next up is Leah, Leah smiles and swipes her finger up Lia's folds over her panties teasing her.

Lia gasps and moans as Leah does this. Next up is me, I smirk and kiss Lia and rub her clit and tease her folds over her panties. Lia moans in the kiss as I do this, I smile and break the kiss.

Next up is Beth, then Lotte. Steph and Frida were the last two to run Lia's clit over her panties.

Lia smirks. She looks at Frida and Steph. "Frida lose your shirt and bra." Lia says.

Frida blushes she takes off her shirt and bra and tosses them off to the side. Lia looks at Steph and smirks. "Steph lose your bra and shorts." Lia says.

Steph blushes darkly and takes off her bra and shorts. She was only in her panties now. Both Frida and Steph were only in their panties now.

"Steph pick the next task babe." Lia says.

"Last two to eat out Lotte loses a piece of clothing of Lottie's choice." Steph says.

Lotte giggles, she takes off her shorts and panties and lays on the bed and gets on all fours. I go first, I move behind Lotte on the bed I spread her ass cheeks and immediately start eating her out from behind. Lotte gasps and moans and grips the sheets as I continue to eat her out from behind.

"Oh f-fuck." Lotte moans. She pushes her ass back against my face as I continue to eat her out from behind. I smirk, I lick her ass hole and folds and kiss her folds and stop.

Next up is Steph. Lotte moans loudly in pleasure as Steph immediately dives in and starts going to town on Lottie's pussy. Next up is Katie, Katie slips in a finger and slowly fingers her ass as she eats her out.

Next up is Alessia, then Lia, then Frida. Leah and Beth were the last two to eat out Lotte. Lotte puts her panties back on. Lotte looks at Beth and Leah and smirks. "Leah lose your bra." Lotte says.

Leah smirks, she slips off her bra and tosses it off to the side. Lotte looks at Beth and smirks. "Beth takes off your shorts."

Beth slips off her shorts and tosses them off to the side. "Good girls." Lotte says. Beth and Leah blush and smirk.

"Leah pick the next task baby girl." Lotte says.

"Last one to eat Frida's ass loses their bra and panties or other two pieces of clothing of Frida's choice." Leah says.

I smirk and chime in. "First girl to lose all their clothes gets eaten out by 2 girls of their choice and gets fucked by me." I say. They giggle and nod.

Frida takes off her panties, she gets on the bed and gets on all fours. Leah is the first in to dive in and eat out Frida's ass. Next up is Lotte, then Beth, then Katie, then Steph, then me, then Alessia, Lia is the last one to eat Frida's ass.

"Lia you still got too many clothes." Frida says putting her panties back on. "Lose your shirt and shorts."

Lia blushes darkly and bites her lip, she takes off her shirt and shorts and tosses them off to the side. "Lia pick the next task babe." Friday says.

Lia nods. "Last one to ride Katie's strap on loses a piece of clothing of Katie's choice." Lia says.

Katie smirks she takes off her panties and slips on her 11 inch strap on. She lines it up and lays down on the bed, Leah straddles Katie's lap she pushes the tip in and slowly sinks down on it taking all 11 inches deep inside her. Leah moans in pleasure, she takes a moment to adjust to the size.

Leah moans and slowly slides up and down on Katie's strap. Kate bites her lip and watches as Leah slowly slides up and down on her 11 inch dildo. Leah moans and rides Katie's strap for 3 minutes and then gets off.

Next up is Frida, Frida moans loudly in pleasure as she rides Katie's strap on after 3 minutes and then gets off. Next up is Lia, I smirk and watch as they take turns riding Katie's strap on next up is Steph, then Beth, Then Lotte.

Katie looks at me and smirks. "Ride my strap baby."

I blush darkly, I straddle her lap. I put the tip in my ass and slowly sink down on the rubber dick. I moan in pleasure as I slowly slide up and down on Katie's dildo, my dick was throbbing.

Katie places her hands on my hips and helps me slide up and down on her dildo. I moan in pleasure, I ride her dildo for 3 minutes and then slowly slide off.

Alessia was the last one to ride Katie's dildo. Katie smirks. "Lose that shirt baby." Katie says.

Alessia blushes a bit. She takes off her shirt and tosses it off to the side. I smile and wrap my arms around Alessia's waist and hold her from behind. I smile and kiss her neck and shoulder and shoulder.

Alessia smiles and leans back against me. She smiles and quietly moans as I kiss her neck. "Mmm you're so beautiful." I say.

Alessia smiles. "Thank you love, so are you." Alessia says.

I hold her from behind and kiss her shoulder. "Your turn to pick the next task babe." I say.

Alessia nods and looks around the room. "Last one to grind and get off on Lia's thigh loses their underwear or bra. Lia's choice." Alessia says.

Lia smirks. She takes off her panties and sets them off to the side and sits on the bed. “Do you guys keep your panties and boxers on? Or are you guys taking them off?" Lia asks.

Alessia smirks. "Take them off."

We blush and take off our panties and boxers. Alessia sits on Lia's leg. Lia smirks as she feels Lessi's juices on her thigh. Alessia bites her lip and slowly grinds against Lia's thigh and moans in pleasure. Lia bites her lip.

"Mm fuck baby. You're soaking wet." Lia says.

"S-Shut up." Alessia cutely stutters she moans and grinds against Lia's leg faster.

"There you go baby cum, cum all over my thigh." Lia says seductively.

Alessia moans and grinds against Lia's thigh faster. "Mmm fuck, I'm close." Alessia moans she roughly massages her tits and continues to grind against Lia's thigh.

"Let go slut. Let go and cum all over my thigh." Lia says seductively.

Alessia moans and continues to grind against Lia's thigh. After 5 more minutes Alessia moans loudly in pleasure, she and throws her head back and cums on Lia's thigh.

Lia smirks. "Good girl."

Alessia blushes and smiles, next up Is Steph. Steph moans as she slowly grinds Lia's thigh. Steph bites her lip and massages her tits. Katie had basically edged all of us with her strap so that's why all the girls are cumming within 5 minutes.

Lia smirks and bites her lip as she watches Steph grinds against her thigh. Steph massages her tits and grinds against Lia's thigh faster.

"G-Gah fuck feels so good." Steph moans.

Lia smiles. "Good girl, mmm you look so sexy grinding against my though." Lia says seductively.

After 5 more minutes Steph moans loudly in pleasure. "F-Fuck." Steph shouts in pleasure as she cums all over Lia's thigh.

Next up is Katie, then Beth, then Lotte, then Frida. I go next, I sit on Lia's thigh. Lia giggles. "Fuck baby, you're huge." Lia says.

"T-Thanks." I stutter.

Lia smirks, she bites her lip and watches me grind against her thigh. The girls moan and touch themselves as they watch me grind against Lia's thigh.

I moan and massage my tits roughly as I continue to grind against her thigh. Fuck I was throbbing and really needed a release. Lia smirks and bites her lip as my precum leaks out and drips onto her thigh.

"Cum daddy, bust your load all over my thigh." Lia says seductively.

I moan, I massage my tits and grinds against her thigh faster. I moan as I feel that familiar feeling in my balls. "Mmmm fuck, I'm close." I moan in pleasure after 5 more minutes I can't take it anymore.

I moan and cum like crazy. Cum spurts on Lia's thigh, cum shoots onto her abs, on her folds, and on her inner thigh. I moan as cum continues to ooze and spurt out. Lia bites her lip and giggles.

"That's it baby, let it out." Lia says.

I moan and come down from my high, the last of my cum oozing on Lia's thighs and on her folds and on the sheets. I moan, Lia smiles and kisses me. I smile against her lips and kiss back, I get off her thigh, Lia smirks and looks at Leah,

"Lose those panties baby." Lia says.

Leah blushes, she takes her panties off and tosses them off to the side. I look at Leah and smirk. "I meant what I said. The first one naked is gonna get eaten out by two girls of their choice and then fucked and Creampied by me." I say.

Leah blushes darkly. "C-Can I request Alessia and Katie to eat me out and have you fuck me and fill me up with your cum afterwards?" Leah cutely asks getting shy.

I smile and nod. "Of course."

Leah smiles and nods, she lays back on the bed and spreads her legs a bit. Alessia and Katie smirk and join Leah on the bed and lay between her legs.

*Leah's Pov*

I bite my lip as Katie and Alessia join me on the bed. I bite my lip and spread my legs giving them full access to my pussy. I moan and run my finger through Alessia's hair and grips the sheets as she kisses and sucks on my inner thighs and leaving hickys.

I moan and gasp as Katie spits on my pussy. Both her and Alessia begin licking my folds and eating me out. I moan loudly in pleasure, they look up and lock eyes with me as they eat me out.

"Mmmm fuck." I moan in pleasure.

Alessia and Katie continue to eat me out. Katie slips in a finger and slowly fingers me as she eats me out.

*Katie's Pov*

I slip in a finger and slowly finger Leah as me and Alessia eat her out. I feel Leah's legs slightly wrap around us. Leah's moans growing louder, I watch as her stomach begins to clench and flex at each movement of mine and Alessia's tongue, her chest rises and falls rapidly.

Leah moans loudly in pleasure. Leah shouts mine and Alessia's name. Leah breaks eye contact and throws her head back, her mouth wide open one fist gripping the sheets and the other fist gripping my hair. Leah cums all over mine and Lessi's face,

We let her use our mouths as she works through her orgasm and comes down from her high. Leah's legs shake in pleasure as we help her ride out her high.

Alessia and I lick and clean up her sticky mess, I slowly pull my fingers out of her, I lick and suck her juices off my fingers. Leah bites her lip and moans as she watched me lick and suck her juices off my fingers.

*Y/n's pov*

I smirk. "Alright ladies, thank you for getting her pussy ready for me." I say.

They blush and giggle. "You're welcome daddy." They both say.

I smile and kiss them both. They smile against my lips and kiss back. I smirk and tap their asses, they giggle and sit back down. I take off my shorts, shirt and boxers.

My dick springs out once it's freed from its confinement. Leah blushes darkly and checks out my dick. "Fuck daddy you're huge." Leah says.

The girls bite their lips as they also check out my length. I giggle and blush a bit at her comment. "Thank you baby girl." I say.

I look at Leah and smirk. "Get on all fours baby girl."

Leah blushes and smiles she does as I say and get on all fours. I join her on the bed and get behind her. "I'm gonna do you one better baby."

"Okay daddy." Leah says.

I grab her and lay back in reverse cowgirl. Her back was to my tits, I spread her legs a bit with mine. I tease her folds with my tip.

"Y-Y/n...Don't tease just put it in. Please baby I need you." Leah says begging.

I smirk and slowly slip my dick inside her. We both moan as she takes me deep inside her, I moan as her walls immediately clench around me.

"Mmm so tight and warm." I moan.

Leah giggles. "Tell me when to move baby." I say.

Leah nods and takes a moment to adjust to my size. She moans and leans back against me. "M-Move." She's says.

I place my hands in her hips, I spread her legs a bit more with mine and slowly thrust up into her pussy. "Mmm fuck, right there ugh just like that." Leah moans.

I moan and thrust up onto her faster. My balls slap against her skin as our moans fill the room. Fuck her pussy felt so good. She had amazing grip, her pussy felt like heaven. Mmm so wet and warm.

"Fuck baby, you're so tight and warm." I moan.

I their up into her faster and harder. Leah screams in pleasure and grips the sheets. I make her look at me and make out with her, we both moan as I continue to bottom out in her pussy.

We break the kiss, and rest our heads against each other's. "Feels so too. Don't you dare fucking stop, don't you dare stop. We don't stop until you bust your massive load inside me." Leah moans.

I smirk. "Yeah slut? You want my cum deep inside you?" I ask teasing her.

"Yes give it to me. Give it to me. I've been such a good girl." Leah says.

We both moan as I thrust into her faster and harder. "Fuck I'm going to squirt." Leah screams in pleasure.

I smirk, I slap and tease her clit. Leah moans and shudders as I do this. Leah moans in pleasure and squirts, I smirk as I feel some of her juices go on my thigh. She moans and squirts on the blankets and sheets.

We both moan as I continue to thrust up into her faster and harder. I moan as I feel myself getting closer to cumming. "L-Leah baby, I'm close." I moan.

"Me too. Don't stop, don't stop." Leah moans.

My balls slap against her skin as our moans fill the room. I rub her clit, with my thumb at a slightly fast pace.

My breathing gets heavier letting Leah know what i was close to cumming.

"Yes, cum in me. Cum in me." Leah moans.

I moan loudly in pleasure as I feel my balls tighten.

*Leah's 1st Creampie*

I can't take it anymore, I thrust up into her and bust my load deep inside her pussy. Leah moans and cums all over my dick, we both moan as cum oozes and spurts inside her painting her walls white.

I slowly thrust up into her. I help Leah ride out her high, I slowly thrust up into her the last of my cum oozes and spurts inside her.

I moan and slowly pull out, my dick falls limp. Cum immediately pours out of her. Cum coats her folds, and drips onto the blankets and sheets.

"Mmm fuck there's so much. I feel so full with our cum inside me." Leah moans.

I smirk and kiss her one more time. "Let's continue playing the game." I say.

Leah smiles and nods, the girls giggle and agree. The girls were touching themselves as they watched me fuck Leah and fill her up with my seed.

We sit back down and continue playing the game. "Leah pick the next task baby." I say.

Leah nods and looks around the room. Leah looks at Steph and smirks. "Last one to strap Steph loses their panties or boxers and bra." Leah says.

To be continued in part 2!

[stylespresleyhearted]

POV: YOU’RE DATING CALLUM TURNER

or the one where i pretend i am Callum’s girlfriend (and also tagging @precious-little-scoundrel on this bc I GOTTA)

liked by yourinstagram and 56204 others

tmznews Callum Turner spotted with a mystery girl! Is the new heartthrob off the market? Link in bio for everything TMZ has on his new gal.

view all comments

user23 the invasion of privacy … yikes

user12 What does it say about me if I read the article because tbh I’m curious

fan12 don’t do it, lets respect their privacy

callumupdates Don’t give TMZ any clicks. Look at the horrible quality of the photos, they obviously weren’t supposed to obtain these. Callum will share when he is ready.

yourfriendsig At least she’s pretty 😍

yourinstagram stopppp haha

liked by rafflaw, anthonyboyle, and others

yourinstagram soft launching my man bc he’s hot and i love him ❣️ (oh yeah and tmz exposed us)

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fan12 GIRL THIS IS A HARD LAUNCH NOTHING SOFT ABOUT IT!!!!

user41 crrrryingggg omg iconic

user23 lol attention seeker

yourfriendsig It took me three years to be IG official with you, why does he get special treatment 😒

yourusername take a guess 😉

keoghan92 @tmznews you suck

liked by fan12 and 63917 others

deuxmoi Spotted: Callum Turner and his girlfriend at a pub in downtown London. Looks like no more hiding for this couple. Sources tell me they’re in love and don’t care who knows it.

