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c0llisiion · 9 months ago

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ATTENTION — K.TH

★Pairing: kim Taehyung + f!reader

★Genre: smut

★: exes , kinda toxic ig , bigdickdom!tae , choking, slight exhibitionism , reader is lowkey bipolar , angry sex/make up sex (they just went through a breakup) , mirror sex , oral, slapping, creampie , unprotected sex (please practice safe sex!) name calling, degradation, kth is kinda mean — lmk if i missed any! ^^

★W/C: 2,435

A/N: HIIIIIIII!!!!!! so yes another kth fic :’) its been a while so that’s justified! This is actually one of my first fics i ever wrote nd i found it rotting in my notes so i decided to tweak it up and post :3 (the og was shit.) will finally be able to post more often <3 anyways enjoy! Hope you like itttt

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ MDNI. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Loud music was blasting throughout the crowded club. It was a huge party, hosted by one of your closest friend. There were people dancing, drinking, and giving men lap dances. It was a wild one!

You were dancing hard with your girlfriends. Those few shots you took finally hit you.

You were approached by your friend, while having the time of your life "Hey, bae, there is someone you might like to see.." You stopped and focused on what she was saying "Who?" You inquired. She pointed out a man sitting in one of the booths. He was talking to another familiar man and didn't seem to notice you. You stood there, staring at the man in a suit with a few of his buttons undone. You were, honestly, in disbelief. This day is truly one for the history books.

"Taehyung..." You stood there wide-eyed. "Hell yeah, girly, I invited him for you and you only," she said with a smug smirk. "Go on, bae, get your tiger!" She nudged. "I-i-" you stammered. "come onnn ,, stop being a fucking pussy and go talk to him!!" She started shoving you in his direction. You stayed put, not letting her push you more. "Dude, for god's sake! It's going to be so awkward!" You turned around to face your clearly drunk friend. "Bitch, you were the one that was venting to me about how you wanted to see him almost every day since you broke up!" She countered. What she said was right. You were venting to her every day, nonstop, from the day you broke it off with him. "I-I had confidence that time..! But I don't think i will be able to show that same confidence .." Your friend narrowed her eyes at you. "PUSSY!" She shouted in your face. You both giggled it off before she spoke up. "Well if you are not comfortable yet, then it's fine. I heard that he already has a new girlfrien-" "what?" Your ears perked up. "Wdym what? Did you not hear? Apparently he is fucking that hot chick , aeri from back then; she had approached him two days after you broke up, and they have been dating ever since." You look back at the man clad in a blue suit with a white button up underneath before letting out an angry scoff, "What a bastard..."

"Its time to get that bastard back into your life," your friend winked at you.

"Heeeyyyy, Taehyung! How is the party going for you?" Your friend approached him, stumbling slightly. "It's going well! I'm having so much fun!" Taehyung said it with excitement. "Ouu, I'm glad to hear! Ykw, do you want to join us on the dance floor?" Your friend batted her eyelashes at him, baiting him into joining her. "haha imma pass!" " Cooommeee oooonnnn, it’s going to be fun, Taehyung" she begged for him to join her, and he eventually did after much persuasion. He joined the dance floor and was quickly hoarded by hot girls who definitely wanted to get laid by him. After a moment, his eyes landed on someone he knew. It was you. You were with another man, kissing, hands around his neck, and swaying your hips in a very sultry way. You broke off the kiss and glanced to your side. He was standing there. A woman was holding his face in her hands, trying to get him out of his trance. You could feel the rage that was radiating off of him. You smirked and dragged your mister to the bar. You let him buy you a few drinks before eventually letting him go.

You were drinking your third shot of tequila when he approached you. "It's funny to see you here." You turned around to see the tall figure of Taehyung looking down at you. You almost choked on the alcohol. "It's my best friend's birthday; of course I will be here, dumbass!" You tapped the glass on the counter, signaling for the bartender to pour you another. Taehyung walked over to the empty seat next to you. "So what's up?" You inquired while waiting. "Oh, nothing much; Daddy has been pressuring me to start staying stable." You snorted. " 'daddy' PFFFTTT" . Taehyung looked at you blankly. The bartender poured you a glass, and before you could down it all, Taehyung snatched the shot glass, drinking every last bit, and placed it on the counter. "Yeah 'daddy'” "Omg, you are literally so insufferable." You said it dramatically. "Idek how that aeri bitch is even with you," Taehyung shot up. "What aeri?" He said plainly like he had no idea what you were talking about. You looked at him in shock. "You are dating aeri right?" You asked for reassurance. He scoffed it off. " pff- you really think i would date a hoe like aeri? Never in a million years." He rolled his eyes and chuckled. " B-but .. f/n said you guys are fucking around..??" "That is true, though," your face drowned. "Like, we only hooked up once, and you know what? She is not the person she says she is. One of the worst fuckings I have ever done," you giggled. "Who was your best?" You asked him randomly. "You." Your cheeks turned pink almost immediately. You could feel him looking at you. Eyeing your entire body. "You look good today," he complimented you. "Don't I always look good?" You joked. He chuckled, looking down. You both were staring at each other with love and lust. "I miss you" had accidentally slipped your mouth. Curse you for drinking too much! You quickly covered your mouth in disbelief at what just came out. "What?" He looked at you. "Ah ah nothing, nevermind!!" You brushed it off as quickly as you could. He looked at you with his eyebrow quirked up. "Aha i think i gotta go... f/n is calling me haha". There was a slight stutter in your speech. You got up, and before you could leave the bar, he grabbed you by your wrist, turned you around, and kissed you. You were shocked. Your hands were on his chest while he kissed you with passion. "I missed you too, baby.." The bomb dropped. Your mind went blank. "But tae.." "Please, baby, take me back. I promise to change this time. I just really need you. I don't want anyone else." You looked at him with guilt. But this was the same statement he would always give. 'i will change’ 'I will do better' 'take me back'. You were unsure of what to feel. All these months, you missed him, and now?

"Tae you know we can't. You always say this but you never change. Just cut the act off." He let go of your waist. "I miss you, baby. I really do. And im sorry for all-" "shush. I don't want to hear another apology. You are never sorry." As much as you love and miss Taehyung. His personality is the biggest turn off. He had broken your trust multiple times, and whenever you would break up, he would come up with the same shit, and you were there to accept his lame apologies. But not this time. You took some time to think about it, and you came to the conclusion that it was best for you not to take him back.

"Have a goodnight." You said it sternly before turning away. "You are really going to leave me, huh?" Taehyung started following you. "I left you months ago, Taehyung." His gaze went from soft to the familiar, mean one. "You said you missed me!" He pulled you by your arm, turning you back around to face him. "It's for the better! For both of us! You know we are never going to work out!" You countered. "Oh yeah, for the 'better' , I know you will come right back to me. Quit acting, y/n. As soon as my dick enters your desperate cunt, you will be with me once again like the slut you are." His hands went around your waist once again. Mere inches separate you both. Whatever he said was true. You break up. Meet up a few weeks or days later. Fuck, and then back together. The same cycle over and over again. You couldn't get enough of him. “Let’s not play fool again.” He said in a manipulative tone. You were resisting his manipulation, but you gave in. Your lips smashed into his aggressively. He chuckled at your instinct. "Yeah, that's what I fucking thought." He said it in between the kiss.

He rushed you into the club washroom and locked the door. There was absolute rage radiating off of you guys. Kissing harshly and not letting each other go. He made you sit on the counter and grabbed you by your jaw, breaking the intense kiss. Your lips were already swollen. "How many dicks have been in this cunt?" He said,tauntingly. You looked at him with your drunken eyes. "I will make sure no one gets this. It's mine. Got it?" You nodded. He let go of your jaw and dropped to his knees. He spread your legs open and started touching your wet pussy. His fingers circled your clothed entrance. A sticky mixture of your arousal coated his fingertips. "Always wet for me. Goodgirl." he grabbed you by your waist before smashing his face into your heat and started eating you out with your lace panties on. The pleasure was too much. You threw your head back and let out a pornographic moan. He was so good at eating you out to the point that it's enough to come undone.

You tugged on his black locks. Eyes swelling up with tears and drool already dripping down from the sides of your mouth. He was lapping at your cunt like a starved man. “So good.. so fucking good…” he nudged his face closer into your sex. Breathing in your arousal. Your thighs clamped around his head, and let out a choked-out moan as he bit down on your poor clit. “T-tae..! ‘S too much!!” Taehyung found pleasure in your pleas and cries. He pulled away and stared up at you. His chin glistened with his spit and your juices, running down his neck.

He got up and was quick to capture your lips in his mouth. His tongue swirled around the inside of your mouth, and you could taste yourself. Large hands pushed your dress further up your body; a loud snap was heard as he ripped your thin panties. You grab onto his shoulders as you feel his long, cold fingers rubbing your throbbing clit. You gasped for air as he flicked your nub. Your hands roamed all over his body, helping him take off his Celine suit jacket. Your hands went lower before you stopped at his belt buckle. “Put it in already… please … “ you mumbled into the kiss. Taehyung let out a dark chuckle; his lips traveled down your neck. You felt something prod into your sopping hole. His large tip slipped through your folds easily. You gasp as he pushes himself further into you. His hands tightly held onto your hips as he eased his way into your gummy walls. He hunched over after he fully pushed himself into you. Your cunny clenched around his big length as he started thrusting. Heavy breaths getting louder with each increase in pace. “Gon’ fuck you so good..the entire club will hear us.”

-fwap! Fwap! fwap!- loud sounds of your ass slapping against his hips echoed through the restroom. Taehyung had you facing the mirror. A hand wrapped tightly around your hair, pulling your head back. “See how well you take my cock..! Haah- so fucking good. Pussy sucking me in so good.” He whispered in your ear before biting it. “Ngh- fuck Taehyung feels so g-good…!” You held onto the edge of the counter for dear life as Taehyung pounded into you from behind. Your makeup ran down your face as his thrusts had you tearing up and seeing stars. “Mmm.. haa-“ slap. “Keep your eyes on the mirror while I fuck you. Understand?” You nodded at his words. Your eyes were struggling to stay open, and your head felt heavy. “Words, doll.” He grabbed your jaws and brought his face closer to yours, making you look at him as he continued giving you harsh thrusts. Your body jerking forward at each. The hand on your clit pinching the sensitive nub “ngh- fuck! I u-understand…” a devilish smirk formed on his perfect face. He was fucking you into tomorrow. His long, thick dick abused your soft plush walls over and over again. Red angry tip bruising your cervix. Your cream coated his entire length, and your arousal ran down his balls and your thighs. “Gonna c-cum.. tae- gon’-“ His fingers worked on your clit quickly. Tugging, pinching, and drawing rough circles all to help you reach your high. “Cum all over me.. doll.” And with that, you gushed around his length. “Fuck!!” Spurts of your cum spilled from the sides of your abused hole. Taehyung continued fucking you through your orgasm. “Do you want my cum inside you- haaah… fuck doll squeezing me so good..!” He got cut off as you spasmed around him. You nod weakly at his words. Picking your head up to look at him through the mirror, He brought his face closer to your ears. “Say it. Say you want my cum in you.” He growled in your ears. Your eyes filled up with tears. “I wan’ it…” “Want what? I want to hear you say it.” You bite down on your lip as you feel his fingers draw rough circles on your overstimulated clit again. “ i wan’ -ngh- i want your cum.. Taehyung. i wan’ your cum in me… please.” Your voice was feeble. Taehyung groaned in satisfaction. “Goodgirl. I like it when you beg.” His hips quickly gained their pace and had you once again feeling full. You let out a choked out scream as you felt Taehyung fill you up. Taehyung moaned loudly as his balls drained all the cum into your plush walls. He dropped his head in between your neck and shoulders as he slowly came down from his high. Leaving soft, wet kisses on the spot.

He lifted his head up and looked at you before smiling. His hands caressed your red ass. He pulled out, and a stream of yours and his mixed arousal dripped down your thighs. “You're gonna stay with me forever.”

A/N: thank you for reading! I will be writing inboxes so make sure to send in :3 🎀

#౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ yun’s silly fics #bts #bts smut #taehyung smut #bts reactions #bts x reader #bts army #bts fanfic #bts headcanons #bts scenarios #taehyung headcanons #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung x oc #taehyung scenarios #bts taehyung #taehyung #bts v #v smut

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zombiekooo · 6 months ago

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Pretty Please? (18+ Hannigram Fic)

Warnings: Mildly Dubious Consent, Mild Blood Play, Dom/Sub Undertones, Aphrodisiac Use, Mild Homophobia, Subspace

(6.7k Words)

Summary:

Will enters Hannibal’s office for the first time, drugged and confused with the effects of an aphrodisiac. He begs for Hannibal whose touch seems to help the impact of the drug, while simultaneously struggling with the fact he is in fact, attracted to men. Hannibal gets the brute end of it, and knows exactly how to satisfy his fascinating new toy.

A/N: Hannibal is Hannibal, also known as the biggest narcissistic and manipulative freak I have ever seen. So, just keep that in mind while reading.