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fan12 wahhh they’re so cute

user23 i’m so jealous but i also ship it so hard

fan41 my friend saw them making out at a diner last week lmao she said they were eating each other not the food

liked by austinbutler and 36072 others

yourinstagram so proud and moved to tears ♥️ the entire cast and crew did a great job honoring these brave men

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fan12 we love a supportive gf

fan41 what a great picture fr

user23 I met y/n at the event tonight and she was the sweetest, most HILARIOUS person its easy to see why Callum is in love with her ❤️

liked by yourinstagram, rafflaw, and 78912 others

anthonyboyle One Direction

view all comments

user97 OMGGG they’re so hot wtf

yourinstagram more like Wrong Direction

keoghan92 you think you’re funny huh

yourinstagram Callum finds me funny 🥲

rafflaw he’s biased he’s in love with u

fan91 cryingg she’s a part of the mota fam 💍🥹

liked by keoghan92 and others

yourinstagram hi movie star ♥️ i love you - your biggest fan

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rafflaw 💍💍💍👀

yourfriendsig @rafflaw LMAO DONT START THE RUMORS

appletv Mr & Mrs Egan spin off?

keoghan92 sappy

yourinstagram @sabrinacarpenter

liked by yourinstagram and 639 others

yourfriendsig good times

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user91 … the hand on her ass … making out … CALLUM TURNER I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE

yourinstagram why would you post this when you know im missing him 🥺

yourinstagram brb omw to ft him

fan23 i love the way y/n loves him she isn’t afraid to be a normal girlfriend

liked by anthonyboyle, keoghan92, austinbutler, and 941633 others

yourinstagram social media making fun of me for this but if he was your man you’d get it 😌 i say that’s my baby and i’m proud ♥️♥️

view all comments

fan12 if i didn’t see my bf for a week i’d react the same way people need to mind their business

yourinstagram it was only three days but yes your point still stands 😆

yourfriendsig y/n you’re an icon

fan92 i love them so fucking much pls adopt me

yourinstagram okay! ♥️

liked by austinbutler, rafflaw, and 76043 others

yourinstagram someone tell y/n not to leave her phone unlocked 🤣🤣🥳 - anthony & barry here!

edit: got my phone back. can’t bring myself to delete my boyfriend looks so cute. i guess barry and anthony look okay.

view all comments

fan23 LMAO PLS HOW DID THEY STEAL HER PHONE !!!😂😂CALLUM TAKE IT BACK!

yourinstagram he was supposed to hold it for me it didn’t fit in my clutch and he sided w the enemies 🥺

anthonyboyle New profile picture?

yourinstagram i’ll kill you

yourinstagram also i think it’s important for everyone to know @keoghan92 stuck his hand down my boyfriends pants pocket to get my phone

keoghan92 and i liked it

anthonyboyle 😂😂😂

—

The End

Ahhhhhh making this was so much fun!!! Y/N is a bit shameless in her adoration for her man but that’s the point!!! I’d be the same if he was mine (I mean look at Vanessa Kirby and Dua Lipa lmao)

Marina this is for us because this man deserves our love we’d make him so happy 🙌🏼

It was supposed to be silly and funny so don’t give me shit obviously celeb relationships would be a lot more private. And for bonus fun check this out ⬇️

[justbelievinginmagic]

like a waltz⎯ part 5: aplomb. (pt.2)

pairing(s): ateez ot8 x fem!reader series summary: when 8 mysterious bachelors arrive to town and fall for your charms, will you be able to reach your goal to be prima ballerina or be dragged into a selfish waltz between love and obsession? glimpse: with swan lake’s end approaching, you gain more free time and notice the changes within your port town – and your relationships with the bachelors of ateez house. warnings/tags: inspired by Ateez’s Ice on my Teeth MV & Teasers, Mafia AU, Ballet AU, early 1900’s AU with some divergences in tech advancements (i.e rule of cool), 3rd person POV, use of YN, mxm, polyteez, MATURE topics, canon typical violence, canon typical gore, sugar daddy themes, unequal power dynamics, polyamory, exploitation in ballet, intimacy, Korean honorifics, controlling & obsessive tendencies, infatuation, stripping, gambling, mafia things, alcohol, smoking, kissing, possessiveness, jealousy, stalking, sexual themes but no smut, alcohol abuse, partying, pain, medical drug usage, traumatic injury, injuries, reader discretion advised & 18+ readers only! Let me know if I should tag anything else! word count: 30.2k previous chapter <- aplomb (pt. 1) -> next chapter series masterlist read on ao3! important note: hi! this part was too long for tumblr’s word count rules, so it has been split! please make sure you've read the first part of this chapter, here! or you can read it uninterrupted via the ao3 link ;)

It was the last show. The backstage was buzzing. Ballerinas ran about, preparing for the last performance with vigor. Murmurs of excitement flooded the room. Some of the male dancers popped their heads in eyes shut; after all, the space was forbidden to them as they chatted about the later activities. Wine and champagne had been bought; rumors of a cake were going around too.

YN was excited. She was ready for Swan Lake’s run to end – tired of the same routine. She enjoyed its monotony for only so long. Spring would bring new choreographies, new roles, new everything. She was excited to share it with her patrons.

Her patrons! Oh, she was so excited to see them tonight. It was a time to show off – though she wouldn’t risk angering the Madame again. Once was enough and she did want to be on her good side before auditions crept up for whatever show they’d perform next. Tonight, simply, had to be perfect. For them.

YN adjusted her top, making sure her strands of pearls laid nicely around her neck. Her makeup was perfect; she wiped at her lipstick to make sure, if she pressed any kisses to their cheeks, it wouldn’t stain too much.

Wooyoung and San would be there but perhaps even Yeosang and Yunho… they promised! And Jongho had hoped to see her again! Oh, she hoped to see them all. Wiping her hands from her lipstick she went to go warm up. Tiny ran up to her.

“YN, YN, YN!” she chimed. “You have a delivery!”

YN’s eyes widened in surprise as she looked up to the doorway to see a familiar unfamiliar face. A butler with that shared stoney expression stood there, blank-faced, with the largest bouquet of flowers she’s ever seen. All red and pink, vibrant blooming roses overflowed from the vase. A singular marigold stood out in its golden glory in the center. Odd, but not any less impressive. Fresh flowers in winter in such amounts were rare. No, they were expensive. Ballerinas around her gasped out, covering their mouths in awe.

“I’ve never seen so many flowers – not even for the prima ballerina!” a woman chimed.

“Who’s it from?” Tiny inquired.

“Her patrons, no doubt,” an older girl scolded the other.

Tiny stuck her tongue out before glancing up at YN with wide intrigued eyes. Taking the vase, it was almost too heavy for her to hold.

“Let me,” the butler said, voice muffled and tight. He barely even moved his mouth she noted.

YN nodded and guided him into the room to her shared vanity. Her vanity-mates glared as it took up most of their communal space.

“Thank you,” she thanked the butler who simply bowed respectfully and turned to leave.

“Who is it from?” Tiny insisted again. “I think Wooyo!”

“Okay, okay, let’s see!” YN laughed, grabbing the white card that was stuck next to the marigold.

‘Good luck, our treasure. I wish you the happiest closing’

The card was thick but the handwriting was unfamiliar to her. Not Wooyoung’s scrawl or San’s messy blocky letters or even Yeosang’s cursive. Could it be Yunho or Jongho? She wasn’t sure. There was no signature, no emblem, nothing.

“I’m not sure,” YN said. “I’ll ask them when they arrive.”

“They’re so pretty,” Tiny awed. YN agreed before telling the younger they should get ready for places.

-

The performance was invigorating. The orchestra was loud and booming; the lights were hot against her skin; the air buzzed with excitement. Familiar faces clashed with new in the crowd – a sold-out house for their last performance. She was beaming.

Her grin only grew more when she spotted her box – Box #8. It too was quite full. Wooyoung and San’s forms were familiar in their favorite chairs. But besides them sat four others. Yeosang was beside Wooyoung, a pair of opera spectacles in his grasp. Surprisingly, Jongho also sat there occasionally whispering to Yeosang about the performance. His smile and sparkling eyes caught her attention the most. Behind them, more shadowed in the darkness of the booth, was Yunho and Mingi, tall even in their seats. She could see the way their teeth sparkled when a light flickered past.

All of them came – well, all that she knew – it was such a pleasant sight. Her chin held high as she pirouetted, the correct number of times, and leapt off stage with the others.

-

“YN has a full box tonight,” a girl teased.

“At least she has folk here; Mina’s patron is a no show.”

Takahashi wasn’t here? Strange. She hadnt noticed in the crowd. She was too occupied with the thoughts of her six bachelors.

“Maybe someone else will go after her then,” a dancer commented.

“He pays well.” Another chimed. “No one would dare!”

“Stop talking about patrons; rude girls!” Julia scolded out of nowhere.

They all glanced aside, annoyance to surprise flickering over their faces.

-

Intermission came and went. It was the rare moment where the boudoir was closed. As if to make the appeal of it even more scandalous, more exclusive. She didn’t expect her excitement to tickle her stomach; for her anxious bones to miss the faces of her patrons. It was only an intermission but she still couldn’t sit still. Her eyes kept glancing to the settee – a settee that was vacant. Would it be able to seat seven? She wondered.

-

The show was at its closing. The music was crescendo-ing as the prima ballerina was curtsying and genuflecting to the crowds’ roars and cheers. Shouts of bravos cried out. The envious part of her cried out too; she wanted to be that. One day, one day….

Flowers were tossed on stage; mostly dried considering the chill that had encompassed the city. It only made her own pride bubble up at the thought of her large vase in the boudoir. She was special. She was better. YN watched the prima’s patron – an elderly man – struggle to stand and clap for her. It was so fascinating that with him the dancer had made it to the limelight. Glancing up at her box, she saw them all on their feet, applauding. Applauding for her.

Yes, she knew one day… she’d be in the prima’s spot – the way they applauded and made her feel it; she’d feel that spotlight. Just you wait.

And then the curtain fell; the bright lights of the stage dimmed with its closure. She turned to long-time friends hugging them and congratulating them on a well-done show. The prima, the featured dancers, and even Julia had all scurried off – the false ideation that they were somehow better than the others celebrating was laughable to YN. They all were the same – they all had to appeal to someone higher than them.

She squeezed Tiny into a hug, telling the girl how proud she was. The little girl beamed and chattered on about next season and her what ifs. She even claimed how she was going to get a patron next!

It made YN sick to her stomach a bit. She remembered when she was just like Tiny though. Wishing and hopeful. Perhaps she had gotten her dream; her patrons were polite and good and gentle.

“Champagne in the foyer de la danse!” Someone shouted out and there were cheers.

The boudoir had become a mix of people – the male dancers had snuck their way in, wiggling amongst the sea of women and girls changing out of their costumes into their street-wear. Giggling and stories and conversations bounced off the gilded-caged walls.

Makeup was shoved into drawers; champagne and cheap wine were placed on the vanities’ table-tops. A record player was rolled in, its needle sharp and scratching as a couple girls fiddled with it.

All YN could do as she waited, dressed-down into her day-skirts and blouse, was look around. The younger girls were ushered out by the elder ballerinas, insisting they could join next year (even if that was far from the truth for some). Patrons of old age and new came pouring into the room. Like a bunch of sardines in a can, the room was packed. YN remained close to her vanity; the table-top full of her flowers haloing her as she waited, fiddling with her jewelry.

It took too long she first thought. What if they don’t come? She could see the other patrons with their proteges. Drinking down wine and smoking cigars. Some danced, although too pressed up and scandalous for her taste. Where were her men? Her eyes glanced over the crowd again.

But when they did arrive, it was exciting. It was exciting to see them all enter the boudoir, side-by-side and glamourous in their dark, slick suits. Drawing eyes. Yet their eyes remained on her. All on her. All for her. She didn’t want it to be a status symbol but it surely felt like it. Six handsome bachelors all wanted her. Her attention, her hand, her affection. If she despised them, surely it would’ve been an arduous task, but each one was kind, sweet in their own way.

Wooyoung, her first – the very first of the Ateez Mansion bachelors to see something in her, strode ahead, pushing through the crowds and eager to congratulate her. A grin grew on his face as his fingers itched to hug her, spin her about.

San, her second – the courteous man who always made sure she was comfortable – wasn’t far behind but he did glance aside at the others as if making sure they remained by his side. A bouquet of flowers was held close to his chest.

Yeosang, hands clasped politely in front of him, beamed with pride – the same pride he wore when he won a championship. As if she was just as worthy of a prize.

Jongho, the man that saved her that night, shifted on guard, but his face warmed at the sight of her, as she was swallowed up in Wooyoung’s hug. Safe, happy. He wanted that for her. His smile on such a stoic face felt like an achievement.

Yunho and Mingi, side by side, glanced at one another as they grinned. This felt right, her with them. They both couldn’t deny it; she couldn’t deny the safe feeling that she felt with their gaze on her.

“You did beautiful, swanette,” Wooyoung whispered fondly in her ear, pressing a kiss to the cartilage.

Pulling back with the largest grin, he soaked up the celebrations all around. Popped champagne, giggling girls, and the sound of a record player playing nearby. It was a party for sure – and that happiest he had seen most of the girls in the boudoir.

San was standing over Wooyoung’s shoulder, smiling wide.

“Hello honey,” he hummed out.

Wooyoung shifted her in his grasp, arms swooping to rest around her waist. Her eyes lit up at the sight of the flowers. Red roses, dozens of them, were wrapped up in dark paper bouquet.

“You did well,” he praised, leaning forward to press a kiss to her temple and shuffled the bouquet into her arms.

“Thank you, Sannie. Thank you.”

He didn’t know how much she meant it. Their patronage, it helped. It helped her save money; it helped her gain a reputation; it gave her credibility. But it also… made her happy. They made her happy. She loved spending time with them; their company was something she cherished, almost more than their patronage.

San beamed at the sight of her and the florals in her arms. The tall figures of Yunho and Mingi shuffled on either side of San. Yunho handed over the flowers he held to his best friend. Mingi approached with a large bouquet, almost competing in size with San’s.

“Congratulations,” he rumbled out, handing her him and Yunho’s flowers – a collection of white roses, countless amounts of the blooms (somehow fragrant and flourishing in the middle of winter.)

“Thank you,” she smiled up at him even as he shambled the comically large collection of flowers in her arms.  “Thank you for coming! Did you like it?”

Mingi smiled at her. “Of course; I loved to watch you.”

Her face flushed pleasantly and he couldn’t help but grin wider. YN shifted the bouquets around, trying to find an easier way to hold them. They nearly swallowed her whole. She couldn’t imagine how she was going to get them home – alongside the ones that were delivered earlier.

“You look like a honey bee,” San giggled. Yunho smiled fondly at her.

“These are more flowers than I’ve ever had,” she fluttered, holding them closer. Mingi’s smile was pure like the smile he had shared with her when he bashfully went to open her door awkwardly when she visited the mansion for the first time. Genuine and boyish.

“You like them?” Mingi asked.

“I love them!” she replied easily.

Mingi preened at that; Yunho glanced over at him with a sweet smile.

“Shall I hold them for you?” Jongho was the one to speak up, taking a step forward.

She nodded. “Thank you.” He took hold of the bouquets. She was quick to squeeze his hand. “Thank you, all of you for coming. I’m so happy to see you all.”

The men shared a smile before murmuring out agreements. That they wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

Her mountain of flowers was shifted to their settee, untouched in the wildness of the party. By this point in the season, they knew who claimed that part of the boudoir.

She asked who sent the vase; no one had an answer.

“Perhaps Seonghwa?” Yunho prompted, glancing at them.

“He enjoyed your work, love.” Jongho told her, nudging her with his arm.

“I’m happy he did. I wish I could’ve met him.” she admitted. Jongho shrugged a shoulder.

“One day, I’m sure.” He smiled reassuringly. She loved his smile she realized.

“Dance with me?” Yeosang tapped her hand to get her attention. An upbeat song was playing; similar to the music he was listening to while practicing.

“Oh sure!” she beamed.

He quickly took hold of her hands and the two began to dance alongside the other attendees. Wine was passed around; Yeosang sipped on it and let her drink some from his glass, pouring it into her mouth. Her hand eventually held a flute of champagne, something she easily drank.

At previous closing parties, she’d never celebrate so wildly. It was known to rarely accept alcohol from a patron – even if they insisted. After all, alcohol and wits don’t mix. But this was her patrons, her bachelors. She couldn’t help but feel the wash of safety over her.

So, she drank and danced and sweated and laughed. She was spun about, dancing in a sort of waltz between Yeosang, Wooyoung, and surprisingly Jongho! She was held close as they led the dance; not once did she step on their toes, the benefit of being a professional ballet dancer.

Jongho complimented what he thought were the most beautiful parts of the ballet, using ballet terminology she was surprised a man cared about. Somehow she was always the most beautiful part.

Yeosang enjoyed the socialite life; he would swoop her into the newest dances. Swinging her this way and that, others would look and clap at their dancing before joining in.

Wooyoung stole kisses, peppering her face. He rambled how he was so proud of her, so happy they’ve met, even that he loved her. She told him she cared for him too, pressing a kiss to his lips easily. It was all a whirlwind, spinning carousel of dancing, endless mirrors, and familiar patrons. She embraced the feeling, the wildness, courageously. 

Meanwhile, Yunho, San, and Mingi stood nearby. Their gazes took in the entirety of the hall. As the night crept onwards, the debauchery grew. Patrons manipulated ballerinas this way and that. Yunho gritted his teeth. They may trade in alcohol, money, diamonds, and threats – they didn’t trade in people or sex. It had been that way since the beginning.

“I hate them,” Yunho grunted out to San as he raised his glass to his lips, faking a sip. Someone had to remain sober.

Mingi mumbled out an agreement, staring at how a man twisted a woman around to press a hot kiss to their mouth.

San’s brows twitched in agreement, his gaze stoney as he reached out to tug YN closer by her hips. She was in half-conversation with a ballerina, her smile bright as she remembered a dance memory. Wooyoung’s arm was slung around her waist as he raised his glass to his mouth, drinking down expensive liquor.

San hovered over her shoulder and she naturally turned.

“Oh, hello,” she chirped out and he couldn’t help but smile, features softening.

“Hi honey,” he replied quietly. “You having fun?”

YN nodded. “I never celebrated like this,” she admitted. “It wasn’t ever safe.”

Nearby, Jongho’s firm lip rose into a scowl. He understood why as he saw a man grasp a ballerina’s thigh. He looked over his clan and stood firm.

“You’ve got us,” Jongho promised.

Wooyoung giggled, pressing kisses to her throat. “Yeah, swanette!”

“Are you having fun?” she asked, doe-ishly looking between the men sat on the settee. Mingi immediately sensed she had more to drink than he thought.

“Of course, baby,” he replied. “You have fun.”

“I want to dance,” she reached out for his hand. Wooyoung, a giggly drunk, let her walk towards Mingi and pull him to feet. The taller man smiled and carefully wrapped her up in arms. Embracing the way, she leaned into his chest near immediately.

Wooyoung leaned back into San’s chest; the muscle of the two pressed a kiss to his own neck making him giggle out.

“No more to drink for her,” Yunho warned Mingi as he watched on loyally.

“Alright,” Mingi replied, spinning YN easily.

“No more drink for you either,” San rumbled, stealing the rest of Wooyoung’s drink and downing it in one gulp.

Wooyoung’s eyes burned, staring at the mouth that had gulped down his liquor.  

-

The night crept on until she was wiped out, half asleep in Yunho embrace. Shockingly out of them all, Yeosang remained on his feet dancing with her most of the night until Yunho had traded spots with the other.

The boudoir was a mess, proper. Figures blended into one another; empty bottles strewn about; a pile of records rested next to the record player. Its tune played on until with a click the needle popped off the record for what had to be the 3rd time.

“Ready to go home, darling?” Yunho murmured into her hair; it had long been taken out of its tight bun by the hands of her patrons. Wanting her to be comfortable – San had claimed she’d have a headache the longer she had her hair pinned so tightly. Yeosang commented that she’d probably have a headache regardless. Jongho’s pocket was heavied with her hair pins.

She nodded dazed. “Mmhm.” She agreed.

The clock chimed out the late hour just as the bachelors and their ballerina made their way out of the opera house. Walking past the private boudoirs, they could hear moans from inside – even this late into the evening. It made YN frown, curling underneath Yeosang’s embrace further.

“We have your flowers in the trunk, love,” Jongho told her as two automobiles pulled up, driven by those faceless butlers.

She blinked and nodded at his words. Her head pulsed, her limbs heavy with sleepiness. It had been a long day but a fun one. She had enjoyed dancing the night away with them. It was the first time she had a true fun time at a party. Safe and sound. She didn’t once get groped by a passing man; if they had tried, she was sure one of her patrons would’ve broken their hand. She giggled at that.

Wooyoung eyed his giggly ballerina with a lovestruck look. The alcohol had trickled from his veins as the night went on and while he still felt the blurry buzz he was more about himself now. San on the other hand had began to drink down Wooyoung’s drinks and now was half slumped over his shoulder, hot breath against his unbuttoned throat.

“We’ll take the second car,” Yunho informed, arm going to sling over Mingi’s shoulder. “Jongho?”

“I’ll go with the pretty lovebirds,” he chuckled watching as Yunho passed YN off to Yeosang’s arms. Who she immediately began to fawn over, saying how pretty and handsome he was much to the athlete’s blushing.

“See you back at the house,” Mingi said nodding at the group as they walked to their own car.

-

The car ride was longer than she had expected, but it was all a blur of houses and lights and compliments. She couldn’t help but look between her patrons and her athlete. Confidence tumbled out of her mouth as she complimented and wooed.

“You’ve changed my life… I love you y’know,” she mumbled into Yeosang’s collar before she fell asleep.

-

It was breaking dawn by the time the cars returned to the Ateez House. Daybreak painted the air a purple-pink as they walked into the grand mansion. A sleeping YN rested in Jongho’s arms as they passed rows of butlers.

“Let him know we’ve returned,” Yunho commanded, passing by them. “With his ‘treasure’.”

A butler carried her copious amounts of flowers behind her; they headed to the study that had been deemed hers recently. Decked out in soft linens and laces, they’ve slowly tried to add a more feminine touch for her. A proper lady’s sitting room.

She was laid on a long couch, pillows of silk elevating her head and a light blanket placed over her form. Her flowers decorated the room quickly as the men made sure she was settled.

“She’s adorable,” Wooyoung cooed, lovingly. His fingers caressed her cheek. “You should’ve heard her, Yun. Babbling on about how she loves us. She loves us!” He giggled happily. He leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead.

“I’m sure she was sweet.” Yunho commented, pushing a strand of her hair away.

“Are you sure its okay that we brought her back?” Jongho mumbled from nearby, stretching his legs as he sat on the loveseat beside her.

“She fell asleep in my arms,” Yunho argued. “While dancing! She wouldn’t have been able to walk up the steps to her house.”

“Softie,” Mingi teased, ever to used to being called the soft one. Yunho leaned forward to press a kiss to Mingi’s forehead, somehow scoldingly.

“She’ll be asleep most the day anyway. Business as usual can still happen.”

“I’ll go talk to them now.” Jongho yawned out, pushing himself out of the comfortable chair with a groan. “We can figure out who will stay with her. Try to get some sleep in the meantime.”

After all, Seonghwa and Hongjoong were growing anxious to meet her – and this was just tempting the cat with the mouse.

-

When YN awoke that morning, she felt a growing impatience. Scratch that, she had been impatient the moment she woke up in the fluffy bed in Yeosang’s room with her legs elevated and broken. Now, she was practically itching to leave. Every moment awake, she glared and fought with the hard feelings that filled her chest.

Doctors came and went under the watchful gaze of Yunho who had set up shop at the nearby desk. Her legs were checked and checked and checked again. Bandages reapplied; cast reset; medicine increased and decreased. Pillows fluffed and readjusted. While there was no pain anymore, she almost feared that more. The numbness, the stiffness, the sluggish feelings all weighed her down to the bed. She was tired of Yeosang’s bedroom. She was tired of sitting in one place. She was tired of the few faces she’d see day in and day out. The doctors didn’t talk to her; their heads always turned to speak to an overseeing Yunho.

Jongho and Yeosang came to visit each night, more so because she was in Yeosang’s bed. But they spoke to her as if nothing was wrong, snuggling up to her and stroking her face. She cursed her cruel heart for already letting herself soften in front of them. Jongho’s rare softness that made her feel special was a wicked advantage. Yeosang’s devotion and alibi of being away gave him an easier key to her good graces. When she spotted them, she didn’t grimace or glare (as much). But they knew by the way she refused their affections, turned her head at their kisses, that she was upset.

A week of bedrest was driving her nuts. She wasn’t the type to enjoy inactivity. She glared over at Yunho who sat at the desk at the far end of the room. He had become a sort of baby-sitter. Baffling to her, considering he was always busy before. Where was Mingi? Or Wooyoung or San? She hadnt seen either since the day she walked out of the mansion.

Even a butler watching over her wouldn’t be odd. They had done it all before.

She observed him from her palace of pillows; it seemed like she woke to a new one tucked around her. Sometimes she wondered what happened when her eyes shut. Who visited her then – if anyone?

Yunho’s aura was dark like a storm cloud, but she knew him well enough – or thought she knew him well enough – to steady a glare at him fearlessly. A swirl of smoke tumbled from his mouth as he pulled a cigarette away from his lips. Her anxiety was palpable.

“Darling,” he tried to soothe. She’d been staring at him for so long he couldn’t make out the numbers he was reviewing for Jongho. “What is causing you so much distress? I can feel your eyes on me.”

Yunho spoke genuinely, concern pooling in his starless eyes. He was dedicated to the family – dedicated to her. He had never wanted this, warned her against it; he hid away when he knew he’d receive the order. His eyes burned her skin.

YN felt like she was doing a pirouette over and over and over; her head dizzy with the implications that they just didn’t get it! It was almost funny. What did he think was the matter? She had broken legs! What was making them so blind?

“I’m angry,” she stated.

“I know that,” he sighed out. Remnant smoke billowed from his nose like he was a dragon before he snuffed out his cigarette. “What can I do to make it better?”

“I want to leave. I want to get out of this stupid bed.” Her hand slapped against layers of duvets frustratedly.

“Done.” Yunho chimed out, almost energetically. Enthusiastic even.

He kicked back the chair with a scrape of the wood against the floorboards. YN’s head lifted from a silk pillow, startled.

“Huh?” she whispered.

She hadn’t expected this. Compliance. Help. Her heart’s heaviness lifted as she watched him stride over to her.

“Mingi,” Yunho called out, his eyes never leaving hers as he watched her push and wiggle at her sheets and duvets. Beneath the layers, she had been dressed in a new pajama dress, something pure white and silky. She wondered who did that. She remembered how Seonghwa had promised a hot bath but she had fallen asleep then. Who was tending to her so intimately? She shivered.

“Mingi!”

There was a shout of acknowledgement and a thundering of footsteps. Ironic considering how he was the one to sneak around – according to, well, himself. She remembered how he’d sneak up on her in the gardens – to whisk her away to the garage or to play chess. She wished for those days again but she also didnt; her stomach churned.

“Yes?” Mingi opened the door tentatively. His eyes met hers and he couldn’t help the way his knees nearly buckled. “Hi baby. You’re awake.”

He sounded relieved, grateful, happy. His smile was wide. His gaze flickered to his best friend, almost as if checking in with him. Yunho nodded. Mingi crept closer kneeling at her level. It was cruel how this was the first time they had been apart for so long – him, San, and especially Wooyoung. And how despite everything, her phantom pains, her anger and biting dread, she missed him.

She hated that she missed him.

His hand went to cup her cheek and she hated the way she automatically curled into it’s warm. Mingi chuckled softly; it was almost a damp sound. He leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead. Hot breath brushed over her face. Glancing up, she saw Yunho shadowed Mingi’s form, smiling.

“Lift up our sweetheart for us.” Yunho asked. “San’s still out, yes?”

Mingi nodded, not even looking over his shoulder at his best friend and co-Underboss. All he could do was cherish the softness of his baby-doll’s skin. Its warmth. She was here. She was okay. He smiled, diamonds glinting.

“Wrap your arms around me,” he encouraged, tone rumbling against her skin. She listened and did so, excitement bubbling up in her stomach. She was leaving. She was going to be free.

Mingi easily wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up; Yunho made sure she was appropriately covered, shifting her nightgown about.

“Where to?” Mingi asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“To the study.”

No.

She gripped harder at the back of Mingi’s neck. Catching his attention, wide eyes shifted to look at her.

“No, I want to leave.” She insisted.

“You wanted to leave the bed. C’mon.” Yunho clarified as he walked out of the room.

“No, Yunho.” She cursed out. “Mingi, please, I want to leave.”

She could see Yunho shake his head disapprovingly as Mingi rose and followed after. She didn’t do anything easy; squiggly in her lover’s grasp. Mingi’s grasp tightened, reminding her that he was stronger than he seemed. Despite his softness around her, there was strength in his veins.

“Relax; you’ll hurt yourself,” Mingi tried to soothe as he rounded a corner. Yunho parted from them going down another path.

“I don’t care!” she bit out, pushing at Mingi’s chest. Her casted legs clanked together and she flinched back a pained yelp.

“I do.” Mingi argued back. “What are you gonna do, walk out of here?”

It was said with irony, but she felt the truth burn her. She hissed a breath in and shoved at him again, just for the cruelty of it.

Mingi’s eyes were pools of amber, soft and regretful, but he swallowed it down. His Adam’s apple bounced and he continued towards the study that had been hers since her arrival to the Ateez House.

Coated in golden sunlight, the sunset casted the room in warmth. A fire-place was dimly lit, needing to be stoked but ultimately not there for warmth yet. The couch was prepared for her she noted; blankets and pillows piled up; a book and even a steaming cup of tea rested on the tableside. Yeosang’s doing, she thought, but when Jongho and Yunho walked in she debated if it was perhaps the youngest. Behind them, a line of butlers followed, mechanically.

Mingi carefully set her down, tucking her legs underneath a blanket like she was a babe. She shifted her form up on her arms; her body ached from misuse, and she couldn’t help the frustrated sigh that tumbled from her mouth.

“I know,” Mingi tried to soothe.

He didn’t know; she felt that in her bones.

The butlers lined up in front of the fireplace at the direction of Jongho, pointing to where to go. Yunho settled at a small table in the corner of the room, watching as Jongho worked. His long limbs stretched out – even he had grown tired of that bedroom.

“Hello, love,” Jongho greeted finally. His eyes sparkled when they looked at her. She didn’t reply. Staring.

He huffed a bit, unused to the treatment but Seonghwa had reassured him it’d take time. He had been so inconsolable though Jongho wondered if he simply said anything to get him to be able to focus once more.

“I’m happy you are up and about.”

“I want to leave.” She reiterated. “I want to go home.”

“Our home is your home now,” Jongho replied. “It has been for a while but even more after everything.”

She glared. That wasn’t the answer she had wanted.

“These butlers are just for you, babydoll,” Mingi directed her, nodding towards the row of stone-faced butlers. Each one wore a pinned red rose; the only alteration to their uniformed look.

“If you need anything they’ll help you.” Jongho finished for the other.

“If I wanted to leave?”

Mingi looked like a kicked puppy. Soft brows upturned and his eyes big and glassy. His lips were pouted, plump. He didn’t look like a mafia boss in that moment; he looked like someone had ripped his heart out.

“Not that.” he mumbled; his brows crinkled and he licked his puffy lips before glancing aside and sitting beside her on the couch, minding her legs. “No leaving, no hurting yourself. You have to heal, YN. Rest. And heal.”

“I wouldn’t have to heal if you all didn’t do this to me!”

She tilted her head a leveled him with a glare that was so unlike her. His lips parted like someone had punched him. He glanced away. Yunho gritted his teeth. Jongho’s fists curled and uncurled.

“I’m a prisoner here, Mingi.” She told him. “A doll for you to play with when you wish.”

“I don’t think that-“

“So cruel, dove,” a voice sighed out, heeled boots clanking on hard-wooden floors.

There was a clicking sound of a tongue, like a tut. The butlers dispersed quickly like a house of cards falling. “After everything, you are still being a brat.”

“Shall I direct my ire at you instead?” YN grimaced glancing over at Seonghwa… and Hongjoong.

The sight of them made her breath catch.  They both looked different but she wasn’t sure if that was just the betrayal. They were still dressed to the nines but parts of their looks were absent – Seonghwa had no coat, revealing his white dress-shirt with its shirt garters, and Hongjoong’s hair was mussed from removing a hat. He observed her, coldly. Icily.

She felt like she had seen them both wear what they had on to the opera once or twice. She wondered if they had been to it – appearances were still to be upheld in high society after all. All while she rotted away. Her career in shatters with her bones.

It made her bear her teeth. Mingi sighed beside her, glancing away. He understood her anger – he hated to be stifled. But there were worse things in life than to be loved and cared for. He thought of all the things he had to do in his lifetime; all she had to do was stay and be theirs. Easy.

“I’ve dealt with harsher things in life than a scorned lover,” Seonghwa commented.

He didn’t approach her, but instead he tended to the nearby fire. Hongjoong went to the nearby serving cart, pouring himself a drink with a large ice cube in his glass. Yunho met his Captain’s eyes solidly. Hongjoong’s hand went to squeeze his shoulder, reassuringly.

“I have eight lovers,” Seonghwa continued; it should be comforting that she was still included but her stomach only fizzled with burning coals. “You think a little disagreement will harm me, my dove?”

How dare he imply her legs being broken and her fury was nothing so flippantly?

“A little disagreement!” she gritted out, shifting her body to move as if she could hobble over to the cocky man. Her limbs argued immediately, zinging pain went up her legs as she grunted out a pained gasp.