This will be a mini series, maybe 2-4 chapters long. I haven’t decided yet, but read the tags for future warnings ;)

- Koo

Chapter 1:

Will steps into Dr. Hannibal Lecter’s waiting room. The only reason he knew where he was at that moment was because of the glittering bronze name tag that framed the man’s name like a medallion, greeting him on the door leading to the office.

He felt disoriented. Unlike himself. He couldn’t recall how he had shown up to the man’s office in the first place. He had no appointment, no number to call, not even an email to warn the man of his arrival. He didn’t know why he was here. Hell, he had only met the man a handful of times.

Will flinches, the letters of the psychiatrist’s name blurring momentarily. He felt a particular pinch in his side that reminded him of the vivid sensations of pins and needles across his entire body. He was thankful for it though, seeming as it was the only thing stopping him from succumbing to the fatigue that clouded his brain. He pushes back his messy bangs with a weak hand, absently noting how his hair sticks up sloppily from the sweat accumulated on his forehead, and lifts a heavy limb to knock on the dark wooden door.

Courtesy was appreciated by the man, he had remembered that much.

After he knocks, he recognizes the chatter of two voices stopping abruptly. He curses himself for not paying attention. Of course, he would have patients, it was his office after all. So much for courtesy, Graham.

He hears a faint voice muffled by the door. Thick, accented, ridiculously smooth like melting butter. He could almost find himself envying the undeniably attractive voice. Man or woman, it had the same impact, melting their bones to jelly and allowing the tactile doctor to mold them to his liking with those strong large hands, which seemed unusual to have as a psychiatrist. He must work out. Of course he does, he can’t just be rich, handsome and intelligent. He’s gotta be ripped as well.

“Will?”

He could feel the rumble of the syllable, crawling up his throat and forcing him to swallow it back down, trapping it there, storing it away behind his ribs. He soaks in the way it rebeverates down his spine, and a stronger tremble of pins and needles envelops his body. They’re pleasant, he decides.

“Will.”

The pins and needles shifted to his left shoulder, forcing out a hiss from behind his teeth. The entire width of his shoulder tingles pleasantly, not unlike a massage. He feels himself answer the pleasant feeling with a rumble of his own, unknowingly leaning into the source of the pleasant feeling.

“Your name is Will Graham. You are in Baltimore Maryland, in front of Hannibal Lecter’s office. It is 11:21 PM. You are safe. Can you repeat that for me?”

“Hannibal?” Will sighs dreamily. As his eyes flutter open from being half closed, he begins to piece together the figure in front of him. A crimson suit with checkered patterns, maybe with some yellow stitching— he couldn’t focus his eyes well enough to know for sure—paired with a creamy white undershirt. Glossy black shoes tied meticulously, dark slacks with even darker stripes. Cologne. Rich, warm, and spicy but not overwhelmingly so. Just enough to alight his eyelids to flutter open all the way.

“That’s it, very well done.” Hannibal doesn’t exactly smile, but his eyes suggest that he is satisfied with Will’s response. Will lets out a shuddering breath, his heart fluttering at the thought of pleasing the man before him. He doesn’t let himself think too much about that.

“Jessie, I’m afraid I will have to end our session short. It seems I am faced with an emergency.”

Will only then registers the person inside the office, sitting down in a velvet seat. But he doesn’t process the curt exchange of words they share, his unfocused eyes eventually darting back to Hannibal’s eyes, which he notes haven’t once left his own. Then only once he begins to move his legs, does he realize the hand on his shoulder firmly guiding him, and a second tremor of butterfly wings beat at his chest. The same warm solid hand he was just thinking of, long fingers that encompass his shoulder effortlessly. He leans his weight against it, just to test the firmness of Hannibal’s grip.

“Will, please come in,” Hannibal says, unfazed by the weight of his colleague. He simply guides the man inside with a firm hand.

“M’sorry. You had a client.” Will says, looking at the now absent chair. He hadn’t seen the person leave.

“That is irrelevant,” Hannibal replies smoothly. Will can’t help but notice the way his accent becomes accentuated on certain vowels, and it has him looking back at the older man’s face, specifically his lips.

Hannibal studies him momentarily, his expression unreadable.

“Where did you go tonight, Will? It is awfully late.”

Will grunts, shaking his head in dismissal and motioning to the chair across from him.

“Who was that? Didn’t think’ya had customers… er clients, this time around.” He says with an irritated lilt. He couldn’t remember what the person looked like, but if they had the company of Hannibal at this time of night, then it must’ve been something personal. A boyfriend? Or was it a girl? A girlfriend was more likely... Fuck do I care.

“You’re correct, I normally do not have clients at this time,” Hannibal responds.

Will stiffens and shoves his hands in his pockets like a petulant boy. His eyes drop from Hannibal’s face and he shakes off the hand from his shoulder, instantly regretting the solid weight of it. He desperately ignores whatever bubbling emotion is being stirred in his gut. He steps away from the comforting presence of the older man and begins regretting his entire decision to come.

“I should go, dunno why m’here.” Will grunts, shoulders retracting nearly up his ears. He looks down at his scuffed loafers, comparing them to the most likely designer black leather shoes that reflect the orange light from the office. Only then does he realize how pathetic he must look to the man. Dazed, dirty and whiny. Like a kicked dog. He turns to leave, shame nipping at his heels.

“Will,” Hannibal says firmly, his voice descending down Will’s spine, dragging against each rivet of bone. He stills instantly, shoulders hunched and defensive.

“Tell me what happened tonight. You are disoriented, and as my job as your psychiatrist, I cannot let you leave the building until I am assured that you are safe. Both emotionally and physically.”

Ah, right. Nearly forgot.

Jack had assigned Hannibal as his very own psychiatrist. The very reason why he went to a random bar, drank enough whiskey to surely kill some kidney cells, read the email Jack forwarded of Hannibal’s office address, and called a taxi to drag him there just because he wanted to look at the man, and in spite tell him he didn’t need his help, that he wasn’t unstable.

Then forgot all about it because of the damn pins and needles the man gives him just from thinking of his stupid dreamy accent and his fancy clothes.

“Went for a drink.” Will shrugs, refusing to turn around, staring at the closed door. He feels a prod of anxiety from the realization that he’s alone with the doctor.

“And how many did you have?” Hannibal replies firmly, leaving no room for an argument.

Will turns the question around in his head, trying to remember the evening. It’s all blurred and it gives him a headache from trying.

“Three.” He answers. He knew that much.

“Three,” Hannibal repeats warily. Will hears the shuffle of clothes and the waft of that spicy, woody, addictive cologne come closer. His head tingles with a fuzzy feeling just from the scent alone. He tells himself everyone would react the same, despite their gender. They must have put some kind of pheromone in that crap.

“Who were you with tonight, Will? Did someone accompany you while drinking? A stranger, perhaps?”

“Ya, maybe. So what? So were you.” Will drawls, overly conscious of his Louisianan accent making an appearance.

He squeaks in surprise as Hannibal takes a firm hold of his shoulders, spinning him around to face him. Instinctively, Will reaches to hold onto the older man’s arms to prevent him from falling, the room spinning nearly to the point nausea. But then the fuzzy blend of heat and needles shoot from his fingertips, up his chest, then finally simmering pleasantly around his shoulders and the base of his skull. The heat from the touch was nearly too much and not enough all at once, he could feel the way his eyebrows pinch and his jaw slacken. It felt like electricity and raw nerves, every touch so hot it was almost freezing.

“I believe you have been roofied, Will. Tell me what you remember.” Hannibal says matter-of-factly, leading Will backwards until the back of his knees meet the chair and he falls backwards until he’s seated clumsily into it.

Will can hardly process the meaning behind Hannibal’s sentence. Instead, he blinks up at the solid man above him who is looking down at him with deep maroon eyes, bordering on dark red from the influence of his crimson suit.

Fear prickles at the nape of his neck, telling him that the man was a predator— the looming figure ever so intimidating above him, tall and muscular, with broad shoulders and an even broader chest. He can’t recall ever meeting a psychiatrist who had such a powerful figure. The fear didn’t last long, however. A tingly warmth spread over his scalp like a massage as he felt his eyes struggle to maintain focus on the man’s face. He shrinks away from the intense stare, afraid that Hannibal would figure out the undignified thoughts that began manifesting on their own accord.

“Dunno,” Will responds stubbornly, chanting away the blush he feels rising to his cheeks. He eyes the way the man’s throat bobs in silent frustration, then darts his eyes up just long enough to see his expression, but Hannibal’s gives away no hints to his emotions.

“Then, tell me what you are feeling as of right now,” Hannibal replies calmly as he takes a seat across from him.

Will scoffs, “Lazy psychiatry, doctor.”

“Entertain me then, Agent Graham,” Hannibal says, cold and somewhat unsettling.

Will shuffles uncomfortably, tucking his legs against the chair and squirming around in the chair. Suddenly, he feels too warm. His clothes were suddenly too restrictive. He sighs in defeat and looks down at the floor at Hannibal’s pointed shoes.

“Warm… no, hot, actually. I keep getting these tingles everywhere, and fuzziness too. Like wool is dragged against my skin, but like, the soft wool, not the scratchy kind. Y’know?” Will sniffs absently, making an effort not to look the man in the eyes. He’s painfully aware that he’s rambling, so he looks down at his feet, kicking off his shoes and tucking them under the chair.

Hannibal is silent, patiently watching the squirming man before him. Eventually, Will breaks some more under the penetrative stare.

“It’s especially when m’touched. Or, no, I don’t know. It’s not painful or anything, just a bit overwhelming. Feels like m’just a bundle of nerves.” He shrugs.

Hannibal considers him for a moment, allowing the silence to stretch until it has Will squirming all over again.

“How did it feel when I touched you, Will?”

Will chokes and sinks into the chair, his arms crossing over his body defiantly.

“It was fine.”

“Yet, your expression tells me you ache for it back.”

Will feels on the verge of panic. His eyes briefly meet Hannibal’s, and he nearly loses his breath at the wave of neediness his body swoons with. The tingles return, but only a phantom version of them. He aches for them back, aches for the solid strength of the man before him. The firm grip that was on his shoulder, grounding him, accepting the strain Will forced upon it.

“No, m’not— I don’t swing that way, doctor.”

“That was not what I was implying.” Hannibal has a teasing glint in his eye, a ghost of a smile pulling at his plump lips. “Does that bother you? Homosexuality?”

“No- that isn’t-“ Will shakes his head, eyebrows creasing.

“Tell me what happened tonight.”

Will sighs and rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms, hard enough for him to see stars. He doesn’t realize his glasses fall from his face as he does, nor the way Hannibal reaches down to grab them, placing them on the desk next to him.

“Nothing! Really. I just, I went for a drink, I talked with this man… I don’t even remember his name or what he looked like. He seemed attracted to me, but I didn’t… I’m not gay. So I left.” He drops his hands into his lap dramatically once he’s finished, he looks at Hannibal’s sternum with a pout to avoid the man’s eyes. He felt frustrated, like his body was punishing him for not satisfying a craving that his brain couldn’t figure out. Subconsciously, his hands begin to rub at his forearms, simulating another’s touch.

Hannibal hums and leans forward.

“May I try something?”

Will frowns, searching Hannibal’s carefully blank face.

“What? Like what?”

“I want to see how you react to my touch. Skin to skin, however.”

Will’s gut nearly roars with heat, and he feels a sudden wave of shame cascade down his spine from his body’s reaction. He thinks his expression gives away the mixture of desire and guilt, and his first instinct is to defend himself. He bares his teeth and turns his head away from Hannibal’s intense gaze.

“Don’t— don’t fuck with me. I told you, it’s not a big deal. I don’t even know why I came here, this is stupid—“

Will hadn’t heard Hannibal stand up, and suddenly he felt the searing heat of pressure against his cheek. His body reacts without his brain’s knowledge, and he finds himself nuzzling his face into Hannibal’s palm. The pleasant pins and needles return, and the heat— flaring and incredibly soothing— takes over completely. He doesn’t hear the sigh he lets out, only feels the release of pressure from his ribs.

Will feels the way Hannibal hums and a heat in his gut alights like a hungry flame from the thought of satisfying the man.

“That’s it, that’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?” Hannibal coos, as if talking to a hungry stray pup who had just gotten fed.

Will was about to argue, reel back and defend himself, but then a hand is buried in his hair, and he’s being pulled forward into a solid weight. The cheek that isn’t being caressed by a large hand is being pressed into a hard abdomen, wafting with that masculine scent that he distantly notes isn’t only the cologne.

Will practically melts with a moan, his arms wrapping around Hannibal’s waist and hugs him tight as if at any moment his touch will be taken away from him. His brain feels foggy, his eyelids heavy, and even his body feels limp and malleable, encompassed with a pleasant heat. He imagines this is what it feels like to sleep without nightmares.