Mingi and Jongho were quick to move to her side, kneeling down on scuffed knees to resettle her. Mingi’s eyes were wide, fearful. Jongho’s face was unreadable as he laid a protective hand across her legs, keeping them still.

“You’ll hurt yourself, baby,” Mingi insisted. “Be careful.”

Her hands formed little fists, and she huffed.

Seonghwa turned to glance at her, a sharp leer on his diamond-teeth.

“You can’t do much in this state, YN,” he said. “Be a good girl and sit back.”

She glared up at his beautiful face. YN could feel Mingi’s and Jongho’s bated breath against her knees. It was silent for a moment as she and the Consiglere of the Kim Clan glared at one another. It was strange. Out of all of her lovers, it felt like Seonghwa was the one most scorned. As if she had hurt him. Gaslighting her into thinking she was the villain. Despite the fact, she felt in her bones that he or Hongjoong orchestrated the attack on her. He was there that night. He was the one to ‘rescue’ her from her assailants, carry her to safety. A Lucifer-hero.

Yet here he stood with a stiff upper lip, a scowl in his eyes. Strange considering he still said he loved her – like a disappointed parent he strove to displine alongside Hongjoong.

Mingi’s head drooped. His forehead brushed against her clothed knees. His soft lips pressed a kiss there, to one knee and then the other reverently. Encouraging her to listen.

Her gaze shifted from Seonghwa to Hongjoong who stood swirling his drink. His tongue prodded his cheek, eyes deep and dark at they stared at her. Emotionless.

With a curled lip, she laid back into the cushions.

“Good girl,” Seonghwa praised, returning the fire-stoker to its holder with a clank. He glanced towards Yunho. “Is she well?”

“Doctor said all she needed was rest – he’ll check on her in a month. I insisted on sooner, but she is healthy, no fever, no infection.”

It felt dehumanizing for them to talk over her health like she wasn’t there. She glared over at Seonghwa, watching as he nodded and agreed with Yunho’s debrief, but when his gaze flickered to her, her eyes were chased away. Instead to rest back on Hongjoong.

Hongjoong. Flashes of their last encounters clashed in her head. An angel holding her in his arms, dark disappointment, brooding anger. A cruel mouth as he warned her to not follow through with what she was going to do. He was Scorpio’s son, through and through. Passionate in everything he did. Even now as he stared, there was the ringing depth in his eyes as he tilted his head in thought at her.

Yunho and Seonghwa talked about her health – mentions of medicine amounts, how one makes her drowsier than he’d like, restlessness. It was like Yunho was a proper doctor with how in-depth he was. She’d be flattered if they werent the reason.

“Reduce the medicine soon; I don’t want her becoming dependent.” Seonghwa commented.

Now that made her laugh, loud into the open air. Tears pricked her eyes.

“I can’t believe you – all of you,” she bit out. Her eyes continued to remain locked with Hongjoong.

She always knew he was the one that ran this place – everyone was in debted to him. Even her!

“You worry about dependency; this entire relationship is dependent.” She bit out.

Hongjoong’s brows didn’t twitch; his face remaine statuesque. He raised his glass to his lips swallowing down his drink as he watched her breakdown.

“Stop being difficult,” Seonghwa scolded.

Jongho was the one to speak up, his hand on her knees soothing circles above her casts. Jongho had been so distracted these few days – his mind locked on only her. Even now as she spat cruelty, he just wanted her happy, not angered and certainly not on Seonghwa’s bad side.

“She doesn’t mean it,” Jongho defended. “She’s just surprised. Aren’t you? You’re not trying to be difficult.”

Seonghwa sighed out, helplessly for a moment. Glancing over at Hongjoong, he tried to gauge his lover’s mind. He was always so hard to read. Jongho’s big eyes were easy to read when it came to the eldests. He was an open book, clay, maleable. Something to protect as well as shape. She made their strongest asset weep. He just wanted things to calm. And Seonghwa would indulge their youngest as long as he could.

It was a game she realized. The way Seonghwa shifted his gaze to her after a moment, firm lipped. Disappointed. It was a game. Like a patron and a protégé once again. Would she play?

“Love?” she hated that Jongho’s tenderness tugged at her heart. Her eyes drifted from the blank-faced Seonghwa to her sweetest lover. Jongho was on his knees, pleading.  

“I’m in shock,” she muttered to him. “I can’t dance, I can’t walk. And I know…” she glanced over at Seonghwa and Hongjoong. “I know that you had a part to play. How am I to feel?”

Jongho didn’t counter it; he buried his face into her lap.

“You can feel what you feel; it’ll fade. Now, you heal,” Mingi tried to counter again. He made her want to laugh. Heal… Tears tumbled over her cheeks. As if it was that easy, she wondered. Her hand was quick to wipe it before anyone else could.

“He’s right.” Seonghwa countered. “Everything is how it should be now. You’ll see.”

“The ballerina,” she bit out. “Your protégé has two broken legs. She cant walk or dance. It’s like you taking a fish from water and saying its natural fro them to breath air.”

“You havent been a protégé in some time, YN.” Hongjoong retorted, speaking for the first time since entering. His words were calculated and calm. “You are ours.”

He took a step forward.  

“You are mine. I don’t let my things leave me.” He said.

She shifted her attention on him fully. And challenged him once again.

“Did you do this, Hongjoong? Answer me.”

“I didn’t touch you, precious.” It was snarky, coy.

She slapped the couch angered, her composure faltering.

“You know what I mean, you bastard.” She barked out.

His face twitched at her disrespect. Mingi huffed into her knee and buried his face into the boney thing. Groaning internally. He knew where this would go.

“I think our angel is overwhelmed. She forgets her place.” Hongjoong commented. “Let’s leave her to calm down a bit, hm.”

“No, I want answers.”

And, like they were magnets, one by one, the men gravitated away from her and towards Hongjoong. Seonghwa’s disappointment radiated from every pore of his body. Yunho didn’t meet her eye. Hongjoong meanwhile kept his gaze on her. His stare was frightening. Unchanging and yet darkening as Mingi and Jongho reluctantly pulled themselves away from her.

“And I demand respect. Even from you, my love.”

Somehow it ached to see them creep away. Was it love or habit? She didn’t know. Her heart just panged as they turned away from her. All at the command of Hongjoong. Her breath came out wobbly. Emotions clashing.

“You’ll see it my way soon.” Hongjoong stated, watching as the door closed behind the last man. Just him and her were left; YN stuck on her island of a couch while Hongjoong strolled away.

“You are right where you belong.” The doors shut behind him, locking with a clank.

YN let out a shriek of frustration before chucking a pillow at the door.

[dnd-writes]

Boulevard of Broken Dreams - Pt. 1

AO3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ok so where’s the video?”

“Ah, Ju-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[vaokses]

I worked the blade to make it deeper

Series Masterlist / General Masterlist

Pairing: Aegon x Rhaenyra's Daughter!Reader

Summary: Nearly two years have gone by since you left with your mother for Dragonstone, and yet your absence is as sharp as the first day. Rumors spread through King's Landing about how a Tyrell knight has captured your heart, and these rumors haunt Aegon, from the Keep to the taverns, leading him, drunk and reckless, to a brothel in the Street of Silk. Not in search of comfort, or in search of some illusion of you to keep him company through the night, but in search of something else.

Word Count: 4.4k 

Warnings: 18+. Smut (slight). Prostitution. Dubious consent. Drunkenness, alcohol consumption. Voyeurism. Self-harming or self-destructive actions/thoughts. Aegon's head is not in a good place at all. Descriptions/Allusions to panic attacks. A lot of angst, just a lot of it. Hurt and no comfort. Allusions to bad BDSM practices. I write this with sub!Aegon in mind, by the way, I don't know how explicit it is in this work, but it's there, and I'm warning you in case it's not your cup of tea. If I missed any warning tags, I apologize, and please let me know.

Some AU/Setting stuff: Same universe as How long this love can hold its breath and the Pirtir series. This takes place nearly a year before the beginning of the story, around four or so months before the other Aegon PoV chapter. You don't need to read either to read this tho.

A/N: So, I couldn't get this idea out of my head. It mixes some of book!Aegon's approach to intimacy/sex because I find it really interesting. This is just a lot of angst, but his character is so fucking sad, I can't help myself. I'll write some fluff for him at some point, I promise.

Title is from "Love opened a mortal wound. In agony, I worked the blade to make it deeper." by Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz.

All of this would be easier if he could just forget, Aegon gathers. If he could just forget about you, about what he lost and what he didn’t have, then everything would be easier. The quiet of the Keep wouldn’t feel so deafening, the future ahead of him would be a tad less unbearable. 

And he wouldn’t be sneaking around like an idiot, eavesdropping on his mother and his grandsire’s conversation because he heard your name. 

“That boy will hand the Blacks the Reach if we do not step in,” Alicent argues, voice laden with worry. “His father is old, and he hasn’t inherited his judiciousness, his restraint.” 

“Lord Alisdair might still bend, once the Princess leaves Highgarden and his blood cools. Nothing makes a man as bold as a woman’s smile.” 

“Her smile, or the promise of her hand?” 

Aegon feels as if a weight had been dropped on his chest, and yet he does not even think about tearing himself away from here, about ceasing in his listening for any news of you. The closest he can get to you, nowadays. 

“No arrangements have been made yet, and if t-…” 

“My lord husband will approve if Rhaenyra asks this of him, you know this. He will wed her granddaughter to the Tyrell boy himself if it is her who asks.” 

“Has she asked?”  

A few beats of silence, the seconds before an executioner’s sword finds a neck. 

“It is a matter of time.” 

___ 

It is as natural as breathing, to Aegon, to escape the confines of the Red Keep by now, to evade his guards and sneak into the city.  

Now he sits alone -he shrunk from his usual company, he isn’t sure even why-,  nursing yet another jug of mead and chasing languidly for the welcome stupor of a stiff drink, and finds that not even here do you stop tormenting him. 

“My sister was there for the tourney in Highgarden,” A woman comments, carelessly loud as she speaks to the group of people sitting with her, a table away from Aegon’s. “She said the eldest of House Redwyne gifted the Princess a mare.” 

“As dragon food?” The man she sits on the lap of asks, prompting her to laugh. 

“I would like a mare as a gift,” One of the girls argues, at another’s scoff arguing, “What? What is wrong with that?” 

“The Princess rides Vermithor. What is a fucking horse against the second largest dragon in the world?” 

The wench that is sent to refill Aegon’s drink presses against him unnecessarily, and her hand traces over his shoulders as she moves away. He feels her gaze on him, watching raptly to see if he follows her with his own gaze, if he wishes to play along. 

He mislikes this, these games, playing pretend at seduction. It feels even more false than it already is, fucking a woman, if she likes pretending she wants something beyond the tenuous oblivion they can find in one another. 

“You gather she’s coming here anytime soon?” The man from the other table asks, diverting his attention to them -to you- once again. 

“I don’t think so. Everyone would be scurrying about in preparation. Whenever there’s something brewing up in the Keep we have more work months ahead.” 

“I hear she’ll summer in Highgarden.” One of the younger girls comments. 

The old woman’s laughter is shrill, grating. Gloating, almost. At least that is what it sounds like, to him. 

“Of course she is. Alasdair Tyrell has returned from the Shield Islands, and victorious at that. Made them swear to her cause, apparently.” 

“To Rhaenyra’s?” 

“No.” 

Silence follows the simple answer. Aegon motions for the wench to refill his drink, which she doesn’t do quickly enough. 

“Oh,” The man breathes. Short little chuckles escape his chest, and he praises, “Clever lad, eh?” 

“‘Tis quite a wedding gift, is it not?” 

Aegon takes fast, perhaps hurried, gulps from the flagon, but the mead isn’t enough to drown out their voices. 

“So she has agreed to it?” 

“She is a young girl, and he a knight who has more than proven his devotion. He doesn’t have her hand yet, but I’d bet he has her heart.” 

“So it isn’t just Vermithor she wants to ride,” The man boasts, followed by what sounds like a slap. “Ow!” 

“‘Tis the future Queen you speak of, you fool.” 

He should stop himself, but he doesn’t want to. Aegon turns to them and asks,  

“And the future wife of Lord Tyrell, no?” 

“My Prince.” One -or a few, he doesn’t really care- of them greets, and a few heads bow, but he motions their empty platitudes away. 

“It is a…a joyous thing, a betrothal. And one made for love, at that,” He smiles at them, but they don’t smile back. They look at him like he’s seen hunters look at cornered beasts, they look at him as if they’re afraid of him. “We don’t see much of those nowadays, do we?” 

“No, my Prince.” The older man agrees, still cautious. 

He isn’t an idiot, he knows that he wasn’t…that you don’t feel for him what he does for you, that you don’t think about him as often as he thinks about you. But some part of him, foolish and perhaps more than a little masochistic, still hoped the truth might be another. 

Still hoped, against hope, against reason, that you might one day return, that you might still choose him. 

“A cause for celebration then, isn’t it?” He asks, standing up and swaying slightly on his feet. Their faces are guarded, careful, and though he makes his best attempt at another smile, shameless and debauched, it seems they see through it. He pushes on, “Drinks for all! On me!” 

He plays along, he plays his part, for a while. The mead keeps flowing, and when it ceases, he switches to wine. Watered down and tasteless, but it washes away the ashes the memory of you leaves on his tongue. 

And the loud voices and cheers of the people in the tavern drown out even his thoughts for a while, but he finds that tonight the wine does not make his thoughts any easier to bear. It seems instead to make them louder, to make the ache deep in his chest sharper, worse. 

As the night goes on, his thoughts get louder and the crowd around him quieter as they return to their homes, and Aegon refuses to return to the quiet, the solitude, of the Red Keep. 

___ 

Long ago, years ago, he would come to places such as this and ask them to be soft with him, to hold him and treat him gently, to be what he imagined you would be -what he glimpsed at, what he had, for however short a while it was-, to grant him what he supposed he might have had, were you to have stayed. 

But he understood fairly quickly that it just made everything worse, that it made the absence much sharper, the emptiness gnaw at him with renewed strength; and so he started refusing them whenever they tried to offer anything gentle. They did it wrong, anyways, it just made him feel brittle and cold and alone, and he prefers the distance, and the oblivion it provides, over the hollowness that their false warmth leaves him with. 

The months and then the years went by, and you never returned, not even a glimpse of you and Vermithor on the distant skies, not even a short visit with your family, not even a fucking letter; and Aegon can no longer hold on to the fantasy that you might have wanted him, that you could have loved him. 

He gathers that it was for the better, that the illusion has shattered. It makes it easier, to find oblivion buried in some whore or another, to have his nights away from the Keep be the reprieve they ought to be. It makes it easier to make things quiet again, to lose himself when he can force his useless heart out of the way.  

But he often trips on it. His heart, that is. 

And sometimes his yearning overpowers his reason, and he finds himself searching for a shadow of you, a version of you that still wants him. Despite the ache and the absence, he still can’t bring himself to ask any of the women to pretend to care for him, to pretend to love him, anymore. 

He tells himself it is enough that they look like you when the lights are dim and wine clouds his senses, that they don’t say anything when it is your name he calls out. He tells himself it is enough to have this, and that to ask for more would be to ask to be torn open. 

But the absence remains, the hollowness remains, a void gnawing away at him, hungrier and hungrier the longer he indulges in foolish illusions, in tricks of the light.  

At his weakest, he asks them to prove to him what he already knows to be true. That you, fantasy or real, illusion or not, do not care for him, do not love him. That you, upon knowing what he has made out of himself, aware of what they will ask him to become, have come to hate him. So he asks them to hurt him, to refuse him, to turn away from him.  

He doesn’t understand why he does it, why he still chases after that when it leaves him just as empty as asking for anything else does. He doesn’t understand the part of him that finds comfort in his own ruin. 

He doesn’t understand why he comes here, why he is restless as he crosses the doors into the familiar brothel, why he feels his throat close up at the sounds and scents of this place, why his chest feels tight with something between desperation and dread as he sets out to…to do what it takes to make his thoughts stop, to make himself understand that he must forget. 

He finds the one he’s looking for fairly easily, long silver hair and deep red dress amidst a sea of heads of dark hair and half-naked bodies. Her back is turned to him, and the wine makes the sight resemble a familiar dream for a moment, and his breath catches. 

But when he reaches her and she turns to face him, the face isn’t a familiar one, the eyes are wrong, and the smile is a mockery of yours. 

He still extends a hand, wordless, to ask her to join him. 

It’s almost funny, that for all he despises his ancestry, what he has inherited; in the eyes of any of the patrons of this establishment he is but another Targaryen man, looking to get it wet only with the ones that, real or no, reflect the blood of a lost world. 

It is preferrable that they don’t know any better. He’d rather be his father’s son than the fool that yearns for a woman he cannot have. 

Aegon isn’t sure why he’s doing this, why he has come here, why tonight the wine has made the pain only sharper, more unbearable. He isn’t sure if he’s punishing himself, for being as stupid as to allow himself to hope you’d return to him; or if he’s just resigning himself to the truth that is, forcing himself to shatter with his own hands, before his very eyes, the fantasy of what could have been. 

But he wants this, he…he needs this.  

“And you,” He calls out, pointing to a well-built young man with warm eyes and chestnut hair. Quite close to a knight. Quite close to a Tyrell, even. Aegon offers him a smile, wide and lecherous. It is a lie, but it is one he himself believes, and the false merriment keeps him safe. “You will join us.” 

The man takes Aegon’s free hand, and he lets them lead him to a private room, of dim lights and of air heavy with incense. In the midst of the hanging curtains, the many candles, and the huge bed in the center of it all, Aegon feels for a moment as if he’s suffocating. 

“What can we do for you, my Prince?” The woman asks, voice low, sultry, dripping with false sweetness. 

A nauseating blend of anxiousness and dread rise within him, and though he reaches for the glass of wine on a nearby table, downing the drink in two gulps in an attempt to chase these feelings away, they linger. 

Aegon watches, numbly, as the man reaches for a pitcher and refills his cup without a word. It is welcome, almost a comfort, the weight of a full glass in his hand. 

“I…I want to watch,” Aegon admits, voice hoarse in what he absently hopes they confuse with lust. “The two of you. I want to watch the two of you.” 

There’s a chair near the bed but far enough, aimed towards it. He has the absent thought of how many must come here not for participation but for a show, and Aegon tries clinging to that small observation, amuse himself to thoughts of what others come to do in these places; but his mind, anticipating and yet dreading what is to come, lingers on the present. 

His gaze, unfocused and staring at nothing but the faint memories he wishes would leave him, cannot look at them as the man and woman undress and sit together in bed, looking at him.  

He cannot look at them, and yet he feels their gazes on him. He feels as if he were the one naked, the one on display, asked to put up a show. 

“My Prince?” The woman calls out, forcing his eyes to focus on her. 

She awaits instruction, and he finds he can’t give it. 

It is a painful reality, a mortifying truth, that he does not know how to offer softness, gentleness. Or how to receive it. Or how to witness it, even. 

In losing you, he gathers he also lost the part of him that knew of the softness of a gentle touch, that knew how not to shatter at the thought of warmth. 

And now he can’t even make this…this pretender, already a poor mimicry of you, portray your warmth, the gentleness of your affection; and Aegon cannot even witness a glimpse of the warmth and the softness that you surely now give freely to that fool on the far end of the world. 

It dawns on him then, that he has forgotten pieces of you, that he has lost part of you to time and to distance. And realization isn’t a weight dropped on his chest, or the ground giving in under his feet, no; realization is a slow pressure, a shrinking tunnel, an exhale that left him too late to realize he wouldn’t be able to inhale again. 

He grabs for the cup with shaking fingers, grips it so tight he fears it might crack, and downs the rest of the drink. But the numbness is escaping him, slipping like sand between his fingers, and the haziness has given way to something much worse, to a quickly-beating heart and thoughts chasing themselves in circles. 

And all the wine does now is make him feel as if he’s only further drowning, further losing whatever grasp he has at himself. He still drinks. 

What can he tell her? That he wishes to be hurt, punished, for his weakness, for his faults? That he wishes to see what he has lost, what he never had, what he never will have?  

That he wants for the thoughts to stop, for the pain to stop, and he only knows how to escape them with this, with sex; but the memory of you lingers too close, a knife wedged next to his heart, for him to even consider enduring another’s touch tonight? 

He tells her the truth instead, and if instead of a command it sounds like an accusation, he does not care. 

“You love him.”  

It is all the instruction he can give. He does not know what love looks like, what love feels like, so even if she doesn’t either and the act is a poor one, Aegon won’t know the difference. 

The man and woman fall easily into the parts they must play, pressing their bodies together and sharing a deep kiss, letting their hands explore each other slowly, with the pace of two people with all the time in the world, with the calm of those who have promised each other a lifetime. Aegon watches, and the nakedness of their bodies does not seem lewd, instead it betrays an intimacy, a warmth, that makes the void in his chest awaken with an oppressive sort of longing. 

Aegon’s gaze lingers on him, on the ‘knight’. He finds he cannot look away, and it isn’t jealousy that overwhelms him, or anger; instead, all that fills his him at the sight is dread, and morbid fascination.  

The man’s fingers are buried within her, his lips at her throat, and Aegon feels as if a knife were slowly embedded somewhere within his chest. With each breath, the knife digs deeper, tears further at an old wound, and yet he doesn’t look away. Instead, his breath quickens. 

And he knows it’s an act, that they’re playing at sharing a love they do not know or have, but he doesn’t know it or have it either, and sitting here he only feels more alone.  

But he cannot join them. Because you do not want him. 

After what he isn’t sure if it is a moment or an eternity, darkened gazes flicker to him, awaiting his permission, his command, to go on, with quickened breaths. Though for a moment Aegon finds himself staring back, unmoored and uncertain, he quickly recovers and stutters a response to go on with it. 

The man grunts a curse against her breasts as he enters her in one swift motion, and she sighs at the feeling, hoarse little moan rumbling past her lips as she adjusts to having him inside her. 

They start moving together, and though the sight before him is an objectively alluring one, and if nothing else he should be able to focus on the sounds leaving their lips, on the sound and scent of sex filling the room, Aegon finds himself not even slightly aroused. 

Then again, he didn’t expect to. He might enjoy pain sometimes, and perhaps even seek it, but seeing a mirror -however muddied, however imperfect- of the woman he loves making love to someone else is something out of a nightmare, not something he might enjoy stroking his cock to.  

He didn’t think it’d hurt like this, though. He feels useless tears stinging at his eyes, and his breath hitches, because he expected it to hurt, but he didn’t think it’d torture him like this. 

And yet he can’t bring himself to stop them, feels undeserving of intruding upon their -your-, however false, love. With a breathed little laugh that only further blurs the lines between the reality of two paid whores acting out what he wants and the mirages of two people on the far end of the world, the woman switches their positions, straddling him. 

Unprompted, the man sits up, mouths at her neck as she aligns his cock with her cunt again. Slowly, sensually, she starts riding him. 

Aegon sniffles, tries hiding a stuttered breath, and leans forward. What he means to sound like an order, like an instruction, is voiced instead as a plea,  

“H-…I want you to hold him, while…while you ride him. Hold him against you.” 

She does as he commands, and the sight of their embrace is enough to force Aegon to look away, flinch away from pain as sharp as a hit. He reaches for the pitcher of wine, movements hurried and jittery, and pours himself another glass, uncaring that it spills. 

He gives another order, another command. One after another. He tells the man, for he is naught but a lucky fool that doesn’t even see the fortune bestowed upon him, how to touch you, how to make you feel good, how to make you his.  

They lose themselves in each other, waiting for no further instruction, exchanging caresses and kisses and breathed moans as they move together, as one. 

Aegon feels his composure, weak and brittle as it was already, begin to crumble. His hands grip at the armrests of the chair and tears burn at his eyes. He’s trembling, but neither of them stop, because neither of you notice, because you have each other, and he does not matter. 

He shakes his head, tries thinking clearly past the daze of alcohol and grief, and reminds himself it’s them. They’re strangers, they’re pretenders. He clings to that reminder. 

And yet each whispered word that they share, each shared breath, each tender touch, it feels as if it’s mocking him, taunting him with what he cannot have, what he can only watch from afar. 

The effect of the wine and the tears spilling from his eyes blur the edges of his vision, making the already stifling room seem smaller, the air thicker. Each breath feels pulled from his lungs, his body at the command of someone else, because he still cannot look away. 

He understands better than ever why Helaena presses her palms to her ears when the crowds get too loud. He wants nothing more than to cover his ears, close his eyes, hide himself and get away. Why is he here, why is he doing this? 

He doesn’t want this, he doesn’t want to see this. He doesn’t want this to happen. And yet he can’t stop watching, why can’t he stop this? 

She’s close to the edge, he can tell, and while he needs for this to be over, he cannot stand the thought of it at the same time. 

It is unbearable, and he stands from that chair, not to approach them but to step away. The room spins around him, his balance fails him, his voice fails him. 

She clings to him, hides her face in the knight’s neck and away from Aegon’s view. She looks like you, and she sounds like you, and he lost you he lost you he lost you. 

“Tell him you love him.” The voice is his, but not really, and he hears it from far away, from somewhere beyond the panicked cadence of his breaths, from a dream in which it is your love for him that Aegon asks to hear. 

You bring your knight closer to you, hand tangling in short tresses of chestnut hair. Your mouth is close to his ear, your voice a breath, a promise Aegon knows he shouldn’t be allowed to hear,  

“I love you.” 

You shatter, and so does Aegon. 

Her cry of pleasure and the knight’s mask the horrified sob that leaves Aegon’s chest at what he has done, at what he has tainted; and in their shared ecstasy they thankfully do not see him squeeze his eyes shut and cravenly look away, face crumpled in agony. 

He stumbles back onto the chair, some absent voice in the back of his mind reminding him it is unfitting of a prince to fall on the ground, that the people cannot see him on his knees. 

He thought he’d be in control, that if he commanded them, if he was… 

His thoughts matter not, what he expected matters not. The fantasy, painful as it was, has shattered, and the jagged pieces of it dig into him like glass. 

Aegon slumps in the chair, his body exhausted and worn. He feels used, wretched, and despite the weariness consuming his very bones, his mind remains restless, agitated. 

And the silence that lingers after they are done is worse, almost. He cannot bear to look at them.

“You…you can leave,” He tells them. A breath, two, and with a rush of energy he doesn’t have, Aegon stands up instead. The movement feels uneven, exaggerated, and he grabs at the back of the chair to keep himself from falling over. With his free hand, he gestures at them to stay where they are, and corrects himself, “I-I will leave. I’m…I’m the one intruding, am I not?” 

They don’t laugh, so he does. Or he tries to, but what leaves him is this manic little sound, this choked sob. 

He moves to leave the room, but he stumbles over his own feet, and thankfully catches himself on a nearby pillar. He needs to get out. 

Everything is too much, too bright, too loud, too painful, and he cannot escape it. In his head still resonates the breathed I love you. 

Why would you say that to him? He…he’s nothing, he doesn’t… 

No, no. Aegon squeezes his eyes shut and reminds himself that it wasn’t you, it was her. The impostor, that…that poor mimicry of you.  

And he instructed her to say that. Why did he do that? 

He wanted to fill the emptiness inside him, to…to quieten it all for a few moments, he didn’t want…he didn’t want this. But the void within him grows, and it hungers, and it tears away at pieces of him, breath by breath. 

He stumbles out of the pleasure house on trembling legs, but doesn’t make it far before his labored breaths become too quick, too uneven. The air that enters his lungs hurriedly, stutteringly, over and over, still isn’t enough for him to breathe. 

Aegon staggers into a nearby alley, clawing desperately at the brick wall in an attempt to keep himself grounded, to keep himself from breaking, from falling. 

He still does, between labored breaths and memories that taste of ash, he crumbles under the weight of his disgust and his hatred at himself, at what he does, at what he failed to do; and falls onto the cold ground. 

Back against the wall of the empty alley, Aegon brings his knees to his chest, and hugs them close to himself, head bowed and eyes shut tight as he tries forgetting.  

I would love to hear your thoughts on this! My askbox is always open for questions or comments, and soon I think I'll be taking requests.

I should have waited to post this (I posted the first chapter of Pirtir today) but I couldn't help myself. This was so fun to write. I find these themes really interesting, and I want to delve into them again in the future. I have some stuff planned but they're still a bit further ahead in the posting schedule.

Thank you for reading!

[nolita-fairytale]

pov: carmy makes people magazine's sexiest chef alive list

a/n: this is a little blurb inspired by ayo's incredible reaction to every interviewer ever asking her about jaw's calvin klein campaign.... if you haven't seen it, she just hides the photo or makes the funniest 'please don't bring this up' face while exclaiming: that's my boy! this is a work function! you can see it here (watch till the end you will not regret it ayo'sgettingpeoplefit@hotmail.com.co.uk -- it costs A LOT of money lmao). anyways, congrats to my golden globe winners eeeeeek!

riding the high of the bear's newest award: best restaurant great lakes, and buzzed on the best that veuve cliquot has to offer, as many staff members of the bear as possible have to come to celebrate at the james beard awards once again.

of course, you're hoping this year's afterparty will be a little less eventful -- not that you're mad at how last year's ended.

you, carmy, syd, richie, natalie, marcus, tina, and ebra are all gathered for an interview, answering questions about taking home the big win for the restaurant.

"last year chef sydney took home the rising star award, and this year it's best restaurant great lakes. how does it feel?" the interviewer, a well known and james beard-award winner herself, sophia roe asks as her cameraman follows closely behind.

"yeah, it's uh, wow. it's a huge accomplishment and we cannot be more honored to be taking this win home," sydney answers with a grin stretched far across her face.

it's surreal, for all of you, really.

"and chef carmy, i hear there's another congratulations in order," sophia continues. "you made people magazine's sexiest chef list this year and then shortly after, had a profile done in GQ."

nat groans in response while richie snickers, only too quick to whip out the screenshot he has on his phone of the article as carmy turns beet red.

"i uh... yeah. that was um... a surprise," he stammers his eyes shifting from the interviewer to you, and then to richie for a death glare.

"oh don't worry. i got it riiiiiiight here," richie says, eager to rush over to the interviewer and revel in carmy's embarrassment.

"oh put that away!!" sydney snaps, pushing richie's phone down.

"mixed reviews from the restaurant staff?" sophia asks curiously.

"looks like i'm the only proud of our guy," richie gloats, shooting you a look that causes your eyes to roll.

"no of course not!" sydney exclaims.

"it's just-, that's my brother!" natalie is quick to chime in, defending sydney.

"exactly. that's my boy! that's-, he's our-, this is our family," sydney explains passionately. "that's her brother." and then a quick gesture to you. "and that's her husband!"

"my what?!" you exclaim, caught off guard.

carmy snorts out a laugh in response to you while the interviewer and cameraman chuckle.

"sorry! that's her mans. that's her boyfriend, yknow?" sydney corrects herself with a laugh, before continuing to answer the interviewers question, this time with both marcus and richie to support.

"can't start any rumors, now can we?" you mutter under your breath, for only carmy to hear.

carmy only snakes his arm around your waist, hugging you closer to him this time.

"and if you ask me," you add, mischievously. "i'd be more than happy to tell everyone about your new accolade of 'sexiest chef alive' if i knew it wouldn't totally humiliate you."

carmy laughs dryly this time, "good thing syd jumped to my defense then first, babe."

"good thing."

[cwritesforfun]

Emperor Geta x Fem!Reader: Escape pt 2

Link to Part One ~> READ FIRST!!!

Y/N = Your First Name & L/N = Your Last Name

They will not follow the Roman style of speech - it will be written in modern language.

*I do not own the Gladiator 2 characters or plot* I do change some of the plot!!!

Masterlist

GIF from @freckledjoes - thx! @helsa3942 had some good ideas, too!

Y/N’s POV

You lead Emperor Geta to the bedroom and help him undress as you fill the bathtub with warm water. You have him wait in the bathroom as you request night clothes for him, food for both of you, and his things to be delivered to your room. You also ask for privacy. You have no idea if Geta will divulge any other information or what you two will be up to.

You receive a scroll with the latest news at night if something bad occurs. You open and read the words, "Emperor Calla has died. Macrinus seized power shortly after. Hanno, who is actually Lucius Verus Aurelius, has taken control and now leads Rome." You need to tell Geta, but when? He seems so fragile, and what if he wishes to return to Rome?