Will buries his entire face into the man’s stomach, enjoying the way the material of the man’s waistcoat scratches against his face. He takes a large breath of the man’s scent, and again he feels his body succumb to the pleasure of being touched. He knows he should feel embarrassed, humiliated— ashamed even, but he can’t find the energy to.

“There we go pretty boy, that’s it, just relax. I can give you what you need.” Hannibal coos again, and Will can feel the way his baritone voice vibrates against his face.

“Mm’not pretty,” Will grumbles weakly into the man’s body, his words slurred and obscured by the fabric.

Hannibal chuckles, sending another wave of pleasant tingles and warmth down Will’s spine.

“I care to disagree. I think many people believe that you are a very pretty man, Will. Cherubic, even.” Hannibal responds, a smile present in his voice. He drags a couple of fingertips teasingly light against Will’s nape which ignites an intense shiver down his spine, while keeping a gentle yet firm hold in his hair with the other hand. Will presses his face tighter against the man and bites his lip, unable to keep the groan of delight from escaping him.

Will doesn’t respond this time, instead he stands up, temporarily distancing his face from Hanninal’s body. Surprising Hannibal, Will stoops forward with a dreamy look in his eye and wraps his arms around the man’s neck, then buries his face just below Hannibal’s ear and inhales deeply.

“Y’smell so good,” Will drawls, mouthing absently at the exposed skin just above the man’s collar, as if trying to taste the scent. His hands grab at the neat strands of gelled hair and pull Hannibal impossibly closer.

Hannibal allows him, and moves one hand down to the small of Will’s back, the other pressed across his nape. He notes the feverish heat and the light perspiration against his skin. Hannibal dips his nose into the crook where Will’s neck and shoulder meet and inhales deeply. He smells of cheap whiskey, deodorant and dog, but underneath, below his skin, he smells a metallic sweetness alongside the heady musk of arousal. His suspicions have been confirmed.

Hannibal can’t suppress the shiver when Will gently nibbles at his skin, instantly leaving wet kisses and licks as an apology.

He won’t take advantage of Will like this. Especially not when his fascination for the man has nearly tripled after this new encounter. Instead, he buries his desires and saves them in his memory palace for another time.

But, it proves harder to do so when Will begins panting sweet little moans into his ear while rocking his hips against Hannibal’s, all the while Will’s hands explore Hannibal’s back, shoulders and neck.

“Darling boy,” Hannibal says with a mixture of fondness and sternness, gently easing Will’s head from his shoulder. He cups his jaw, forcing him to meet his eyes.

“Mmm…?” Will hums so sweetly, pupils blown so wide that only a sliver of those gorgeous blue-teal eyes are left. His lips are bitten raw, red and plump, gaping just enough to get a glimpse of that teasingly pink, wet tongue that holds so many sharp remarks and brilliance. Hannibal actively fights the way his gut tightens at the desperate expression Will has, wanting nothing more but to dip his fingers inside that pliant mouth and explore the depths of it. He imagines the velvet heat of his tongue and cheeks, the slippery heat that is the cavern of his throat.

“I am going to suggest something, to help you ride through the aphrodisiac you’ve been given,” Hannibal says in an even tone. He allows himself the luxury of pushing Will’s bangs away from his face, relishing in the way Will instantly nuzzles into his palm.

Will only nods clumsily, opening his mouth to lick Hannibal’s fingers, nibbling at the tips. Hannibal has to take a deep breath to restrain the burning in his gut from intensifying anymore. He watches in fascination as Will’s lips wrap delicately around his skin, sucking and kissing his fingers as an apology for the bites. When he pulls off, his tongue lingers behind, reluctant to leave.

Hannibal clears his throat to try and mask the desire thick in his throat. “I have some paperwork that still needs to be done. I would like you to sit by me as I do so.” Hannibal continues, the only thing giving away that Will’s ministrations have any impact on him is the barely noticeable quiver in his voice.

“Y’still touch me?” Will asks against Hanninal’s palms. Looking up through thick dark lashes, eyes round and sickly sweet. Hannibal wonders if Will knows the impact he could have on anyone just by looking at them the way he’s looking at him now.

“Yes, pretty boy. More than what is being done to you now.” Hannibal promises, successfully appeasing him.

“Please,” Will whispers, pressing his groin tight against Hannibal’s. “M’want more.”

Hannibal can feel the outline of Will’s erection against him, and can’t stop himself from shifting his thigh between the boy’s legs and dragging it beneath his balls and perineum. Will cries out loud, dropping his forehead on Hannibal’s clavicle, and grinds desperately on the thigh graciously given to him.

Hannibal huffs a breath through his nose, silently admiring the frantic rock of the boy’s hips against him. He lifts his thigh lightly, nudging his heavy sac and earning a loud, needy whine.

“Ohhh fuck, please! I can’t…I need more,” Will keens, frustrated tears welling in his sweet eyes. He tugs at Hannibal’s hair and dives upwards to bite at his jaw.

Hannibal quickly grabs Will’s hair before he can leave a mark, yanking him back and looking down sternly at the pouting face below him.

“Violent, greedy thing. That is not how we ask for things.” Hannibal chides, pulling Will back further until he’s straining to keep hold of Hannibal’s neck with his arms. Pitifully, Will whines, squirming and trying to fight against the grip.

Will bares his teeth again, but when the grip in his hair turns painful and the playful expression in Hannibal’s eyes turns cold, he stops and goes limp.

“M’sorry,” Will pants. He struggles to swallow, his neck strained at an angle from the way Hannibal grips his hair.

“You will strip for me until you are in nothing but your underwear,” Hannibal states, ignoring the slurred apology and the keening whine that Will responds with. “You will then kneel between my feet when I am at my desk. Understood?”

Another flare of heat in his gut has Will squirming all over again, and he nods frantically despite the restraint Hannibal has by his hair.

“Use your words, boy. Or have you lost your ability to talk?” Hannibal mocks, cruel eyes staring intensely at the teary blue ones below him.

“Yes! Yes m’understand, please Hann’bol!” Will cries, hands already darting down to his belt buckle and clumsily undoing it. His breathing has become laboured, pants through his mouth rather than dignified breaths. All rationality has flown out the window at this point.

“Good boy.” Hannibal praises. The proud gleam in his eye makes Will’s knees feel like jelly, and when Hannibal lets go of his hair, Will has to slouch against the arm of the chair behind him to stabilize himself. The way Hannibal calls him ‘boy’ has his groin straining painfully against his jeans, and it has him doubling his efforts to rid himself of his clothes.

Will watches as Hannibal takes long strides to his desk, elegantly sitting down in the chair and sliding out documents from his drawer. When Hannibal looks up at him expectantly, Will slides out of his jeans and quickly shucks off his shirt, throwing them haphazardly over the arm of the chair. He doesn’t think twice about how needy and vulnerable he must look— naked, sweaty and flushed from head to toe. All he can think of is getting that incredible sensation back on his skin that only Hannibal seems to provide.

Will rounds the desk somewhat tentatively, unsure exactly what is being asked of him. He silently admires Hannibal’s side profile, his dark eyes paying all their attention to the papers in front of him. Will squirms with impatience, panting through his mouth as he continues to drag his eyes alongside the man’s sharp nose, then his plump pouty lips, and down his jaw, finally catching on the prominent adams apple halfway down a sleek yet strong neck. Distantly he feels the alarm bells go off in his brain— the shame and humiliation that comes with the thought of being attracted to a man. But lust and bursting waves of oxytocin cloud his brain from recalling the touch Hannibal gave, ultimately chasing away those anxious thoughts.

Without thinking, Will pushes his way in front of Hannibal, between his desk and the broad chest of the man. Hannibal relents, rolling his chair backwards to look up at the boy in dissatisfaction.

“I expected you to follow my instructions, Graham.” Hannibal sighs in agitation, an undertone of disappointment in his tone. It has Will’s heart churning in what he could only place as guilt. He bites his lip and climbs into the man’s lap, plopping his pert bottom onto the man’s thighs. Watching Hannibal’s expression closely, he sees nothing but cold blankness stare back at him.

“I did,” Will slurs, hands coming up to wrap around Hanninal’s neck, but his wrists were quickly snatched, and shoved behind his back, earning a pained whimper. He arches his back to ease some of the strain, but humiliating enough, it only pushes out his chest and bulging erection, exposing the hard pink nubs and strained underwear to both his and Hannibal’s eyes.

“You’re testing my patience. Did you want to be left alone, is that it? Without my help? Because that surely can be arranged.” Hannibal pulls his arms further back, forcing Will into a near pornographic pose atop him. With his chest pushed out, inviting pink nipples centimeters away from Hannibal’s lips, and a throbbing cock pressed against his stomach. Never did he imagine Will Graham would ever be willingly presented in this way. But what a pleasant surprise it was.

“No! Hann-“

“Wasn’t it just a moment ago when you were trying to convince me of your heterosexuality? What is this now, Agent Graham? You’re pleading to me like a bitch in heat, all for a simple touch.”

Will moans wantonly at the accented curse. Never had he heard the man swear, and the way it was spat at him like it personally assaulted the man by saying it had his hips rolling forward on its own accord.

“Please! M’sorry, I’ll do anything you say, just- pleeease! M’just… just want it so bad,” Will hiccups, fighting away the frustrated and humiliated tears welling in his eyes. “It just feels so good,” He whines, furrowing his brows and looking up through his lashes at Hannibal, blinking away the tears that cling to his eyelashes.

Hannibal’s grip relents and Will falls forward into his chest. A loud needy moan rips through his throat, and he eagerly scoots closer to the man until his naked body is pressed against his clothed one. Will’s arms wrap around Hannibal’s neck, and he lays frantic kisses and licks against his jaw as a thank you. Hannibal silently basks in the attention, particularly fond of the way Will’s facial hair scratches his clean shaven jaw.

“Ohh, please, need’you so much, anni’bol.” He slurs, indulging in the heat that radiates off the man’s body. His fingers plunge back into the soft tresses of once gelled hair, and he begins to kiss down the man’s neck, inhaling greedily of the scent that is the strongest just below his ear. His hips undulate, and he arches his back, presenting his round bottom obscured by blue boxers to try and entice Hannibal’s touch back on his body.

Hannibal allows him a minute of Will’s desperate touches and kisses, allowing his boy to relax. He can feel the way Will’s muscular thighs tighten around him, as if afraid he will leave him at any moment, but when he grants him a gentle touch to his boy’s nape, Will practically melts, body going limp in his arms.

“Miraculous, deviant thing. How fascinating you truly are.” Hannibal whispers, massaging Will’s nape. “How long have you been without another’s touch, I wonder. Desperate enough to seek the companionship of a male, of which you seem quite averse towards in the beginning. What changed? Or have your walls been weakened enough that your true desire has shown?”

Will only hums, and nuzzles Hanninal’s neck with his nose. He was too far gone to comprehend what was being said to him at that moment, only enjoying the way Hannibal’s baritone voice vibrated his body. Hannibal noticed this and laughed, feeling the unfamiliar emotion of something akin to adoration materialize in his body. He distantly files away the emotion to analyze later.

Hannibal slides a hand up the warm sides of the boy, grazing his ribs and running his palm back down to hold onto his hips. Will releases a pleased moan, muffled by Hannibal’s skin.

“Listen to me, Will,” Hannibal says firmly, but without any venom. Will reluctantly moves his head back, dreamily looking into Hannibal’s eyes after momentarily glancing down at his lips, nodding clumsily, pretty curls falling back into his eyes.

“I’d like you to kneel between my feet while I finish my work. I will continue to touch you, darling boy. But I expect you to be quiet and obedient. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, please,” Will responds with a happy sigh, immediately sliding down from Hannibal’s lap and settling between thick spread thighs, but not without grinding his bottom against his thighs beforehand.

Hannibal smirks at this but says nothing, and once Will is comfortably situated between his feet, he nudges the chair forward, trapping him inside the small space under his desk meant for his legs.

“There we go, beautiful boy. Very good.” Hannibal praises, reaching a hand down to gently caress the thick locks of Will’s head, and he pulls him forward so his head is forced to lay on his lap. He instantly feels the way Will relaxes, nuzzling into the fabric of Hanninal’s inner thigh, just in front of the prominent erection he has worked hard to ignore. He feels Will turn his face to nuzzle at his cock, breathing in a greedy breath and exhaling hot air onto it, igniting a twitch from Hannibal’s tip, but he redirects him to lay his cheek on his inner thigh instead.

“You will stay like this until I say otherwise, do you understand? You will not touch me unless permitted.” Hannibal states, tightening his hold on Will’s hair until he receives an answer.

“Yes, doctor,” Will responds. The name has Hannibal groaning deep, and he pushes the boy's head firmer against his thigh, nudging his nose below his sac, and he hears Will moan in return.

“Good boy.” Hannibal praises, his voice an octave lower and gravelly with arousal.

Will relaxes into the position fairly quickly. His nose rests below the doctor’s heavy sac, his cheek warmed by the inside of his thigh, and the heady musk he inhales with each breath is enough for him to feel high. He doesn’t touch himself, somehow imagining that if he did, Hannibal would be disappointed, and the thought of disappointing the man again makes his heart ache. Instead, he keeps his hands atop the man’s shoes, his legs tucked comfortably underneath him, and his upper body resting against the solid length of Hannibal’s leg. He feels as if he’s floating, tingly and warm despite being nearly naked.

The pins and needles have subsided somewhat, and replaced with a pleasant, fuzzy heat that envelops his entire body. The hand atop his head tugs gently at strands of hair, twirling individual curls and smoothing them back down across his scalp, each time erupting waves of pleasant tingles across his scalp and down his back, punching out a moan of delight. Once in a while, Will will nuzzle his face against the man’s thigh, his nose bumping into the sac, earning no reaction other than a warning pull of his hair.

Will distantly hears the scratch of paper and pen, and the occasional crinkle of paper, but the hand in his hair never leaves once. He doesn’t know how much time passes, but judging by the way his limbs feel tight and a bit sore, he’s been here for at least an hour. Hannibal’s voice penetrates the fogginess of his brain, forcing him back to the present.

“Darling boy, are you asleep?”

Will moans sleepily and shakes his head, lolling his head to the side so Hannibal can see his face. He feels the graze of fingers on his cheekbones, so he presents his neck, shivering when he feels the slide of fingertips across his jaw and down his neck, thumbing at the pulsing artery beneath his ear.

“How are you feeling now?” Hannibal asks, pushing his hair back a bit to get a better look at Will’s adorably sleepy expression.

“S’good,” Will slurs, nudging his body forward to press himself tighter against Hannibal’s legs. Will flinches when he feels a hand slither down his chest and pinch at his nipples, seething through his teeth at the sharp yet pleasant tingles that spread across his chest. He never touched himself there before, surprised at how sensitive he felt there.

Hannibal scratches a nail at the perky bud and Will doubles forward, a whine punched from his throat. He looks up at Hannibal with a confused pinch between his brows.

“Have you ever touched yourself here for pleasure, sweet boy?”

Will furrows his brows and shakes his head as if it is obvious, but when Hannibal gives him a disapproving look, he remembers to use his words.

“No… m’not a woman.” He huffs, yet his shoulders twitch and he exhales a shaky breath when Hannibal pinches rather hard.

“You certainly are not.” Hannibal muses, teasingly shoving a shoe beneath the boy’s balls, and lifting it. Will groans and grinds his hips forward, but as quick as it comes, the shoe disappears. “However, men still can achieve pleasure through their nipples similarly to women. Does this not feel good?” Hannibal twists both nipples this time, scratching the reddened nubs with his thumbnails.

Will’s jaw drops open, and his whole body shudders, savouring the orgasmic sensations rolling down his spine. He traps a moan by burying his face in the doctor’s thigh, hands rising to claw at his knees.

It was a feeling he’s never experienced before, sharp, intense pleasure nearly too overwhelming for him to withstand. He could feel the way his cock pulsed, and a tinge of embarrassment broke through the fog in his brain. This isn’t right, I shouldn’t be enjoying this. He thinks before Hannibal pulls him from that thought by a cruel twist of his nipples.

“Tell me, Will,” Hannibal demands, pulling hard and stretching the abused flesh.

Will moans as a second pulse of pleasure from his nipples runs down his spine and thrums at his tightening balls. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this aroused before in his life.

“No! It’s not—“ A harder pinch has him throwing back his head and each one of his limbs trembling. He felt humiliatingly close to an orgasm, despite not being touched where he needed it most.

“No? Then why are you leaking all over yourself? All messy and dirty, just from this.” Hannibal chides, clicking his tongue and scoffing. “I bet you could come all over yourself just from your chest being toyed with. Hm?” The shoe returns, and applies light pressure to Will’s groin until he presses the hard shaft firmly against the boy’s stomach. Will squeezes his eyes shut and his mouth gapes in a silent scream, his head dropping between his shoulders, his body shaking uncontrollably.

“Please!” Will whimpers, raising his head back up to look at the older man with pleading wet eyes and burning cheeks. His thighs quake, curls damp with sweat cascade over his face, and those adoring lips are shiny with saliva. He looked ravishing, to say the least.

“Please what? Begging for a man to touch your nipples and rub your needy wet cock. I wonder what someone would think if they were to walk in right now, seeing you on your knees, pleading and crying in between a man’s thighs, rubbing your face all over his groin like a mutt. What do you think they would say?” Hannibal becomes cruel with his hands, twisting and pinching the deep red buds, nearly drawing blood from the abuse. His maroon eyes hold a suggestion of a wicked smile, the shadows drawn across his face from the lighting make him look otherworldly, dominant and terrifying— beautiful.

Will only shakes his head, his hips now grinding forward to meet the pressure of the sole of the doctor’s shoe. He can feel the way his balls draw up and tighten, the pleasure intensifying and flooding his drugged mind with oxytocin. He’s so close, and his eyes begin to flutter shut, chanting intelligible sounds and syllables that almost sound like ‘Hannibal’ and ‘yes.’

“You will look at me while you come, boy. You will remember who gave you this pleasure. Of the man who was kind enough to accept your pathetic, whorish act. Then you will thank me afterwards, understand?” Hannibal pulls Will forward by the nipples, breaking the delicate skin open with his nails and drawing little droplets of blood, barely enough to coat his fingertips. Will stumbles forward with a cry, his legs forced to spread around the shoe pressed firmly against his crotch. His hands land further up the doctor’s thighs, and his neck strains further upward to meet eyes with Hannibal like he was told to.

“Yesss! Ohh fuck! Please, doctor, pleaaase!” Will chants, looking through lidded eyes right into the dark pits of maroon eyes, highlighted with what appeared to be a tinge of red. He finds himself lost when looking into those eyes, as if he is floating and losing all awareness of his surroundings. Floating on nothing but solid, firm hands that give him immense pleasure and security— safe and warm in between the cradle of Hannibal’s thighs.

Hannibal’s mouth flickers open in a smile, revealing sharp, glittering white fangs. “Take your pleasure, then, darling boy.”

As if a dam was broken, Will’s orgasm rips through him, forcing his body to double forward, his eyes still locked onto Hannibal's as his hips stutter and his balls draw tight, a high pitched cry ripping from his chest. He feels the powerful force of his cum shoot into his underwear, seeping through the fabric and onto the sole of the shoe he grinds on, creating an uncomfortable stickiness with each stroke of his hips, but the flood of chemicals in his bloodstream makes it hard for him to care.

Even after the initial intense waves have passed, he can feel the pleasurable tingles engulf his body, specifically in his balls and chest. He continued to ride his orgasm through the cants of his hips against the shoe, panting and shaking while maintaining an unfocused, yet direct eye contact with the older man above him, staring down at him in amusement, still teasing the boy’s nipples.

In a lazy orgasmic haze, he moans his gratitude, mouthing and licking at the bulge in between Hannibal’s thighs in appreciation. Hannibal’s eyes darkens, but he allows the ministrations for a moment, groaning deeply at the feel of Will’s warm mouth through his slacks. Then he cuts Will off by digging his nails back into his nipples, earning a high pitched moan muffled by Hannibal’s clothed cock, sending pleasurable vibrations through Hannibal’s balls.

Once the sensation crosses the line of overstimulation, Will keens his chest upward, trying to escape the overwhelming mix of pain and pleasure.

Hannibal grants him the mercy and lets go of his nipples, then abruptly pulls Will up into the his lap. Will falls forward into the man’s broad chest, boneless. The pleasant tingles remain throughout his body and brain, and he settles into a comfortable position atop Hannibal, his face buried in the man’s neck and inhaling that familiar comforting scent of what he can now identify as spiced cedar and coffee grounds. He feels a large hand at the back of his head, encouraging him to press himself tighter against him and breathe more of his scent in. Will doesn’t question it, all too happy to comply.

“You did so well for me, beautiful, darling boy. Exposing yourself to me and allowing me to bring you to your pleasure. Obedient, precious, cherubic thing.” Hannibal praises, his deep voice like a soothing melody to bring Will to sleep.

Will exhales a big sigh, a happy groan escaping his chest. He presses a sloppy kiss against Hannibal’s neck, then quite literally, passes out.

Hannibal smiles to himself.

Oh the fun he will have with this magnificent boy.

#smut #fanfiction #hannigram #hannibal #will graham #hannibal lecter #hannigram smut #hannibal loves will #hannibal lecter smut #will graham smut

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mambalae-s · 2 years ago

Text

fallen glory — ushijima wakatoshi x reader

wc: 3.2k words

cw: god! wakatoshi x nymph! reader; unprotected sex; breeding kink; size kink; wakatoshi is a big boi; reader is described as a black woman; degradation; manhandling; ; creampie; not proof read; if i’m forgetting anything please let me know!

notes from author: please, if you’re under 18, do NOT interact with or read this post. i will block you.

there are legends among mortal towns, the tellings of stories passed on by flesh and bone. a god, mankind will utter through shrouds of smoke, beneath fire-lit nights of centuries old, where the stars would even hold their breath to hear the words of divine destruction. a god so mighty and fearsome that wields power in his breath alone, that the earth would tear herself apart and offer her burning heart, that she would so desperately beseech her master that this mere sacrifice would be enough to please him. mankind would sing those sorrow-filled ballads of flaming rivers that sputtered brilliant embers, so brilliant in their dying glory that venus herself would weep and beg for mercy.

and this god, oh, this righteous and almighty god, his heart would mirror the depths of darkness. how cruel, this god, that he would beckon the tempests and the floods to destroy and ruin the earth, that he would paint wars and famine across endless seas and planes until there would be nothing left of man. when he bestows his wrath on bellowing thunders and rips the heavens asunder with magnificent lightning, he holds no mercy for the weak and unfaithful. his eyes behold, and his left hand cast their judgement, and the earth can do nothing but wait with bated breath as the universe stands still around her, powerless, and without charge of the pestilence that would next consume her and wipe her filthy soul clean once more.

oh, but who could imagine the divine’s demise at the hands of a damsel?

let these words not travel far, lest they spread across continents and reveal him for what he is. let the world not know of his mortality, of a heart that quivers before summer-touched evenings and sings wretched hymns of manly lust and desire. of his visits to the holy garden, they must not learn, even less should they know of the soul that resides there — the very same that would tame the tempest, and incite a hunger so ravenous and feral only to quench it all the same.

he’s here; you know without even looking, and your intuition tells you that he knows that you know. you don’t need to look behind you to know that wakatoshi’s watching you, eyes of gold and olive that stalk you like a hunter. he takes in every part of your image as a devotee does with visions. the droplets of water that glisten across dark brown skin, the sheer white fabric that clings to your full mounds and ass, barely doing anything to conceal your perked nipples, or the dip between your plush thighs. by the heavens, you truly are a vision of sin and desire — one that held the key to destruction between two-toned lips and written like scriptures among dark coils of hair akin to sacred vines.

“well?” you sigh, sinking further into the pond. the cool water kisses your skin with a tenderness that washes away the day’s searing heat. goosebumps rise across your body and you lull your head to the side, and that’s when you see him, your god come here to visit the garden of eden. “will you just stand there or are you gonna join me?”

how brazen, you must’ve sounded, irreverent as if you knew not the god who’d walked into your sanctuary. yet you knew all too well who he was, and you knew what he’d come for. you knew that, just with the sight of your body drenched in water, you could unravel this benevolent god and reduce him to nothing but a man lost in desire. since the first day he found you here on a lonely spring’s afternoon so many years ago, you’d somehow wrapped his tongue between your teeth and poisoned him with pleasure untold so that he would return time and time again. he reminds you of a lunatic, seeking the taste of your nectar like a man who knows nothing else, and you’d become his drug and his achilles heel, the very thing that could unwind this god and render him to nothingness.

the waters part to make way, welcoming wakatoshi into the pool as he comes close to you. his body presses against yours and he leaves no room between, so greedy in the way his fingers dip into your waist and burying his face into the crook of your neck to take in your scent. you reach up one hand to wrap into his long, jade green locks, and you pull him closer to you, eager to feel his lips leaving soft kisses across your skin.

“i can’t stop thinking about you…” he grumbles into your jawline, hungry and impatient. his fingers wrap into the thin fabric of your gown, nails digging into your flesh as he pulls you closer, pressing his hard cock into your ass as if he wants it to disappear between it. “fuck, what are you doing to me?”

you can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips, though you know there’d be no sense trying to. coyly, you reach for one of his hands and bring it down to your pussy, pressing his palm flat against it and pushing yourself further against his length. “nothing, darling.” the words that leave you are teasing, almost to test him — accentuated by your sugary laugh when his fingers begin to peel your dress against your skin without you needing to tell him. “it’s you who keeps coming back here on your own accord.”

his fingers dip between your thighs and your knees buckle a bit when they brush against your pussy. you’re wet, wakatoshi discovers your slick already pooling into his hands despite him hardly even touching you. tauntingly, he caresses you, pools your slick along his fingers as he so barely slides them between your swollen cunt to hear the hiss that slips out of your mouth.