You walk back into the bathroom and see Geta in the bathtub. You walk over, bend down next to him, and say, “You look peaceful, Geta.” He looks at you, softly smiles, and says, “You should get in with me.” You reply, "Fine, since you asked nicely." You feel his eyes tracking your movements as you change and step into the tub with him. You lean your back against his chest, and he wraps his arms around you. You both talk softly before you wash each other. You notice small cuts and bruises across his skin, but you don't ask him about them yet.

You dress in new clothes, and Geta takes your hand as you walk to the bedroom. You see the food and lead him to the couch so you can eat a little. He sits next to you, and you both eat some food.

You lay down on your bed and pat the space next to you for Geta. He climbs in bed and collapses with his head on your chest. He picks it up to kiss you on your hand and says, "Let's never be parted again, love. I don't think I can bear it. You complete me." You reply, "You can stay as long as you wish. You're always welcome here." He softly asks, "And what if I never want to leave?"

You ask, "What really happened in Rome, Geta? You told me that you faked your death and how your brother thought he killed you. But, I also see the cuts and bruises on you that tell another story." He answers, "It started a few months ago when General Acacius came home after taking over Numidia for Calla & I. I could tell it was different this time because I could see we were losing the support of the General. However, I didn't voice these opinions to Calla because he had enough on his plate, or I thought he did... I needed a release, and I was tired of everything, so I invited a girl back to my bedroom. She was a nobody, and I accidentally confided in her. I don't know what I was thinking. The next morning, I woke up to Calla and Dundus standing there. They attacked me, and the guards did nothing. I should have left and come here then ... but I hoped there was still some good in my brother. I was wrong. The fights at the Coliseum were getting louder, and the Romans were rooting for this guy named Hanno." He takes a deep breath and continues, "I heard rumors that General Acacius and others were plotting against my brother and me. We locked him up for treason, and Calla started acting out more. I tried to keep the peace, but it just wasn't working. This man, Macrinus, started showing up and whispering in Calla's ear about me. That's when I set my escape plan in motion. One of the good things about being Emperor is the endless resources that you have at your disposal. At first, I wanted to make my head out of cake, and he's crazy enough that he'd think it was real. But I knew Macrinus would know something was up. So, I did something that I'm not proud of. I found a guy who looked like me who was up to compete in the Coliseum, and I told him to just sleep in my bed to pretend to be me. I told him all he had to do was sleep there, and I'd pay him handsomely. I gave him some of my clothes, and that night, I snuck out. I threw on a brown cloak that some soldiers wear, and I went near the water to the safe house you told me about. The man, Titus, kept me hidden for the rest of that night and the next day in his small home. We set sail the next night, and by then, we'd heard that everyone was claiming I was dead and that my head was brought to the Senate meeting. I feel horrible for the guy in my place, but he was going to die anyway in the arena... You know the rest. The journey was long and cold, but I'm here."

You're shocked. Horrified. Terrified. Stressed. Sad. Angry.

Geta sits up and asks, "Hey uh Y/N, is everything okay?" You answer, "Uh I have something upsetting to tell you." He asks, "What?" You grab the scroll and hand it to him to read. His eyes widen, and he looks in shock. You say, "I um... I understand if you have to return home." He asks, "What's left for me in Rome but my enemies and a land of disease? You are my home and my future. Rome means nothing to me, especially now that you're in my life." You place your hand in his and ask, "When did you get so romantic?" He moves closer to you and answers, "When I realized I let the love of my life return to her home, and we were not together. I had to read poetry and other works to better express my love for you." You reply, "Well I love you too, Geta. I always have." He leans in and you both kiss.

You stay up late talking until you're both yawning.

At some point, in the cold, dark night, you wake up to feel fidgeting next to you, and Geta seems to be fighting a nightmare. He is whispering out loud, "Stay back. Don't hurt me. Don't hurt her." You lightly shake Geta and say, "Geta, love, you're safe." He turns quickly and you say, "Geta, love, everything is okay." He pulls you close to him and says, "I thought someone was going to execute us together for loving each other. Everyone was mad at you for liking me and they were mad at me for Rome." You softly rub the back of his hand in circles and reply, "You're okay, and I'm okay. No one will be mad at us for loving each other. Even if they are, I'm the Queen, and they cannot influence who I choose to love. My guards are loyal to me and always working, so we're safe. I take several precautions for my safety, and the safety of my guests." He replies, "I bet your people love you as the Queen." You reply, "They do, and they will learn to love you with time. We can talk about that after you get to rest, though. You had a long journey and need to sleep more." He replies, "I love you." You say, "I love you too."

Taglist: @ziggeddie & @helsa3942

Should I write a part three after he adjusts to a new land and new position ???

[ekybrini]

MASTERLIST

last updated: 04/06/25

hiii!!! this is where all of my previous works can be found. I will be happy to write about any player that is requested in my inbox that is not on this list. If I started to write more often I will most definitely create a separate masterlist for each player that I wrote for.

𓂃⋆.˚ NHL MASTERLIST !

ᥫ᭡ fluff

꣑ৎ angst

⭑ series

new jersey devils

→ jack hughes⁸⁶

slipping through my fingers ⭑꣑ৎ (part one)

in which y/n and Jake childhood best friends who've always had something there for each other. But once jack gets drafted everything changed for both of them.

slipping through your fingers (jacks pov) ⭑꣑ৎ

Jack's pov. in which y/n and Jake childhood best friends who've always had something there for each other. But once he gets drafted everything changed for both of them.

i love you, im sorry ⭑꣑ৎ ᥫ᭡ (part two)

After the breakup, you spend the summer at the Hughes' lake house, trying to move on while Jack lingers in the background, never pushing but always there in small, unspoken ways. Slowly, the anger fades into something more complicated, and as the summer stretches on, you’re forced to confront the one thing you’ve been avoiding .

→ luke hughes⁴³

back to strangers ꣑ৎ

Libby Carter, a college student who has sworn off any athletes after hearing the amount of rumors of how they treat people. When Luke Hughes, a persistent hockey player, starts pursuing her as part of a bet with his friends, Libby is determined to keep her distance. But as they spend more time together, she starts to question whether his feelings are real or just part of the game.

→ nico hischier¹³

→ timo meier²⁸

→ dawson mercer⁹¹

san jose sharks

→ william eklund⁷²

→ macklin celebrini⁷¹

→ will smith²

alienated ꣑ৎ ᥫ᭡

After overhearing hurtful comments you start pulls away from Will, feeling insecure. Will’s confused by your silence, not knowing what went wrong, while you struggles with your feelings and the doubts creeping in.

→ henry thrun³

anaheim ducks

→ trevor zegras¹¹

columbus blue jackets

→ adam fantilli¹⁹

→ cole sillinger⁴

vancouver canucks

→ quinn hughes⁴³

→ brock boeser⁶

→ elias pettersson⁴⁰

→ victor mancini⁹⁰

[monosanimegenericzone]

WB!HxH AU: MASTERPOST

Basic Worldbuilding

Canon to Wind Breaker (as far as I can understand so it's probably incorrect): The town of Makochi is a violent place. Gangs and thieves ruled the streets until recently, a gang made of the students of Furin High School took it into their own hands to protect their town "All who holds evil in their heart will be purged by Bofurin without exception!"

HxH AU comes in two flavors:

Canon Insert: Makochi has a dark district, 流星 Ryuusei, on the other side of the river where high profile gangs and actual mafias exchange business. The police force is often preoccupied in this district, opposed to Makochi and other territories.

HxH total Takeover: I just rewrite Wind Breaker but with PT members lmao. and make the entire thing much darker for the hxh flair. Told from Gon or Killua's POV

幻影 Gen'ei. A new and rowdy gang of 21 members that have quickly earned a reputation for themselves. There are rumors that the members all come from the local high school, affectionately named 火口 "Kakou." They have good intentions, as far as anyone can tell. They stop robberies, break up fights, beat up thugs. But, like their town, they aren't afraid of shedding blood... or even killing.

"Fight to kill. And if that doesn't stop them, bring them Death."

COMBAT TEAMS

Team Shatter: Uvogin, Nobunaga, Machi and Sheila

Team Fang: Phinks, Feitan, Peroyin and Shalnark

Team Frenzy: Illumi, Sarasa, Canary and Kalluto

Team Death: Franklin, Bonolenov, Kiki and Kortopi

RECON TEAM

Pakunoda, Sheila, Shalnark, Kalluto, Kortopi

CLEANUP TEAM

Shizuku, Omokage, Shalnark

Every member wears a jacket with black sleeves and dark blue bodies. They are numbered 0-20 and personalized with a word of power or symbolism. And on the front is a stitched in button with the word "spider" written on it.

*slight edit made in post. the spider on the back is the 12 legged spider as seen in hunter x hunter.

if you want to know more information about the au that wasn't included in this- including plot questions bcs i have several plots- drop an ask in my ask box. i'm happy to answer :3

Meet the Phantom Brigade

(we got 20 characters. this is going under the cut. this gon be L O N G)

0 - Chrollo Lucilfer ** "Danchou/Boss" ** 1st Year

Entered high school early and actually attends classes. Does his part to look for permanent change for his town, but even he has to admit that it's frustrating.

Hands on brawler and has a vicious front kick. If pressed, also carries a switchblade. 13th strongest of the gang.

1 - Nobunaga Hazama ** "Jinsoku/Swift" ** 3rd year

Laid back dude with a passion for martial arts. Avid member of the local kendo club and even studied iaido as a fine art.

Usually the last from his squad to engage. Prefers one on one fights rather than brawls. Carries a real katana- that no one knows where he got it from- and does know how to use it. 14th strongest of the gang.

2 - Feitan Portor ** "Fukushuu/Revenge" ** 2nd year

Violinist. And that's about it. Gives most of his free time to music, but otherwise chooses to spend his days fighting.

Brutally sadistic fighter. Enjoys mocking his opponents or- if he's in a particularly good mood- breaking their bones one by one. Carries a heavy umbrella as a side piece, but usually goes into fights bare handed. 10th strongest in the gang.

3 - Machi Komachine ** "Tenshi/Angel" ** 2nd year

The only one who took a First Aid course and therefore the only one who knows how to properly respond to serious injury. Her legal guardian is also the local pharmacist (Renko), which makes her the default "doctor" if any of them get hurt- much to her chagrin.

Learned to fight from Nobunaga and has progressed much further in combat. Usually has to keep her idiots in check and has enough raw strength to back up her words. 7th strongest in the gang

4 - Sarasa ** "Reikoku/Ruthless" ** 1st year

Gymnast, theatre kid, ray of sunshine if that ray was put through a magnifying glass and is killing all the ants. Has a reputation of being stubbornly optimistic to the point of punching people that disagree with her and refuse to be happy.

Usually fights with a metal bat- that she's lovingly decorated with pink stickers. Vocal about picking fights and often gets into unwarranted trouble if her team isn't there to reel her in. 11th strongest in the gang.

5 - Phinks Macgub ** "Kyoujin/Strength" ** 2nd year

Raised with a boxing family and has taken a liking to the sport as a hobby. Incredibly selfless otherwise and has the scars to prove it.

Grappler type of fighter- despite the boxing background- and talks with his fists. Any excuse he has to throw hands, he will throw hands. Carries brass knuckles in case of emergency but rarely needs them. 2nd strongest in the gang

6 - Shalnark Ryusei ** "Keimyou/Witty" ** 2nd year

If "left to your own devices" was a person and also a threat to humanity. Used his insomnia to his advantage and became a proficient tinkerer and coder. Made a lot of the gang's electronics from cellphones to drones to modified cameras.

Prefers not to get his hands dirty. Where he lacks in technique he makes up for in brute-like strength. 15th strongest in the gang

7 - Franklin Bordeau ** "Seido/Accurate" ** 3rd year

First hand witness to violent crime and has the scars to prove it. Desensitized to gun violence specifically, but doesn't let it affect his stance as a really down-to-earth guy.

Sparring partner for Nobunaga and Uvogin and learned hand to hand from them. But his primary method of combat is just the simple handgun. Last resort fighter and will always fight to kill. 3rd strongest in the gang.

8 - Sheila ** "Shite/Protagonist" ** 1st year

Theatre kid taken traumatic. Has a near-toxic hero complex and is almost always the first boots on the ground when the team is facing adversity. Probably this close to having a mental breakdown.

Despite appearances, she is incredibly strong. Doesn't have a distinct style but a single punch is enough to shut anyone up. 5th strongest in the gang.

9 - Pakunoda ** "Mugen/Infinity" ** 2nd year

The eldest child of four adopted siblings (Chrollo, Sarasa and Sheila). Also actively attends classes with the eventual goal of becoming a teacher.

Doesn't usually engage in close combat. The gang's interrogator and skilled negotiator. Incredibly protective of the gang. Can and will use the pistol she carries if tested. 17th strongest in the gang.

10 - Bonolenov Ndongo ** "Meichou/Songbird" ** 2nd year

Rescued by the gang after being kicked out of the house and earning a street name for himself. Lost several teeth to brawls and now has his lips pierced as an "I fucking dare you to hit me in my face." Lives with Phinks now and has taken a liking to classical music.

Trained in pole arms and boxes with Phinks on the side. Called as a last resort fighter. As a member of the Death squad, he is usually called in when bodies need to hit the floor. Makes clean kills and of the 3 on the squad, is the only one capable of holding back. 8th strongest in the gang.

11 - Uvogin ** "Seiryoku/Force" ** 3rd year

A tank and proud of it. Fiercely territorial and his presence alone is enough to scare people away from him. Enjoys street food and is well beloved by the vendors on main street.

Has incredibly tough skin through- what we can only assume- is genetics. And he is incredibly strong. Anyone stupid enough to pick a fight with him has about 10 seconds to reconsider their life choices before their chin is going into the stratosphere. THE strongest in the gang.

12 - Kortopi Tonosumil ** "Jiseki/Vestige" ** 1st year *'jiseki' probably subject to change. i dont think i like it

Collects trinkets. Has the weirdest trophy collection that no one can understand other than himself. Born and raised in the town and knows the name of every street, shop and building in the area. Has photographic memory.

Doesn't usually fight. However, has learned self defense and if someone wants to fuck with him they better hope he's bare handed or he will use the environment to play as dirty as possible. 20th strongest in the gang (weakest).

13 - Illumi Zoldyck ** "Fukitsu/Ominous" ** 3rd year

In his "fuck the police" era. His dad is a cop. Originally joined to join the effort to make the town safer for his younger brothers, but then realized that he might actually be a terrible role model for them instead. Unsure if he regrets it or not

Engages in chemical warfare. Uses tranquilizer darts without the gun, or just pushpins coated in similar serum. 4th strongest in the gang.

14 - Shizuku Murasaki ** "Bitoku/Virtue" ** 1st year

Head of cleanup efforts. In or out of the gang, she also leads community cleanups for the local middle and elementary schools. Also enjoys sweets and can be easily bribed with chocolates or strawberry candies.

Usually carries around a hammer. But will also use an assortment of blunt weaponry to deadly efficiency. Puts googly eyes on the weapons she keeps and has them all named after video game characters. 18th strongest in the gang

15 - (OC) Peroyin ** "Kotetsu/Steel" ** 1st year

Born without a right arm. Was also born right handed. Has an insanely inflated ego and will sometimes blindfold herself to give her opponents a "handicap." Has been talked out of doing that several times.

Dirty fighter. With the obvious handicap already in play, she will use any method necessary to win. Which usually includes headbutts or bites. 6th strongest in the gang.

16 - Kalluto Zoldyck ** "Inzen/Secret" ** Middle School

The result of Illumi's terrible role model skills. The first new member to replace an old one. Hisoka was the original 16, but he graduated highschool and moved away. This is indicated by a red stitch on his right sleeve.

Doesn't actively fight and instead runs drone surveillance. But, he does carry about 15 knives on the inside of his coat that Illumi forces him to carry at all times. For his own safety of course. 16th strongest in the gang

17 - Omokage ** "Kouken/Guardian" ** 3rd year

Takes care of his disabled sister after school. Doesn't actively participate in gang activity but offers his support and proudly wears their colors. Works in the local tailor's shop.