“look at you,” he chuckles, condescending. “so needy already, hm? do you want a god’s cock to defile you that badly?”

he’s baiting you, drawing on your words like a puppeteer, you know it. only touching you ever so slightly, giving you the smallest taste of what he knows you want, yet he wants you to beg for it. he wants you to throw yourself unto desperate abandon and give yourself up to him. and it’s working too damn well. greedily, you try to sink yourself down on his fingers, but he quickly stops you with a hand around your throat. frustrated, you whimper. “wakatoshi…” you keen. “for god’s sake, stop toying with me already!”

his teeth sink into your neck suddenly, the sensation of his lips sucking on your flesh causing your pussy to flutter. “nngh…” overcome with weakness, your head falls back against his chest, and your eyes are forced to behold the behemoth of a man behind you; the glistening droplets that slide down olive skin and the furrowed lines atop his expression. his lips part on breaths heavy and weighted as he squeezes his fingers tighter around your throat, and your own breath catches beneath his grip. you’re left wanting, needing the very air he robs you of, needing him inside your core, needing him and everything he’d give to you.

ah, you think bitterly, i’ll lose this war again today.

“you know what i want to hear from you, little one.” wakatoshi’s words ghost against the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver, heat coursing through each pulse despite the chill of the water. he takes his hand from your soiled thighs and brings his fingers to his mouth, and you watch with eyes glazed by lust as he sucks your juices from them and groans. “hurry…” he huffs. his cock twitches against your ass impatiently, his balls almost ready to burst and bury themselves inside your tight little cunt. “you know i don’t like waiting…”

those words so heavy and fogged over by hunger, you know he’s teetering on the very edge of snapping, letting you know that you’re not the only one who wants the other. he makes slow, intentional work of licking his fingers clean and he sees the way your inhibitions snap behind your eyes, revels in the whimper that leaves your lips as your hands fly to remove your dress all on your own. your breasts fall freely for him to see them glistening under filtered sunlight and of sight of your pursed nipples causes his length to twitch hungrily against your ass.

“please…!” inhibitions abandon you, your pride lost on the incessant pulsing between your legs. you need him to fill you, to ravish and demolish you — you’re aching now, impatient, craving him, “please, toshi, i need you inside me… now!”

you see the very moment wakatoshi reaches his limits and he snaps.

a yelp escapes you as he hoists you up, spinning you around to lock your legs around his hip. his lips crash into yours, mercilessly pushing his tongue into your wet cavern like a beast as he drinks you in. he feels your moans rumbling through his chest and he responds in kind, the space between you non-existent and your body flushed against him.

“that’s a good girl.” whimpering, you claw your fingers into his back as if holding on for dear life. “that wasn’t so hard, was it?” you want to curse him for toying with you, want to shut that filthy, irreverent mouth of his but your mind is too cloudy to give anything but sweet pleas of his name. drool pools from between your lips as he draws his tongue along your neck, suckling and biting every inch of skin. you’ll bruise blue and purple, you know it, but you can’t bring yourself to care. you want him to mark you, want him to possess your body and soul.

your fingers tangle into his tresses of green hair and you pull, causing him to hiss against your neck. “enough already, wakatoshi..!” despite your harsh words, you know they sound like nothing but muddled pleas to him. he’s so much bigger than you, it’s hard to forget he still has control over you — the way his large palms squeeze your ass, the way your body has to sit just above his hip, it’s hard to forget that fact.

“just fuck me already! you act like you don’t know the things you do to me, haah, like you don’t know how much you make me want you even— nngh, even when… you’re not here…”

ah, but how unfair of you, isn’t it? how can you accuse him of such things when really, you’re the one who does this to him? how could you not know that your visage haunts him day and night? that he dreams of taking you over and over, of pumping your hole full of his seed until your tummy would swell? that even then, he’d keep filling you up, keening to hear those sweet, filthy cries of his name over and over? you must know what you do to him; he growls against your skin, sinking his teeth into your collar and causing you to cry out and pull against his hair. “then tell me what you want, darling…”

frustration bubbles within you like an erotic poison as you glare down into emerald orbs. have you not been clear enough for him? what prayers would it take to satisfy this insatiable god? for him to finally give himself to you and abandon all else? you’re already powerless here in his hands, your dress reduced to a soaking bundle that wraps around your waist where his hands palm your bare skin. the tip of his cock only barely touching your core, and you can do nothing but wait until he sinks you down unto it. struggle as you might, your need couldn’t be fulfilled until he wills it, until he finally lets in and use you like you want to be used.

“i want you to take responsibility…” pettily, you huff, eyes narrowing further at the coy grin that sits on his mouth. even with his flushed cheeks and your spit coating his skin, he looks up at you, waiting for you to finish. “i want you to destroy me and fuck me senseless. i want you to force me to take every drop of seed and use me until your fat cock empties out everything inside me.”

wakatoshi hums, pleased, it seems, by your words, though he knows he wouldn’t have been able to hold off any longer even if he hadn’t wrung them out of you. oh, the things you do to him without even knowing that turn him into a wild beast. he all but eagerly lines up the head of his throbbing dick to your entrance, and the warmth of it is already so welcoming as he parts your pussy lips, teasingly rubbing your clit.

“take responsibility, hm?” he purrs against your skin as you whimper, soon forcing out the loveliest scream of his name as he brings you down in one swift motion. he watched your eyes roll into the back of your head, drinks in the way your lips fly open as his length spreads you apart. his own eyes narrow and he clenches his teeth — your tight walls squeeze around him so deliciously, so small and delicate as they clamp around the intrusion. “such a pretty, fragile little doll, aren’t you? fuck…!”

god, he hadn’t even fully sunken into you yet, and already he felt himself hitting the tip of your cervix, pressing deeper and deeper and causing your entire body to convulse as drool pours from your lips, fat tears pooling on your waterline. your orgasm wrecks your body in waves and you tremble, already fucked too weak to even support yourself. helplessly, you fall limp into wakatoshi’s arms, neck lulling back so that you’re forced to look up at the god above you, forced to watch his face contort in mortal pleasure as your hole continues to needily suck him in.

“aww…” he coos at your pathetic form. he brings one hand to cup your messy cheek while the other continues to support your weight, pushing a thumb into your open lips. almost mindlessly, you latch unto it and begin sucking. “already? kitten, i’ve hardly done anything to you yet.” even then, wakatoshi wants more from you. he wants to fuck you senseless, break you to nothingness until you couldn’t think of anything but him inside you. so he pushes, deep past your walls until he fully buries himself inside you, his tip so deliciously hitting your womb. you squeal and tighten your legs at the sensation of him bottoming out of you, dig your nails deep into his arms as if to ground yourself from slipping further.

“w-wait…! please, toshi—!” you cry, though your words are lost on him, drowned by his heavy breaths as he presses his lips against yours, pleas swallowed up while your body shakes. “i only just came, i’m— nngaah! ‘m too sensitive, slow down— fuck! ahh!”

despite your begging, wakatoshi doesn’t give you a moment to recover. he sets a relentless pace of pounding into you, pushing deeper and deeper, the sound of his balls clapping so filthily against your slick not yet enough to hide each honey-coated wail he forces out of you. “you said to… hnngn— take responsibility, didn’t you?” roughly, he wraps his hand around your throat and forces you to look up at him, all so he can take in that beautifully fucked expression you wear, teardrops lining your lashes and your mouth wantonly gasping for air. “that’s exactly what i’m doing, darling. isn’t this what you wanted?”

“yes..!” you can’t deny it. lying to him would be no use, it’s too late to try. your body’s already betrayed you for the pleasure he gives you, your battered hole pulsing around him with each thrust as he stretched you impossibly wide. “yes, wakatoshi..! fuck! i wanted you to fuck me n use me just like this!”

he chuckles, sinful and ungodly, as he releases his hold on your throat to place it around your waist and pulls you down, over and over, repeatedly until your body can do naught but fall to his mercy. “haah..! nngh….! fuck, fuck, fuuuck!”

“that’s it, kitten, just like that.” oh, heavens help him, he already feels himself beginning to waver, his hips staggering as he drives into you. he’s so close, his cock twitching viciously inside your beaten pussy, so close to exploding and filling you up. “take everything, you hear me? i’m gonna cum deep inside your filthy little cunt, and you better take all of it. gonna breed you again and again.”

“mhn! mhn! mhhn!” you’re far too gone to even understand the words he growls at you, far too gone to care for much else other than the sensation of him breaking you apart, or for the prayer you let escape your corrupted heart. “do it..! do it, waka…! let everything out and cum inside me, please, please, please!”

oh, how good did it feel to be at his mercy, to let him ruin you time and time again, at his beck and call. beneath his hold, you release all senseless moral and surrender to the wicked hunger of a being far greater than you. without warning, your body convulses beneath your pleasure as your second orgasm crashes over you. it rips through every vein in your body and releases itself from your core and you scream, your mind gone blank as you cream and squirt all over him. the very coil wound so tightly within your gut breaks like a tidal wave and pushes you off the edge, and after a few more harsh thrusts, you’re granted your reward.

wakatoshi grunts and gasps as his cock bursts his cum inside you, near panting as he pulls you flush against his hip and forces every drop into your delicate womb. his fingers dig deep into your doughy flesh, moans falling from him like a man needing air. he’d spent every last drop inside of you, his chest heaves on the aftershocks of pleasure, but gods be damned, he isn’t through with you yet. you, crumbled against his chest and fucked positively dumb, he hadn’t yet had his fill of you.

“h-hey, wakatoshi, what’re you—!” your startled shout goes unheard by the god as he forces you off his cock, only to bend you over rear up against the edge of the pool. shivers involuntary wreck your body, your whole clenching and your form already weakened by him. “please, i can’t take anymore, lemme rest a little— gaah!”

he silences you quickly by pushing his fingers into your stretched hole, pushing his cum back inside you as your walls object, already far too sensitive. “didn’t you hear me?” he grins, though you can’t see his expression from behind you. so, he pulls you up by your neck, grinning as he towers over your small frame. oh, how feeble and defenseless you stood before him, your legs couldn’t even support your frame, and it was all because of him.

“i said i’d make sure to fill up this tight little cunt. i’m not just done with you yet.”

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minniebbang · 7 months ago

Text

Back to him | K.Seungmin

summary: after a long day at work, nothing excited you more than going home.

Genre: fluff

words count: 0.9 k words

small note: It's my first post here and I hope this is good(somehow). Hope you enjoy reading this. Feedbacks are appreciated!

The growling of the cars and rustling footsteps subsided as darkness painted itself into the blank sky’s canvas. You bid one of your co-workers goodbye before gazing at your work desk. Is everything fine? A load of files that were supposed to be sent in tomorrow had been arranged neatly on the right side of your desk and the once scattered work papers had been combined into a tall stack of paper. A sigh of relief left your lips, finally, another stressful day had closed itself.

It was time to return home, returning to him if you were honest.

You flicked the light off and headed to the train station with a black jacket draped on your arm. It didn’t take a long time for you to arrive because the road was empty at this hour. Only the glowing streetlight and your own shadow accompany you throughout your walk. You purchased a ticket from the machine and went to your designed platform.

It’s 11.30 a.m, was he still there?

As you stepped onto the last stair, a wave of chilly air crashed, causing you to shiver under the piece of your thin clothing. You quickly wore the jacket, the end of the sleeve hanging loosely under your fingertips. It was obvious to anyone that it wasn’t yours. The smell of his cologne wrapped itself around you. His scent always reminded you of the sweet smell of vanilla and cinnamon, calming and comforting, like his existence in your life. That was why you insisted on keeping his jacket to yourself, although he begged to have it back because it was his favourite jacket.

The missing had overgrown in you and to say you were nothing but excited to meet him was an understatement. You settle down on a nearby bench and pluck your earphones in. The song began as your vision slowly filled with late-night workers who just got off work like you. Resting your head against the wall behind you, you let yourself drown in his voice. It still amazes you how his voice blends perfectly with the delicate sound of the piano.

The announcement of the upcoming train forced you to get up. You trailed behind those who entered the train first and sat at any vacant seat, coincidentally across a couple. The girl had rested her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder as they laced their hand together. A small smile spread on your face.

“Hope you are happy with him forever.” You silently whispered in your heart and looked ahead, praying the train would stop at your destination quickly. There was nothing worth looking out the window actually, it was just one of your ways to forget the boredom of waiting. Unfortunately, your home was the last destination of the night so you had a bit of time to sleep.

You didn’t realise how much had passed until the woman on the speaker woke you up, You rubbed your eyes, getting rid of the sleep before leaving the train. Stuffing your hand into the jacket’s pocket, you made your way to a cafe where you knew the direction by your heart. The cafe seemed to be the only shop open at this time. You pushed the door and the windchime on top of the door chimed, grabbing the boy on the counter's attention but he didn’t glance up, still occupied by his chores. He had rolled up his white sleeves and under the light, you saw sweat beamed on his forehead.

He stayed behind although there was absolutely nothing to do left. The tables were cleaned even the signboard had flipped to close.

“I’m sorry but the cafe has closed, please come back tomorrow.”

“If I leave, where will I spend the night, min?” You tilted your head

His action of wiping the counter halted as he raised his head. A soft smile conquered his face as he saw you. He abandoned the napkin and walked to you.

“Outside.” He cooed and held your shoulder, pushing you to the exit. You narrowed your eyes toward him only for him to chuckle.

“I’m joking! You’re late tonight, some hassle at your office?”He engulfed you in a tight hug, face buried in your hair. He pulled away and kissed your lips briefly.

“My co-worker as usual. We made a bet and I lost. So, lunch on me tomorrow, how delightful!”

As you kept rambling about your day in the office, he looked at you with tender eyes, listening attentively to your story. He needed to admit, you look adorable when you were so into the story you were telling. He could sit and listen to your story every day.

“That must be exhausting. A cup of hot chocolate will cheer you up a bit!” He beamed and rushed behind the counter to prepare the drink. You chuckled and went to him.

“Both of us are. Let’s close the cafe and head upstairs, min.”

“Are you sure you don’t need any drink?”

You nodded and grabbed his hand to the staircase, shutting the light to the cafe off. Seungmin removed his apron and hung it on the rack beside the stairs. How convenient it was, your house was above the cafe. After changing your clothes, you joined Seungmin in bed. His arm instantly wrapped itself around your waist, pecking at the crown of your head and whispering goodnight.

To be in his embrace, to be this close to him was what you called home and you were thankful that you could experience this every night.

#skz imagines #seung #seungmini #seungmin x reader #skz #skz x reader #fluff

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httpknjoon · 9 months ago

Text

eagle-eyed | ksj

plot | That time Jin saw you arriving on set with someone else.

word count | 805

genres | fluff(?)

pairing | actor!jin x famous!reader

note | my first drabble about them in their pre-relationship era! this one's short but enjoy reading!

main masterlist | the a-listers: confidential masterlist

It was around the first week of your filming for your second movie together, Lonely People.

Jin was just having a small chat with one of the crew guys from the sound department when he noticed an unfamiliar car arriving at the set. It’s not like he knows every vehicle in the set but this one caught his eye. It’s one of Bentley’s latest releases. So, whoever it is in that car does have a thick pocket. But he could not tell who it was. The glasses were tinted very dark.

Additionally, it was a very early call time, before four in the morning to be exact. The skies were still in deep shade of blue. The scene he is about to shoot with you includes a beautiful sunrise, that’s why.

When the car stopped in one of the less crowded spaces, a bit distant from where was Jin standing. he was surprised to see you got off the passenger side of the car. You were wearing a loose white button-up shirt, tucked in your high-waist jeans. Your hair was tied in a messy bun, which is fine since you still have to go in the makeup chair before getting in front of the camera.

He watched your back leaning in inside the car once again, as if talking to the mystery driver, before closing the door. Even though it’s a little dim, Jin catches a small glimpse of the driver. With a medium-sized coffee in hand and a shoulder bag on the other, you walked in the direction of the parked trailer. Jin said goodbye to the crew member he was talking with before following behind you.

“Hey, bub.” he greeted you.

“Oh, hello, Jinnie. Good morning.” Turning around, you smiled before leaning in to give him a friendly cheek kiss.

He didn’t mean to be weird. But that short interaction gave him a small sniff of a strong scent in your hair. It was familiar and he could tell that it was men’s shampoo. He tried to shake off any thoughts bubbling in his mind. Instead, he asked,

“Where’s Hailey?”

“She’s coming. We came with different cars, a friend drove me here,” you replied while typing in your phone before sipping in your coffee.

Jin reiterated, “A friend?”

His strange tone made you turn around to look at him. You stared at his face like you were studying his expression. He simply grinned.

“Yes, Jinnie. A friend,” you repeated, squinting, before walking again.

Jin continues to follow behind you until you stop in front of your trailer. He spoke again, “Well, your friend looks like the popular Kim Taehyung.”

Kim Taehyung is another well-known name in the industry. He is one of Hollywood’s favorite heartthrobs. Other than his works, he is also popular in gossip magazines with his ever-changing dating rumors. He is often captured by paparazzi hanging out with various actresses and personalities. His rumors often paint him as a womanizer.

As if the name was something illegal, you immediately looked around before pulling Jin, by his shirt, inside your trailer. You locked the door and eyed him.

You sighed, “Okay, it’s him. We’ve been seeing each other for like weeks now.”

Jin never knew how hard it was not to slump his shoulder until now. He didn’t want to look like he was disappointed or jealous because he wasn’t. He wasn’t. He. Wasn’t.

“And I really like him. He seems very nice and sweet too. Plus, we are enjoying the company of each other. But it would really suck if the media gets their hands on us. So, I’m begging you, Kim Seokjin. Please, don’t tell anyone about this.”

Pleading, you looked at him.

And your eyes. Your eyes were doing those things on him. Again. Every time you look at him, he always sees those sparkles that he cannot see with anyone else. It does things in him that usually include a million butterflies playing around in his stomach.

Feeling something stuck in his throat, he cleared his throat. The anxiety is written all over your face and he can understand why. Dating is hard in Hollywood. Privacy doesn’t exist for everyone here. But if you manage to keep a relationship secret, it can be really nerve-wracking to maintain it. And you saying this to him meant that you truly trust him. So, Jin exhaled through his nose. He raised his hand and acted to zip his mouth before throwing the imaginary key away.

He spoke, “I saw nothing, bub. What are you saying?”

Your expression relaxed while the corner of your lips turned upward. You wrapped your arms around his waist,

“Thank you so much, Jin. I appreciate it. A lot.”

“No problem, bub.” Jin hugged you back as he whispered, hoping it would hide whatever he was feeling.

THE A-LISTERS: CONFIDENTIAL TAGLIST

@xiumo @joonsbvtch @firesighgirl @qualityjoonie @txtlyn @yoontaethings @zwiehe

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21

#jin x reader #jin fluff #bts jin #jin fic #jin au #seokjin x reader #seokjin fanfiction #seokjin fluff #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts series #the a listers ksj #the a listers: universe lol

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hauntedhowlett-writes · 2 years ago

Note

ok but now I need more Joel and reader neighbour domestics??? Like him leaving her a post it note with his internet password and him helping her feed the cats and she helps him with his plants and setting up the damn skeleton and then throwing neighbourhood barbecues together 🥺🥺🥺

okay so i literally couldn't rest until i wrote these up so if my assignments are work are late, i'm blaming you.

title: in a feud with her neighbor - bonus scenes

read the main work here

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader

rating: PG-13 (mild language)

word count: 1084

summary:

Fluffy bonus scenes for "in a feud with her neighbor" as suggested by anon!

Content warnings/tags: not a standalone work, pre-outbreak, no sarah, established relationship, still pretending the 12 ft skeleton existed in 2003, joel gets his butt grabbed by a neighbor. This is pretty much just fluff.

“The internet is out again,” you whine. You’re in your bed with Joel, the man turned on his side facing away from you. He looks over his shoulder, eyes narrowed.

“Good. Go to sleep,” he grumbles before burying his face back into the pillow that is now his pillow. It always smells like ocean salt and eucalyptus, while your own pillow smells like lavender and vanilla.

The sheets, however, are a beautiful combination of both.

You huff but reach over to your nightstand and turn off the lamp. You scooch in closer to him, snuggling up to his back and spooning him. You let his deep breaths lull you to sleep.

The next morning, Joel’s already left for work in the early hours of the morning, a kiss pressed to your sleep warm skin as a goodbye. When you shuffle into the bathroom to get ready, there’s a pink Post-It with familiar messy handwriting stuck to the mirror.

GetYourOwnPassword03

-Joel

________

There’s a package on your porch when you get home from work. You tear into it immediately, pulling out the new planters you bought as a surprise for Joel.

They were an Etsy find, a set of three white planters that say “WHAT THE FUCCULENT”, “LOOKIN’ SHARP”, and “DON’T BE A PRICK” and a bigger planter that reads “PLANT DADDY”. You giggle as you line them up on the counter.

Joel sees them when he comes over that evening, freshly showered and already wearing his pajama pants and your favorite threadbare shirt. He can barely stop laughing long enough to thank you.

“PLANT DADDY” sits in a place of pride by his front door, glued down to the concrete so that the cats can’t knock it over.

________

Joel is a grill master. He will spend a ridiculous amount of time at the deli, scrutinizing every package of beef while you hang onto the cart and wither away like a suffering Victorian woman.

“Joel, please, I’m begging you,” you say, “just pick the steaks.”

“Hush, sweetheart, I have a process,” he replies, not once looking away from the two packages of New York strip he holds.

“Just get both!” You beg. “Lots of steak! Great compromise!”

He glares at you. “We have to make a good impression.”

“A good impression on who? They’re our neighbors. They already like us! Half the moms in the neighborhood want to fuck you!”

Joel nearly drops the steaks. “They what?!”

You can’t breathe because you’re laughing so hard at the shocked look on Joel’s face. He sets both packages of steak in the cart before grabbing the handle from you and leaving you in tears in the deli.

Later that night, Joel finds you in the crowd and grabs your arm.

“I think Mrs. Matthews grabbed my ass,” he says.

You pull him close, slipping a hand into the back pocket of his jeans and giving him a peck on his lips.

“Told ya,” you tease.

________

Joel watches the Home Depot website like a hawk as soon as September hits. His buddy who works at the store said that online orders would open within the first couple of weeks. Finally, the button turns from gray to orange, and he places his order immediately.

When it’s delivered a few weeks later, you’re so excited that you ask Joel to set it up immediately.

“It’s not even October yet, baby. Can you wait another week?” He asks. You pout, but you agree. Only if he’ll set up both skeletons on the first day of October and not wait until the last minute like he did the year before.

Which is how he finds himself teetering on the top rung of his ladder, trying to set the skull on the frame while you watch from the ground. When he finally gets it screwed on, he’s slick with sweat and cursing up a storm.

“How’s that look?” He asks when he gets down from the ladder and stands beside you.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, tugging him into a kiss.

“It’s perfect.”

________

Joel walks into your house one day, plastic bags hanging from his arms. The clinking of metal against metal announces his arrival.

“Joel? Whatcha got there?” You ask, drying your hands on the dish towel hanging from the stove, one that says “JUST ROLL WITH IT” with an image of a rolling pin beneath it.

He sets the bags on the counter. “Cat food.”

You blink at him. “Cat food? You bought cat food?”

“Yeah, you mentioned you were running low. Besides, there’s a new calico out there so you gotta start puttin’ out more. Where’s the bowls?”

He moves around the kitchen with practiced ease, grabbing a spoon and the set of plastic bowls you reserve for the neighborhood cats. It hits you at that moment.

You love Joel Miller.

Your smile is huge when he turns to look at you and he freezes like a deer caught in the headlights. You close the gap between you, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him close.

“I love you,” you murmur into his chest. His arms wrap around your shoulders and you feel the press of his lips to your head.

“I love you, too.”

________

BONUS BETTY CONTENT

Joel wakes early the next morning after his first night with you, your naked body still curled in his. He smiles down at you before gently pulling himself from your grasp, stifling his laugh at how you pout in your sleep before rolling over, snuggling into your pillow. He finds the stack of familiar pink Post-Its on your nightstand, scribbling out a note that he’s gone to pick up breakfast and coffee and would be back soon.

He puts on his now dry swim trunks and leaves the house, shutting the door quietly behind him. The neighborhood is still asleep, the sun barely cresting the horizon as he leaves your porch.

“Leavin’ so soon, Mr. Miller?” Betty’s raspy voice calls. He freezes, feeling like a teen caught sneaking out of his house.

“Good mornin’, Betty,” he says, turning slowly to face her. She’s got a knowing smirk on her face.

“What was it I said about the two of you hittin’ it off?” She asks, tapping a finger to her lips. Joel can feel his cheeks heat.

“You were right,” Joel admits.

“I know, dear. I always am. Now, could you bring me back a doughnut while you’re out? Double chocolate. With sprinkles.”

“Yes, m’am.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller fluff #established relationship #idiots in love

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shesjustanothergeek · 10 months ago

Text

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Thirty-One

Masterlist of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: This will be a heavy one, besties. We're getting into the story's darker and potentially triggering side, so I've given more detail than I usually do about warnings. Also, the song Ptolemaea by Ethel Cain heavily inspired this chapter, and I really, really recommend listening to it to connect with the reader. Thank you so much for reading!

Chapter Warnings: graphic depictions of dissociation, seizures, sexual assault, misogyny, incontinence, attempted rape, power imbalances, and murder. You have been warned.

Red Butterflies Meanings: courage, passion, the life-death cycle, fire, and survival.

"Even the iron still fears the rot

Hiding from something I cannot stop

Walking on shadows, I can't lead him back,

Buckled on the floor when night comes along..."