Can defend himself, but doesn't actively look for, nor engage in, fights. Wears studded rings in case he does need to punch someone. 19th strongest in the gang

18 - (OC not mine) Kiki ** "Gihen/Deception" ** 1st year

Uvogin's nephew. No he cannot see (he can but he needs heavy prescription glasses)

Youngest member of Death, yet is the second most deadly. Prefers a hands on approach to combat and will usually discard his glasses in brawls to distance himself from his victims. And yes, they do become victims. Goes for throats, eyes or open wounds. 9th strongest in the gang.

19 - Canary ** "Keigo/Security" ** 1st year

Daughter of a family friend of the Zoldycks. Recruited through recommendation and is thriving. She and Sarasa also get along amazingly well.

Uses a cane as a weapon. Brutally efficient despite her short stature. Can reach vitals with insane accuracy and often leaves her enemies folded in half or puking their guts out. The lucky ones get away with broken jaws and black eyes.

20 - [Empty] ** " " ** [ ]

[yoomiwrites]

Sweet Innocence

Summary: Princess Y/N’s kingdom is falling apart, and her family’s only hope is her marriage to a cruel, old king. Desperate, she makes a reckless choice one night—and wakes up in Niji Vinsmoke’s bed. Now, caught between a dangerous engagement and Niji’s growing interest, Y/N must navigate a deadly game of survival where one wrong move could cost her everything.

Note: A new story? Yes, sorry. But I had the idea while playing Bounty Rush and had to write it. Bare with me. ;-; Already wrote 3 chapters of this one, but it will get slow updates. Also trying to make the read-flow better with some bold Highlights. Long chapters! I used Google as help for fancy names, hit me up if you know where they're from.

Third-person pov. Female Reader. Sensitive topics. Hard language. Slight Gore. Slow Updates. Enemies to lovers. Sex mentioned. Forced marriage. Death mentioned.

The Kingdom of Velderis had always been a jewel among the southern realms—a land of rich history, golden coastlines, and a proud naval fleet that commanded both respect and fear across the seas. Nestled between towering, mist-kissed cliffs and sprawling fields of wildflowers, the kingdom’s capital, Eldoria, stood as a monument to centuries of wealth and power. At sunrise, the city’s marble domes and copper spires gleamed like fire against the sky, and the scent of salt and citrus drifted through its cobbled streets.

For generations, Velderis had thrived under the rule of King Eldric and Queen Selene, their governance blessed with prosperity and an unshakable alliance with the great naval forces of the region. The people of Velderis lived well; merchants boasted of the finest silks and spices from distant lands, and the harbors were always bustling with trade ships. Knights patrolled the city with pride, and even the poorest citizens rarely went hungry. It was a kingdom built on strength and diplomacy, and for years, it had seemed untouchable.

But gold does not last forever.

Princess Y/N had spent most of her childhood blissfully unaware of the slow decay creeping through her family’s empire. She had lived as any princess should—dancing barefoot through the palace gardens, racing horses along the sea cliffs, and sneaking away from her lessons whenever the opportunity arose. The world had felt endless in those days, filled with color and warmth, and she had never once thought to question the security of her home.

She and her sister, Hitomi, had been raised in privilege but not in cruelty. Their parents were not the kind to lock them away in gilded cages or deny them the joys of youth. Queen Selene, ever graceful and wise, had taught them kindness before etiquette, while King Eldric, though impulsive at times, was a man who adored his daughters fiercely. His booming laughter could shake the very halls of the palace, and when he wasn’t tangled in matters of state, he was lifting them onto his shoulders or telling them stories of battles fought and won.

Yet even the strongest of men cannot stop the tide of time.

Y/N had first begun to notice the shift in the kingdom’s fortune when the feasts grew smaller. At first, it was subtle—certain dishes missing from the banquet tables, a quiet decrease in the servants attending them. The once-lavish festivals of Eldoria became less extravagant, and the royal family made fewer appearances outside the castle walls.

Then came the rumors.

She would hear them whispered among the maids as they folded linens, spoken in hushed tones by the palace guards when they thought no one was listening. The kingdom was in debt. The once-mighty fleet of Velderis had weakened, unable to keep up with the growing military power of rival nations. Trade agreements were failing. Coin was slipping through the cracks faster than it could be replenished.

By the time Y/N was sixteen, she could no longer ignore it. She had seen her mother’s quiet worry, the way her father’s temper had grown shorter. She had watched Hitomi’s perfect composure falter when their parents sat them down and explained the truth—Velderis was on the verge of collapse. Their noble status meant nothing without wealth, and if they did not act soon, their family’s legacy would crumble into dust.

And so, a decision was made.

Hitomi, the elder daughter, the beauty of the family, was to be wed to a prince of GERMA—a powerful and militaristic empire whose name alone struck both admiration and fear across the seas. It was an advantageous match, a way to secure an alliance that could restore Velderis’ strength. The engagement was arranged swiftly, and while Hitomi had not protested, Y/N had seen the sharp glint of resentment in her sister’s usually calm eyes.

But Y/N’s fate was far worse.

Her marriage was not to be a political alliance of status, nor a romantic tale of duty and love. No, her betrothal had been arranged to a widowed king, a man of great wealth and military strength but of no charm, no youth, and no kindness. He was known across the region for his cold nature and calculating mind, a man who had already buried two wives and sought a new, young bride to bear him heirs.

The worst part? It was not her beauty that had sealed the deal.

No one compared her to Hitomi, whose face was a thing of delicate, sculpted perfection. Y/N was neither as poised nor as graceful; her hands were calloused from climbing trees and handling horses, her laughter too loud for the refinement expected of a princess.

But that was exactly why she had been chosen. Because she was innocent.

Because her father, desperate to secure Velderis' survival, had gambled with her very life.

And he had lost.

One week after her twenty-first birthday, Y/N arrived at GERMA, a floating fortress that defied the very laws of nature.

It was not a kingdom in the traditional sense—no lush valleys, no grand palaces carved into the hillsides, no gentle rivers winding through quaint villages. GERMA was a nation built atop warships, a fleet so massive it could swallow entire naval forces whole. It moved across the sea like a living thing, an ever-shifting empire of steel and thunder, where politics were decided by power, and alliances were sealed in blood.

The royal vessel from Velderis docked at one of GERMA’s sprawling platforms, an expanse of blackened metal and towering, gold-plated buildings that shimmered beneath the midday sun. It was eerily quiet, save for the low hum of machinery and the rhythmic crash of waves against the hull. There were no bustling markets, no street performers filling the air with song—only the constant movement of soldiers in crisp uniforms, their faces unreadable beneath their helmets.

For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt small.

She had traveled before, seen neighboring kingdoms with their own unique beauty, but GERMA was something else entirely. It was a war machine, a kingdom of conquest, and its people lived under a different set of rules—ones dictated by strength, not diplomacy.

It was also where her sister’s fate would be sealed.

The entire reason for their visit was to finalize Hitomi’s engagement. Their father, ever the tactician, had insisted on traveling with them to ensure that the arrangements were to his liking. Their mother had gone to serve as a mediator, while Hitomi… well, Hitomi had no choice but to follow.

Y/N had been invited to the political gathering as well—her presence was expected, after all—but she had refused.

Not openly, of course. She hadn’t thrown a fit or dramatically stormed away. She had simply declined in the same quiet way she always did when something made her uncomfortable. "I’ll just get in the way," she had said, offering a small smile, though no one believed that was the reason.

Her father had sighed but hadn't pushed. Her mother had given her a knowing look but had said nothing. And Hitomi—perfect, elegant Hitomi—had simply nodded as if she understood.

So while her family disappeared into the depths of GERMA’s grand warship, where political discussions and marital negotiations were being handled behind closed doors, Y/N stayed behind.

And she fed the seagulls.

She sat on the edge of the docking platform, legs swinging over the side as she absentmindedly tossed bits of stale bread to the hungry birds. The seagulls were fearless here, darting dangerously close, their sharp beaks snapping at the crumbs before they could hit the water.

The sea was calmer than she had expected—an endless stretch of deep blue, reflecting the golden light of the late afternoon. From this vantage point, she could see the rest of GERMA's fleet scattered across the horizon, each massive warship interconnected by thick metal. It was a floating empire unlike any other, but Y/N found no beauty in it. It was cold, unyielding, built for battle rather than for life.

She sighed, tearing off another piece of bread and flicking it toward the birds.

She was delaying the inevitable.

Once Hitomi’s engagement was settled, her family would return to Velderis, and she would not be going with them. Instead, she would be sent to another kingdom, one far less impressive than GERMA but no less powerful. A kingdom where her future husband was waiting.

She still hadn't said his name out loud.

A chill ran through her despite the warmth of the sun. The very thought of him, a man she had never met, made her stomach twist. She knew only the whispers—the rumors of his ruthlessness, the cold efficiency with which he had ruled. He was rich beyond reason, his army unmatched, his kingdom fortified and untouchable. But that wealth and power had come at a cost, and it was said that the women he married did not live long enough to enjoy it.

Her fingers tightened around the last piece of bread.

She could still run.

It was a foolish thought, a childish fantasy, but it lingered in the back of her mind all the same. She had never been a coward, but this was different. This was her life being sold away like some political bargaining chip, her freedom exchanged for a kingdom’s survival.

But if she ran, Velderis would fall.

Her father had been clear—without her marriage, their kingdom would collapse under the weight of its debt. Their enemies would seize the opportunity to strike, their allies would turn their backs, and soon, Velderis would be nothing more than a fading memory in history books.

And so, she would marry him.

Not because she wanted to.

But because she had no choice.

She exhaled slowly, finally throwing the last piece of bread into the sea. The seagulls fought over it, screeching and snapping, and she watched them without really seeing them. Her fate was sealed. There was no escape.

But still…

A voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Hmmmm..?”

Y/N blinked, turning her head sharply. She hadn’t heard anyone approach, but now, standing just a few feet away, was a man she instantly recognized—Niji Vinsmoke.

His posture was almost lazily arrogant, hands in his pockets, head tilted slightly as he studied her with an expression caught somewhere between boredom and mild curiosity.

Y/N swallowed, suddenly aware of how alone they were. She wasn’t sure if he had been sent to fetch her, or if he had stumbled upon her by accident, but she had a sinking feeling that it didn’t matter.

Because unlike her, Niji Vinsmoke was not trapped.

He was free.

And for the first time in a long time, Y/N felt something dangerously close to jealousy.

For a long moment, Y/N said nothing.

She simply stared at Niji, taking in the sharp, effortless confidence in the way he stood, the glint of amusement hidden just beneath the surface of his smirk.

He looked every bit the prince of GERMA—tailored suit, pristine and likely worth more than most people’s yearly income, the dark fabric perfectly fitted to his broad frame. A high-collared cape draped over one shoulder, fastened with gold accents that caught the light. His signature sunglasses rested on the bridge of his nose, hiding his eyes completely. Even so, she could feel him watching her, assessing her with the same cool detachment one might have for a mildly interesting insect.

And yet, despite all of that, despite the unmistakable weight of his presence—she didn’t feel the need to bow.

Instead, she let out a slow breath and looked back at the sea. “You’re not very polite.”

The corners of his mouth twitched, a near-smirk that didn’t quite form. “And you’re not very subtle,” he replied. “But I think we’ve already established that.”

Y/N ignored him, focusing instead on the distant waves, her fingers brushing absentmindedly against the cool metal of the platform beneath her. It was easier than looking at him, easier than acknowledging the fact that she was speaking so freely to someone she probably shouldn’t.

GERMA was dangerous.

Everyone knew that.

Its princes were dangerous—weapons first, men second. Raised for war, hardened by battle, with no need for sentiment or mercy. She had heard the stories, knew what kind of people the Vinsmokes were. And yet, here she was, trading words with one of them like it was the most natural thing in the world.

She should have been afraid.

But instead, she found herself irritated.

He was still standing there, still watching her with that air of detached amusement, as if waiting for her to crack first.

So she turned back to him, arms crossing over her chest. “Shouldn’t you be at the meeting?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow. “Or do Germa princes get to skip out on their royal duties?”

Niji huffed out something that might have been a laugh. “The trial ended ten minutes ago,” he said, slipping one hand into his pocket. “But I’ll be sure to let my father know you’re so concerned about our political affairs.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “You don’t need to.”

“Oh?” He tilted his head slightly, as if studying her through the tinted glass of his sunglasses. “And what exactly are you doing out here, then? Feeding the seagulls? Hiding from something?”

Her fingers twitched, but she didn’t react. She wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

Instead, she reached for the last remaining crumbs of bread, tossing it toward the water with deliberate ease. “Not everyone enjoys sitting through hours of royal negotiations,” she said. “Some of us prefer fresh air.”

His smirk widened just a fraction.

“You talk much for a servant.”

She froze for half a second.

Then, slowly, she turned to face him fully. “Excuse me?”

He shrugged, as if the matter was of no real importance. “You’re dressed plain,” he said, gesturing lazily at her attire. “And you’re out here alone, wasting time with birds while everyone else is inside doing something actually productive. Not exactly a princess-like image, is it?”

She clenched her jaw.

Of course. Of course he would make such an assumption.

Unlike Hitomi, she had never cared much for the delicate, embroidered gowns or elaborate hairstyles their station demanded. She preferred practicality—a simple yet elegant tunic, high boots built for movement, and a cloak that shielded her from the ocean breeze. And now, apparently, that was enough for him to assume she was beneath him.

Her pride flared like a spark catching fire.

“I am Princess Y/N of Velderis,” she said coolly, her chin lifting just slightly. “The second daughter of King Eldric and Queen Selene.”

She expected shock, or maybe a hint of embarrassment.

Instead, Niji merely raised an eyebrow, adjusting his sunglasses. “Huh,” he said, as if it was the most unimpressive thing he had ever heard.

She grit her teeth.

“And,” she continued, voice clipped, “what I wear is none of your business.”

That, at least, earned her a short chuckle.

“Well,” Niji said, taking a slow step forward, just enough to lean in slightly, his voice dropping into something mockingly conspiratorial. “If you don’t want people mistaking you for a servant, maybe don’t dress like one.”

She stiffened.

A low, simmering frustration burned in her chest, but she bit her tongue, forcing herself to stay composed. He wanted a reaction—expected one, even. But she wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

Instead, she turned on her heel, stepping away from the platform’s edge.

“I should go,” she muttered under her breath.

“Good idea,” Niji said smoothly, watching her with that same infuriating smirk. “Wouldn’t want your future husband to think you’ve gone missing.”

That made her pause.

Just for a fraction of a second.

He didn’t know who she was engaged to. He was only poking, testing—but the fact that he even mentioned it at all sent a wave of cold realization through her.

She wasn’t free.

Not like him. Not like any of the people walking around this kingdom built on steel and war.

Her fingers curled into fists, but she didn’t turn back. She simply kept walking, her steps quick and purposeful as she made her way back toward the ship where her family was waiting.

Behind her, Niji let out a soft laugh—one that carried just enough amusement to let her know he had won this round.

Y/N didn’t stop walking until she reached the ship.

Her heart was still beating faster than she’d like, her frustration from her exchange with Niji lingering like an unwelcome guest in her chest. She had half a mind to throw something overboard—maybe one of those expensive, gold-plated goblets the GERMA royal family probably drank out of, just to watch it sink into the abyss.

But that wouldn’t change anything.

Her fate was sealed, and no amount of frustration could undo the chains her family had wrapped around her wrists.

She stepped onto the deck of their royal ship, brushing past a few familiar guards who offered quick bows as she made her way to the cabins. She needed to see Hitomi. Needed to know how things had gone, what decisions had been made behind closed doors, how much longer she would have her sister by her side before they were both married off to men they barely knew.

She found Hitomi in her cabin, seated by the large, ornately carved vanity table near the window. The room was filled with the soft golden glow of the evening sun, casting a warm light over the space, but Y/N felt no comfort in it.

Hitomi glanced up as she entered. “Oh, you’re back,” she noted, voice light.

Y/N wasted no time. “Well?” she demanded, shutting the door behind her. “What happened? What was decided?”

Hitomi let out a small hum, tilting her head slightly as she picked up a silver hairbrush, running it through the long, sleek strands of her dark hair. She looked... calm. Even pleased.

Y/N narrowed her eyes.

“Well,” Hitomi said at last, “the wedding is scheduled for two weeks from now.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped slightly. Two weeks. That was fast.

Too fast.

“But,” Hitomi continued, “it seems they haven’t decided who I should marry yet.”

Y/N frowned, stepping further into the room. “What do you mean?”

Hitomi set her brush down, turning in her chair to face her fully. “Father and Mr. Vinsmoke couldn’t come to an agreement,” she said, a faint, knowing smile curving her lips. “Father wants me to marry Ichiji, but Mr. Vinsmoke isn’t ready to give up his eldest son so easily. They’re still… negotiating.”

Y/N stared at her. “And you’re fine with that?”

Hitomi shrugged one delicate shoulder. “I suppose,” she said airily. “I’ll be married to one of them regardless.”

Y/N clenched her jaw. “And you’re okay with that?”

That earned her a small, amused glance. “They’re more attractive than I expected,” Hitomi admitted, leaning back against her seat. “I don’t suppose it really matters which one I end up with, as long as he’s not a bore.”

Y/N’s hands curled into fists. How? How could she be so calm about this? How could she act as though she were picking out a new gown instead of a husband?

“This is a marriage, Hitomi,” she said sharply. “Not some game.”

Hitomi’s faint smile faltered for the first time.

For a brief second, something flickered in her dark eyes—something that looked almost like sadness. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced once more with that same calm, unreadable expression.

“It is a game, Y/N,” she said softly. “We just don’t get to make the rules.”

Y/N swallowed hard.

She hated that answer.

She hated that it was true.

Hitomi sighed, shifting slightly in her seat, her gaze drifting toward the open window. The sea stretched endlessly before them, shimmering in the fading sunlight. “But we’re not here to talk about me, are we?” she mused. “I suppose you’d rather talk about your upcoming wedding, hm?”

Y/N went rigid.

Hitomi tilted her head slightly, her voice turning almost too casual. “To King Zeang of Malvera.”

Y/N’s stomach twisted at the sound of his name.

Zeang.

Y/N turned away, gripping the back of a nearby chair. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

But Hitomi only studied her, expression thoughtful. “You should,” she said. “You should talk about it.”

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut. “There’s nothing to talk about,” she muttered. “The decision has been made.”

Hitomi’s voice turned quiet. “You don’t have to go through with it.”

Y/N let out a bitter laugh, turning back to her. “And what do you suggest?” she asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. “That I run away and doom our kingdom to collapse?”

Hitomi’s gaze was steady. “No,” she said. “I’m suggesting that maybe, just maybe, we could find someone else to marry instead.”

Y/N frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Hitomi exhaled slowly, rising to her feet. She walked over to the window, fingers resting lightly against the frame as she stared out at the vast expanse of the ocean.

“You know,” she said after a moment, “Zeang never kept his previous wives for long.”

Y/N stiffened. “I’m aware.”

Hitomi’s fingers curled slightly. “And do you know what they all had in common?”

Silence.

Y/N’s heart thumped loudly in her chest.

Hitomi turned to her, eyes dark and serious. “They were all innocent.”

A heavy, suffocating silence filled the space between them.

Y/N’s breath caught.

Hitomi watched her closely, as if waiting for something to click.

And then, softly—almost gently—she repeated it.

“If you weren’t innocent, he wouldn’t marry you either.”

Y/N’s hands went cold.

She stared at her sister, trying to understand exactly what she was implying, exactly what she was suggesting. But her mind was moving too fast, emotions crashing into each other like waves in a storm.

“That’s—” she began, but she didn’t even know what she was trying to say.

Hitomi sighed, stepping closer, placing a delicate hand on her shoulder. “Think about it,” she said, voice softer now. “Our kingdom needs this marriage, yes. But if you were… disqualified, they’d simply have to find someone else, wouldn’t they?”

Y/N swallowed hard.

Her mind reeled.

She had spent so long believing that she had no choice, that she was trapped in a fate she couldn’t escape. But now, for the first time, there was something else.

Something dangerous.

Something…possible.

Hitomi gave her shoulder a light squeeze before stepping back. “Just something to consider,” she murmured.

And with that, she returned to her seat, picking up her brush once more as if the conversation had never happened.

But Y/N?

Y/N stood frozen, her world suddenly spinning in an entirely new direction.

The party was louder than expected.

Y/N had thought it would be a simple gathering, something dignified and restrained, given that it was meant to honor the unity of two powerful nations. But of course, this was GERMA 66—a kingdom that was anything but dignified.

It was a riot of noise and movement, filled with the clatter of gold-rimmed goblets, the occasional sound of shattering glass, and the boisterous laughter of men who lived without fear. The scent of roasting meat, sweat, and expensive liquor thickened the air, and all around her, nobles and warriors alike indulged with reckless abandon.

Her father was at the center of it all, already deep into his cups, his booming laughter rising above the din as he slapped Judge on the back like they were old friends instead of two kings negotiating their children’s futures.

Y/N barely acknowledged any of it.

Her hands were tight fists at her sides, her breath short and uneven as she stood near one of the long banquet tables, staring blankly at the bottles of alcohol lined up before her.

She had spent the entire evening thinking.

Thinking about Hitomi’s words.

"If you weren’t innocent, he wouldn’t marry you either."

The sentence had lodged itself deep in her mind, replaying over and over like a cruel taunt.

It was simple. Blatantly simple.

A way out.

She had never been particularly sentimental about her purity. It wasn’t something she clung to with any great sense of importance. But now—now it had become a bargaining chip.

A key to her own freedom.

Her throat felt tight, her palms slightly damp as she finally reached forward, her fingers brushing over the bottles. Her gaze scanned the labels, searching for the one with the highest proof.

She wasn’t foolish.

She knew herself well enough to understand that she wouldn’t have the courage to go through with it if she were sober.

So she wouldn’t be.

The bottle she selected was strong—stronger than anything she had ever dared to drink before.

She poured herself a glass. Downed it in one go.

It burned.

A hot, fiery path down her throat, sharp enough to bring tears to her eyes.

She coughed, her body immediately rejecting the intensity, but she forced herself to keep going.

Another glass.

Then another.

The world around her began to blur at the edges, the sounds of laughter and clinking goblets dulling into an indistinct hum.

She could feel it now—the warmth spreading through her limbs, the soft fuzziness settling into her brain, numbing everything it touched.

Good.

This was what she needed.

She stumbled away from the table, barely aware of her surroundings anymore. Her vision was unfocused, her thoughts hazy, but she had one goal in mind.

A man.

Any man.

Someone to make sure she could never be married off to Zeang.

Her steps were unsteady as she wove through the crowd, her body light, her mind floating somewhere between awareness and unconsciousness.

Then—she bumped into someone.

A firm, solid figure.

Strong.

Warm.

The scent of something clean and expensive filled her senses—subtle cologne mixed with the lingering sharpness of the sea and sweat.

She barely looked up.

Didn’t care who it was.

Instead, she stood on her tiptoes, swaying slightly, and pressed her lips against his.

The touch was brief, barely more than a soft press of warmth, before darkness swallowed her whole.

...

Y/N awoke to noise.

Loud. Jarring.

The clash of metal against metal, the distant sounds of shouted orders, the rhythmic pounding of boots against the floorboards.

For a brief moment, she didn’t register anything at all.

Her mind was still wrapped in a thick, alcohol-induced haze, her body heavy and warm, nestled against something soft and unfamiliar.

She blinked groggily, her lashes fluttering as she stretched—

Only to feel cool air against her bare skin.

Her bare skin.

A strange, creeping feeling crawled up her spine.

Slowly, she sat up, the sheets sliding down her body. The moment she saw herself, the moment she saw the way her naked form was tangled in silk covers, her heart stopped cold.

She felt her breath hitch, her fingers clutching the sheets tightly, dragging them up to her chest as panic rose like bile in her throat.

This…

This wasn’t her bed.

Her pulse pounded in her ears as she darted her gaze around the room.

The space was larger than hers, the walls lined with neatly arranged weapons, the faint scent of steel and cologne lingering in the air.

This wasn’t her cabin.

This wasn’t even her ship.

Her mind raced, piecing together what had happened.

The party.

The drinking.

The kiss.

Then—blackness.

Her stomach twisted violently.

Who?

How?

Her thoughts were still sluggish, her memory a hazy void, but before she could dwell on it any further, the door creaked open.

Footsteps.

She snapped her head up, her grip on the sheets tightening like a vice.

And then—

Her entire body went still.

Niji Vinsmoke stood in the doorway.

Still in his training gear, a towel draped lazily over his shoulders. His blue hair was slightly damp, strands falling across his forehead in a way that should have looked casual, but instead sent a sharp, sinking dread straight into her gut.

He took one look at her.

And grinned.

A slow, amused smirk that curled at the edges, sharp and mocking, as his gaze flickered down to where she sat clutching the sheets to her chest.

Y/N felt her face drain of all color.

Oh.

Oh no.

Niji clicked his tongue, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Well,” he drawled, his voice thick with amusement. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Princess.”

[starryevermore]

you said you were gonna come find me ✧ cardan greenbriar

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

pairing: cardan greenbriar x fae!fem!reader

request: part 2 of the cardan fic?? - anon

summary: and you didn't wanna hang around. she said it was just goodbye for now. he said he was gonna grow up, then he would come find you.

word count: 1,728

warnings?: dual povs, a little angst with a happy ending, not proofread

PART ONE | PART THREE

The local children were convinced you were a witch. Part of you wanted to tell them that you were worse than a witch—that you could turn them into animal of your choosing, that you could make them do things and think they liked it, that you could ruin their lives by virtue of existing. Perhaps that was the heartache talking, so you instead shouted “boo!” when you caught them staring for too long. You supposed, though, you fed into the rumors of your being a witch. You came into this town out of nowhere, lived far away from the rest of its people, and only interacted with them when you went into town for food or a new library book. No one knew who you were or where you came from. At first, you reveled in the solace.

Now, you were only painfully are of how lonely you were.  

When you left Faerie, you went as far as you could from your former home. Traveled up to the mountains, found an abandoned cabin you could hole up in. There were few faeries in this area, mostly solitary fae that you would encounter while on walks in the woods, which had been the draw. Months later, you found yourself wishing you had set yourself up in one of the communities of fae who lived in the mortal lands. Would you be admitting defeat to leave the cabin now and join them? 

It wasn’t all horrible in your little cabin. Being away from court and all of its expectations was nice. You didn’t have to worry about carefully mincing your words so as not to offend anyone. You weren’t dragged into dances you would rather avoid. And you certainly did have to let your heart break over and over again as Jude at Cardan’s side. No, instead, you could read and write poetry and tend to the little garden you had started. You could find your happiness, even if it was without the one person you truly wanted by your side. 

You wondered how Cardan was doing. Had he even noticed you were gone? Did he care? He had seemed to miss seeing you when you danced with him on your last night in Faerie. But he had also not made any prior efforts to seek you out. Fae couldn’t lie, but they could manipulate. They could twist the truth to serve their interests. Few were better at doing so than Cardan. 

“When I learned you left Faerie, this was not the sort of place I expected you to be.”

You stiffened as you rounded the corner. The basket you’d been using to carry the herbs you foraged nearly fell from your grip. You squared your shoulders, looked down your nose at the woman seated at your dining room table. “I did not come here under the expectation to be found.”

Jude considered the room. The dirty dishes in the sink, the wilted flowers in the center of the table, the open storybook at the chair askew in front of her. “So it seems. It was not easy to find you.”

“You should have taken that as a sign to leave me be,” you said. You crossed the dining room and went into the kitchen. Jude’s chair scratched against the floor as she followed you. You ignored her as you began to unload the herbs from your basket. “I left Faerie for a reason.”

Though you were avoiding looking at her, you knew Jude’s eyes did not leave you. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought Jude was fae herself. The predatory glint in her eyes, the way her fingers itched to grab at her sword. She was not still like fae, nor was she unnaturally beautiful like fae, but she carried herself in such a way that you could be convinced otherwise. By human standards, she would have been the most beautiful of all. It was easy to understand why Cardan would choose her. Gorgeous but lethal—the exact sort of woman he would pursue. First Nicasia, now Jude. It was just as easy to see that you did not fit into the picture. 

“You ran in the middle of the night,” Jude said. You looked over your shoulder. Her brows were pinched together as she scrutinized you. 

“Have you come here to chastise me for leaving without a goodbye?”

She shook her head. “I have come because you were invited to breakfast.”

It was hard not to laugh. Was that why she came all the way to mountains to find you? Because you didn’t come to breakfast? It was so ridiculous. Of all the reasons to seek you out, it was the silliest of them all. Your heart ached all the same, though. No one came because you were a friend. No one came because you were missed. Would Cardan have even known you were gone if he hadn’t extended the invitation the very evening you fled? 

“If I have offended the King, then I extend my apologies.”

Jude lifted her chin. “Tell him yourself.”

Your jaw clenched and unclenched. No. You would not go to him. You would not drag yourself back to that palace and let yourself be reminded why you had to go. You refused to break your heart all over again. “I have no desire to return to Faerie.”

“You don’t have to.”

Cardan stood in your bedroom. It was different than your one in Faerie. The one there had been full of extravagant things—the finest things he could gift you. It was full of gold and pearl and opal, glittering as if it all needed to be housed in a vault. But this bedroom, it had been stitched together out of nothing. Threadbare blankets, smooshed pillows, books that looked like they would fall apart with one wrong look. Cardan listened to your conversation as your voice floated down the hall. Would you really choose all of this over being with him? Was he truly so terrible?

The floor creaked under his feet as he stepped out and walked down the hall. Cardan could only see the back of your head, but you still looked just as beautiful as he remembered. His fingers twitched at his side as he fought the urge to run up behind you, take you in his arms, and whisk you away to Faerie. When had you taken so much control over him? When had he given it to you so willingly? When had you decided you didn’t want it anymore? 

“I believe I am owed an apology?”

You turned slowly on your heel. Your eyes narrowed, but Cardan did not miss the flash of surprise. Your tongue swiped over your teeth. Would it be wrong to take that tongue in his mouth? Did it matter if it was? “I apologize.”

“My, that was heartfelt.”

Your eyes fell to the tail that swished around Cardan’s legs. It was still unfamiliar for him to have it out, still hard to control it from revealing his base emotions. He tried to will it to stop, but it continued to wave around as his excitement of seeing you bubbled in his chest. “Would you prefer I fall to my knees and weep for your forgiveness? Kiss your feet until you are pleased?”

“Oh, there are few things that would please me more than you on your knees for me, but I would prefer to not have an audience for that.”

Your gaze flitted from Cardan to Jude, who was inspecting your collection of kitchen knives. Were you debating sending her away? He would enjoy that. He would like to get on his own knees and remind you why he cared for you so. He misliked the distance you were putting between him. Maybe if he begged prettily enough, you would forgive him for whatever cruel thing he did that sent you running. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I don’t appreciate learning that you fled in the middle of the night after inviting you to breakfast. Is my company so awful that you would rather leave your home than spend a moment with me?”

A scoff escaped your lips. “I didn’t expect you to care.”

Cardan stared. Didn’t care…? He was so sure he had been clear with his intentions. He sent you gifts—he sent you a ring! The ring…Cardan reached over to his littlest finger and slipped it off. Ignoring your noise of protest, he closed the distance, grabbed your hand, and slipped the ring back on the finger it belonged. His heart slowed to a normal beat.

“Why would I give you this ring if I didn’t care?”

You stared at the ring. “You have gifted me many things.”

Jude stepped toward you. Your head snapped over to look at her, as if you had forgotten she was there. She tapped on the glittering gem on the ring’s center. “Allow me—Cardan is not good at professions of love, it seems. I told him of how humans would gift a ring as a promise of love. He wished to do that for you. Usually, there are confessions of how one wants to stay with their partner for all of their lives, but it seems he forgot that part.”

Cardan’s face burned as you looked back to him. “Is that true?” you asked. 

“Do I need to get on my knees for you to believe it?” He ignored Jude’s remark that that, too, was part of the human tradition.

You straightened your spine. “I will not be a lover to the king.”

Of course you wouldn’t be. You deserved more than that. Cardan was willing to offer you more than that. All you had to do was give him the word. Without a thought, Cardan sank to his knees, captured your hands in his. “Then be my Queen.”

Your breath hitched. 

“Come back to Faerie and rule by my side. Allow me to love you as I have tried for all these years. I missed you.” He lifted one of your hands to lips, then the other. “I begged Jude to help me find you and bring you home. I begged her to help me come here. Please, don’t let it all be for not.”

All you could manage was a single nod, and that was enough. 

PART THREE