- Ptolemaea, Ethel Cain

Arryk's head spun when he finally reached White Sword Tower, his armor bearing the weight of his emotions as he yanked the knots that held them together, discarding it haphazardly across his chamber. The more he thought of what he witnessed, the more his head pounded, the pain building inside until he could no longer stand it, and vomit spewed into his chamber pot.

He was an imbecile, a fool, no better than the court jester who embarrassed themselves for others' entertainment.

Arryk knew that you and Prince Aegon were close. You spent most of your days with him or Helaena as any kin would, but he should have learned, paid closer attention, and protected you from the Prince's ensnarement.

Sometimes, the knight would notice the Prince too close, a hand resting in an unusual spot or a stare lingering far longer than what was proper, but he thought nothing of it. You were a capable woman. You were far better at standing your ground than any other noblewoman regarding a male's advances. He saw for himself with the Lord Reaper of Pyke.

Perhaps that was a lie. Maybe you were not the strong woman he believed. Maybe you rejected advances because your sights were set on someone else, your heart on someone else, not because you held your honor to a high degree. You made your own choices–made your bed. You could save your own against the vices of the opposite sex yet make the choices of a hoydenish woman, and that was what Arryk sinkingly realized.

It was your choice.

***

Your chest felt hollow as you stared out a paned window in Aegon's chambers as he laced the back of your dress. The hours after Arryk's intrusion were spent inside the Prince's rooms listening to his apologies. His pleas and snivels were disregarded as you stared at the vast expanse of King's Landing.

"I'm so sorry," he cried, rubbing his tear-stained cheeks into the crook of your neck. "I am a fool. I should never have done such a thing. I-I should have protected your honor," he stuttered, swallowing the excess saliva in his mouth. "Please, speak to me. Yell at me, strike me, please just anything."

Your emotions had switched off like the flicker of a candle flame, tears long dried and left to crack on your skin. "What is there to say that you have not?"

Aegon sobbed further into you in admission, the weight of his actions lowering him to the floor as he crumbled at your feet, shoving his face into your thick skirts. He reminded you of his son who screamed and wailed if you ignored him, the same soft, wavy blonde hair below you, begging to be touched.

You did not feel anger towards the Prince. It would have been better if you did, but you could not force it in spite of your best efforts. It felt like nothing. No simmering rage threatened to boil, no sadness or embarrassment pulling at your gut. No emotion. Simply and utterly nothing, and it felt wrong. You needed to show something to sense anything.

Imagining all the hardships you faced, Ma's abandonment and the death of Lyra and Sara proved fruitless. Only when Aegon became too grabby and pinched the flesh of your thighs then did you feel something.

Pain.

It was the sensation that guided the victories of some and the downfalls of others. It brought you back to reality, feeling Aegon's rapid breathing on your wrist and realizing you had not been inside your body despite your mind moving.

"All will be forgiven with time," you decided, hand moving to stroke the fine strands on your fair-haired boy's head, "but you must swear to me you shall never do such a thing again. You will work on yourself to find what causes you to commit such atrocities. I cannot mend what has been broken if you do not know what needs to be."

You sensed Aegon's gaze on you before he spoke, nodding profusely. "I will, I will! I will do anything for you, my love!" he simpered, rubbing the tears and mucus from his lips.

"No, Aegon," you said firmly, his eyes snapping to his bleary ones. You must do this for yourself. Not for me."

He knew better than to speak again, for the only words he would utter would debase himself further, so he bobbed his head and pulled your legs closer in a mock embrace. He loved you so... so much.

"I must confront Ser Arryk about this," you began, your voice one of practice. "You will need to be the unmoving rock that the waves crash against for me. Arryk is furious and I fear he will say things that might hurt me far worse than any blow."

"I shall kill him if he tries to," Aegon declared with a fierce glint in his eyes.

While it pleases you to no end, the depth of his affections is unnecessary.

"No," you stated firmly, bending at the waist to pull your lover up to his full height, "you will do no such thing. I need your support, not your wrath."

He stared at you sternly as if ready to take up arms and defend your honor, and it warmed your heart, finally feeling something other than empty. You smiled delicately, the tug barely there as you kissed the wrinkles between Aegon's pale brows, smoothing his unruly hair.

"I love you," the words were like an oath as if this was the first time you had uttered them, "more than I could ever explain. I want you to remember that. Always."

Aegon was speechless, taken aback by the sudden gravity of your confession that he had already heard many times before. He knew he could only show his appreciation in one way when words were useless. Kissing your lips with a breathless intensity that nearly knocked you off your feet, he slowly kneeled before you.

The Prince wrote his apologies with his tongue on your cunt, drank the sweet nectar from between your legs gratefully, and once you peaked, digits twisting and pulling his silver hair, he thanked you and begged to allow him to do it once more.

***

It was nearly impossible to track Ser Arryk after he left; even asking his twin brother led you to no answer. There was one place he could be, but you could not set foot in White Sword Tower. The mere thought of it stole the air from your lungs. Instead, you found it less vexing to wait until his inevitable appearance. After all, he swore an oath to you, and those who broke them received punishments worse than death.

Searching for your sworn shield, you ran into some welcoming faces and some not. Young Dyana was the first for you to greet along with another nursemaid now carrying the nearly fluent Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. Your littlest cousins were ecstatic to see you, almost knocking you to your knees as they squealed in delight, telling you of their day. Prince Jaehaerys declared with such vehemence that he would be as skilled as a swordsman as you, and when you brought up his Uncle Aemond, who was just formidable, he shook his head.

"There are a lot of Uncle Aemonds," he said, "there are no yous."

No matter the circumstances, the twins always make you smile. And just the same, Larys Strong's appearance asking you to share a bottle of wine regarding the previous subject he discussed always makes you scowl.

It was the hour of ghosts before the guard change, forcing you to stay awake with needlework in your hands. You applauded him for choosing such a late time, but he underestimated your will, as men often find themselves victims of.

And that was where you found yourself, staring into the once kind, soft blue eyes, now cold, impenetrable, and filled with venom.

Ser Cargyll's reaction confused you. He was your protector, not your father, but even then, you were optimistic that Daemon would be proud of what you had done. Was it because he only knew of the Aegon spoken of in rumors? The one who ate, drank, whored, and gambled in gluttonous amounts. Did he think you needed protecting from the contents of courtly gossip?

"I understand your apprehension about Aegon," you began, taking a deep breath and readying yourself for a monologue, "but I can assure you I can handle a spoiled prince."

"I have no doubt in that," Ser Arryk huffed, crossing his arms with a sneer. You were physically taken aback, your head shaking as if he struck you in the face. "Seeing as you took his cock like a common Flea Bottom whore."

Mouth gaping like a fish, you gasped, surprised at the gull of your sworn shield. The man who had comforted you after the abuse you received from Septa Mariam was insulting you and, in a way, he knew would hurt you deeper.

"I beg your pardon?" you questioned aghast, eyes wide as the conversation between friends turned to one of enemies.

"What? Did he fuck you deaf too?"

You sighed heavily, mouth in a deep frown as you glanced away, attempting to comprehend how to proceed. Anger was slowly rising within you, like the tide of Blackwater Bay, but you refused to let it control you. "I see," you answered dejectedly, "you believe like the rest of them... the rumors." It hurt to finally confront someone who thought of Aegon so lowly, having been woefully unprepared for the sheer hostility. "But you must put your trust in my judgment not to love someone who is so wretched."

"I loved you. I swore my life to you, my blood to you, and yet..." he paused, clenching his chestnut-beard jaw before cracking, "You desire a monster."

Arryk's statements befuddled you, causing you to let out an ugly guffaw. "You speak of oaths, yet your words are empty. Did you not promise to stay by my side no matter the cost? To spill your blood and offer guidance when needed and when not?" He gave you no response, his stare filled with all the hatred of the Seven Hells. "You are sworn to me!" You shouted in desperation, arms gesturing with each passionate phrase he refused to answer with only disgust.

"I am sworn to the King," he answered like a blade cracking through your ribs.

"You are an oath breaker, Ser Arryk Cargyll. Men have been punished more for less," you declared with ire, your voice husky from your previous statements.

Arryk understood what you meant by those words—the unspoken outcome of death to those who returned to their promises.

"You would never punish me," he flatly stated as if he had just said a mundane fact about the weather.

You nodded in acquiescence, sucking your cheek as if you tasted something vile. "You are correct. I am not the vile bastard people claim me to be. I do not betray and break promises I have sworn before the Old Gods and the New! Do not go back on your words simply because of your own emotions."

"I love you! I care about you morning and night, not him! I've been the one to weather the storms of your life! I have protected your honor from those who thought to use it because I believed you were kind and good!" he yelled, blue veins popping from his pale neck. "I thought of breaking my vow to the King for you! Creating a life for us where you would be free of judgment and duties, from the whispers and gossip of nobles, but you-"

"You speak as if it is my fault for your fantasies, that I gave you love letters and kisses and sang ballads." You refused to accept any blame for this. "You are a man and responsible for your own emotions, not me. Take your leave and return when you have come to your senses," you declared with finality.

He acted like a petulant child- far worse than you had ever seen Aegon. The man seemed entitled to your emotions as if you owed him for not reciprocating his feelings.

Arryk could not stand this. How could you be so selfish and uncaring? He loved you. He loved you! Why didn't you love him back?

"You are your blood," he spat, raising a gloved finger in ridicule, "a harlot and a monster."

It felt as if you got a blow to the chest, arms wrapping securely around yourself. You loved your Father and your Mother; they were good people. So why did it hurt?

Ser Arryk left without another word, large oak doors slamming shut behind him. He entered without hesitance when he reached another set of intricately carved wood, fitting that of only those who lived in Maegor's Holdfast.

The Queen sat within her solar, a cup of evening tea resting on a saucer in her lap. She wore her dressing gown, staring idly into the warmth of the fire as Ser Arryk's presence caused a start. Ser Criston stood not too far from Alicent, the hand on the pommel of his sword as he began to scold the knight.

"Ser Cargyll, what is the meaning of this?" Criston questioned, irritation laced in his words. Arryk had not realized he was out of breath until he attempted to speak, words becoming difficult to create. "I must speak with her grace. Tis a matter of great urgency."

Ser Criston bristled, scowling as he stood tall in the face of the disheveled knight. "You may speak to her highness on the morrow. It is too late for audiences and hardly proper."

Arryk sucked in a breath as he readied to protest but was stopped short by the rise of the Queen's hand. Her protector stared at her in confusion, telling with his eyes that he was not pleased with her allowance of this.

"Please, ser," Alicent spoke with her smooth alto, gesturing to the area before her.

Ser Arryk took a few calming inhales, wanting to speak as eloquently before the Queen Consort of the Seven Kingdoms, giving her a brief bow. He was unsure of how to word it. He knew if he spoke with the scorn he felt within, Alicent might not perceive the honesty of his confession and take it as an upset man with bruised pride.

"I have served as a steadfast member of the Kingsguard. I have not shied away from any challenge nor dishonored him," he began, the rise and fall of his chest steady. "I did not cower when your father, the Lord Hand, tasked me with protecting the King's granddaughter. However, lately, there have been revelations that have caused me to question where my loyalties lie. I seek your guidance, my Queen, regarding the Princess." The Queen stared at him with concern, brows wrinkled, and plump lips pursed.

"I happened upon your son, Prince Aegon, and the Princess within his bed chambers."

Ser Criston could not hide his shock, glancing at Queen Alicent to see her unphased reaction. "I initially believed the situation to be non-consensual, but her grace explained that it was not, that they are in love. It worries me that if word should travel and Prince Daemon discovers the relationship, I should be punished for not protecting her honor."

He purposefully hid the valid reason for his appearance, knowing he could be punished if he revealed it.

Alicent inhaled, silently relieved that someone else shared her concerns regarding you and her son. She placed her tea on the foot table before her, gently wiping the corners of her lips and clearing her throat.

"I understand your concern, Ser Arryk. Who all knows of this?" she inquired with a frown.

"Just my brother, Erryk, and I. He has known for some time but protects the Prince's secrets."

"I see," she responded, voice resigned. "I thank you most graciously for coming to me. You have done your duty well, ser. You needn't shoulder this burden any longer. I shall take care of the matter. You may take your leave."

The knight bowed his head, the weight on his chest still there, but not for political affairs, as he swiftly exited, thanking the Queen for her time.

Criston studied Alicent once the knight left, eyes scanning over her form. He could tell from the years of servitude when she was hiding something, her fingers begging to pick at her digits, but being the ever-dutiful protector, he remained silent.

The Queen stewed in the quiet, her teeth gnawing on her plush lip. Endless outcomes ran wild through her mind, all of them creating a ball of anxiety. Finally, when she was too far lost in her thoughts, she grabbed her tea and took a calming sip.

"Ser Criston," she spoke, startling her sworn shield, "please summon Lord Larys. I wish to speak with him."

***

You found yourself within the Godswood as you always did in times of strife, gazing up into the golden leaves of a Cottonwood, the soft rustle of branches reminding you of inaudible whispers. They were hard to make within the darkness, only able to see the outlines with the dusting of stars, but they gave you comfort. The Old Gods watched you with their unseen eyes as your fingertips traced the rough bark, grass crunching beneath your boots.

You recalled your first time within the Godswood since arriving in King's Landing, trying to seek peace yet being disturbed by a drunk and blubbering Aegon. The memory pulled a smile onto your cold cheeks, a nostalgic feeling coming over you as you thought of your time under the Heart Tree together. It felt like an age ago now. Such foolishness you did then...

You hadn't returned to Aegon yet, needing time within yourself to fully comprehend such a betrayal from your knight. It was still raw, the wound gaping and pooling with blood as it seeped into the sod below. Arryk hurt you far more than you ever thought him capable.

Your relationship with the knight began purely logistically. You needed to gather as many allies as possible, and you had succeeded by having your maids, Madam's web of spies in the Keep, and a Prince and Princess. The now missing piece was a protector. Some of you desired to march to the Commander of The Kingsguard, Ser Harrold, and tell him how Arryk had betrayed his oath in more ways than one, but you could not.

You had unknowingly shattered Ser Arryk's heart, and some part of you that had grown fond of the knight was pained because of it. You were confident that he would return once he fully understood you did not mean to do so and would forgive him.

Suddenly, a quiet cracking noise came from the far corner of the Godswood. Your head snapped, and your hand instinctively went to your dagger. Instead of a foe, the metal and glass shack of Helaena's butterfly hut stood, the rhythmic thunk, thunk, thunk becoming louder as you trekked across the yard.

You observed in awe as a newly hatched butterfly, a mix of red, black, and tan, white dots that looked like eyes, flapped its inexperienced wings, repeatedly flying into the glass wall. Your heart broke for the insect, glancing at the door. If you unlatched the shack, you could free the singular insect for a time of freedom beyond its transparent cage but doom the rest of the cocoons to the frost. Or you could leave it to be the only one that dies, continuing the life cycle for the dozen other insects evolving into their destined form.

You stared at the lone creature for a moment, your teeth tugging at your lip before making your way to the inside of the Red Keep.

***

When you entered your hall, seeing no guard at the door was surprising. Usually, you expect to catch a member of the Gold Cloaks fast asleep outside your door, especially if Ser Arryk was not posted. You did not think the knight was so careless as to leave a member of the royal family unguarded, but people acted out of character in anger, so you did not hold it against him.

Upon entering your chambers, you found the cause of the missing protector. Lord Larys Strong sat at your dining table, the flagon of wine he promised glinting in the candlelight.

"I see now why there is no guard at my chambers," you began, eyes scanning the Lord for any potential threat. "Did you pay him or offer a girl indebted to you?"

Larys grinned, mirth in his stare, and bowed his head as his palms rested on the firefly of his cane. Would it be so terrible if you broke the thing?

"Princess, you speak so lowly of me. Words like that wound a man's heart." He brought his hand to his chest, emphasizing the mock pain. "I have come to have that drink with you."

You stared at him skeptically, your eyelids slit as you placed your fur coat across the back of an empty chair at the table. "I do not recall agree to such an invitation," you spoke, taking your seat and peering into the red liquid inside the glass.

Larys took his drink, lifting his cup in a slight toast. You followed his actions, sipping the cup demurely as only an action of politeness. It stunned you momentarily that the Lord had chosen your favorite Essosi wine, flashing him a tight-lipped smile as he watched expectantly. "I do hope your only reason for being here is not regarding our previous conversation. My mind has not changed."

"I understand it has not, Princess, but I want you to understand that I have yet to fail the Queen and do not intend to do so now," he responded with a stern furrow of his brow.

Rolling your eyes, you groaned, taking another sip of your wine before speaking. "I am not leaving King's Landing, and that is final. Queen Alicent knows now that I shall not, and neither of you has the power to do so." You stood from your chair, fists on your hips as you leaned against the oak table, looking down at the crooked man. "I am here in my Mother's stead. You recall the Lords trying to remove me from the Small Council and how it faired?"

The Master of Whispers nodded in recollection, crossing his ankles as he gazed above at you, his mousy brown hair falling behind his ears. "I remember that, indeed. It was quite a sight," he chortled, "you inspired enough courage in the King to leave his sick bed, and not even the namedays of his children could do that."

You giggled at his words, but it quickly became a cough, your mouth dry as you took a swig of the Essosi wine to coat your throat. "Yes, and you remember his words? That I'm to be retreated as an extension of Princess Rhaenyra. You would not remove the heir to the Iron Trone from her rightful seat?"

The Strong Lord hummed through his nose, taking a drink in silence, his beady stare on you. Something was always hidden with his gaze as if he knew the very thoughts inside your head. You grew uncomfortable as your mind wandered, fidgeting with the golden rings on your fingers. The betrayal of the Red Keep was profound, which you understood from a very young age and was the whole purpose of your prolonged stay here, but it still amazed you when you met it head-on.

The only reason for the questions around your Mother's legitimacy as heir was the fact that she had a cunt instead of a cock. The ruling lords feared what change Rhaenyra would cause with her rule. It threatened the centuries of tradition they had created, a tradition that served to their advantage. If a woman ruled the Seven Kingdoms, what would that mean for them? What would it mean for all the eldest daughters tossed aside in favor of a younger son?

It would mean women would no longer be the property of their fathers and husbands. They could not barter and sell for their advantage. It would tell women they weren't the lesser sex; they were not subservient but equal, and that threatened men's power.

"My Mother will create a new order for the realm, Lord Larys," you declared flippantly, your palms becoming sticky. "She will not be the exception but the rule, and you will either bend the knee for her when the time comes or lose your life." You raised a brow as if to invite challenge, daring the Lord to say the treasonous words that were written across the lines of his face.

Larys smirked as always, sighing as he twirled his cane between his digits. "We shall see," he stated wistfully, eyes trained on the object in his hands.

You moved yourself off the table to protest but nearly fell, an abrupt burning sensation radiating within your gut, catching you unaware. Groaning, you cradled your stomach and rested on the wood for support. You felt your body begin to weaken with every minute of discomfort, a sudden onset of symptoms that reminded you of when you ate tainted food. Grunting, you glanced at Larys, the man now observing you with an expecting look in his blue eyes.

"I apologize, my Lord. I believe I may have eaten something foul today," you gritted out, sweat beginning to seep from every pore in your body. "Please, excuse me and we shall reconvene at another time."

"No, Princess. I intend to stay. As I have said, I have yet to leave my Queen's wishes unfulfilled, and you are no different."

You stared at him perplexed, vision going blurry momentarily as a stabbing pain scorched your insides, and suddenly it all made sense.

Your gaze quickly flickered over to the half-drank cup of wine, the absence of a guard, and Larys' calm demeanor. You could see it in his eyes, the same cold, icy gaze as he watched your knees buckle beneath you. Pushing yourself off the table, you made your way for the exit. You would not sit idly and allow this man to escape with whatever he had done. You would fight until your heart finally ceased to beat.

The Lord stuck out his cane before you gained enough distance, causing your knees to crash against the stone floor, pain radiating throughout your body.

You whimpered pitifully, the sound causing shame to rise as you attempted to push yourself up, but your arms gave out, collapsing again. Larys stood from his chair, his dragging gait and rhythmic tapping of wood creeping up behind you as you turned to face him, back pressed to the cold floor.

"Tell me," you rasped, the mere act of speaking creating a combination of exhaustion and nausea, "what have you done?"

He peered down at you through the end of his nose, the tip of his cane pressing into your chest as you pushed your body away. You couldn't catch your breath, a buzzing within your ears sounding as Larys began to speak.

"I saw you, the morning of Ser Lorgan's death, in the lower quarters of White Sword Tower. I followed you in." He lowered himself to the ground next to you, your limbs unable to move as a helpless terror rose within your heart. "I saw what you did, Princess. You murdered an innocent man, severing his head from his body, and when finished, sat at the table, you broke your fast."

Tears cloud your vision, leaking from your eyes with abandon as you struggled to breathe, the once thoughtless task becoming laborious. He knew all this time that you were the killer the scullery maids feared at night, yet he said nothing. He could have easily used that knowledge to blackmail you from Kings Landing. So why... why did Larys Strong choose death? What could he possibly gain from your murder?

Larys' hands made their way to your skirts, sliding the thick fabric you once held pride in up your legs. You could not feel the sensation, nor your lower limbs, horror tearing at your mind as his fingers went to your stockings next.

"Stop," you inaudibly muttered, mouth full of lead. "Make it stop."

You were praying to anything, anyone who would listen to your cries– any god, Old or New, the Seven, Valyrian, Pentosi, the Drowned, anyone who would help save you from this fate. It was not enough that Larys had incapacitated you; he had to defile you, too.

"I was confused, at first, why you would seemingly murder someone at random. It took time, but eventually, a connection was made. Ser Edder and Lorgan were the ones that punished the two women who attempted to help you flee all those years ago." Larys removed your boots and stockings, baring your unmoving limbs for his eyes to feast upon. "Lyra and Sara I believe. A whore and a maid."

He stroked his thumb over the arch of your foot, admiring the concave flesh as he brought it to his lips. You gagged, abdomen lurching as you turned your head to the side, a mixture of blood and digested food spewing from your mouth and onto the floor beside you. The vile man proceeded to cherish the soles of your feet as one would a jewel, nuzzling his face into them as he licked a stripe from your heel to toe.

"Make it stop. Please, I've had enough," you cried, the words only a murmur.

There was fear within you, but what overshadowed it was sadness. You had finally found the happiness you craved, the missing piece within your life that would ultimately make you whole, and now it would be taken away. You did not mourn for the loss of life. You wept for Aegon, Luke, Jace, Joffery, Helaena, Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, your Mother and Father for the years you would miss, for the events you would never see.

You would never see the twins grow into adults, little Aegon and Viserys speak their first words, or the babe growing within Helaena's belly. You would not see Aegon become the man he was meant to be, to watch him blossom into the loving father and husband he was always capable of being. You feared what would become of him without the one he depended on. Would all your planning and sacrifices be for naught?

Larys glanced back up at you, noticing the pile of gore beside your head, stained lips and tears, smiling as he gingerly placed your foot down, proceeding his assault onto the next.

You were relieved to some degree that you had lost all sensation in the lower half of your body, a welcomed gift from whatever poison he chose.

"You poor thing. Sweet, mourning lamb, there's nothing you can do. It's already been done," he cooed, leaning above you to brush a strand of loose ebony hair sticking to your forehead. "The poison will kill you soon, and you shall not remember a thing," he declared, kneeling as he shoved himself between your legs, undoing the laces of his breeches.

"Poison Hemlock is often mistaken for carrots by young children in the Riverlands. 'Tis a volatile thing. Sometimes, it starts with vomiting, tremors, and uncontrollable movements of the muscles, but one thing is for certain: you will die tonight, Princess, alone and at the mercy of a man who you think yourself above."

Your heart began to race impossibly faster as Larys shifted your skirts, pulling the knot of your small clothes and dragging them down your legs. He brought the sweat-soaked fabric to his nose, burying his face as he inhaled your natural scent. It sent another wave of disgust, coughing up excess saliva and leftover blood as you choked.

Suddenly, you felt as if a wave rolled through your head, an intense pressure pounding inside your skull as you lost all the breath within your lungs. Larys looked up at the noise, seeing your horror-stricken gaze as your body went rigid, your eyes involuntarily rolling back until he saw nothing but the whites of them. Your body began to convulse uncontrollably, your mind losing consciousness and control.

Larys sneered in distaste at the abrupt cut off to his fun, adjusting himself more comfortably between your legs. He had hoped there would be more time before the hemlock took full effect, but this would have to do. At least he would no longer hear your pathetic mewls of protest.

He waited patiently until the tremors subsided, leaning back on his haunches as he observed the pink bubbly froth seep from your mouth, tearing his aching cock from his trousers as he began to stroke himself to total hardness.

Larys felt the warmth of liquid on his knees before he saw it, a puddle of urine soaking through the material of his breeches as he moved your legs over to the side. He was disgusted with his now urine-soaked clothes, insulted that you would do such a thing as if you had control over it, standing with the help of his firefly cane. He peered down at your still convulsing form, intrigued by your body's lack of control despite your unconsciousness.

It was disappointing that he could not derive some pleasure from his actions. It left him woefully unfulfilled, but he was satisfied enough to have kept his promise to the Queen, to reduce someone who thought so highly of themselves to a pissing, vomiting mess. Larys left your chambers with a smile on his mousy face, as silent as the rats within the walls of the Keep.

Masterlist of Series

So what do y'all think? I warned that it would get darker here, but it's ASOIAF. What did you expect? I wanted to express the reader's fear and the sense of violation she felt during the poisoning scene, so I hope I did a good job with that. I also really wanted to not just do the type of poisoning scene where people cough up some blood and then be done with it. I'm probably on the FBI's watch list for my search history because I did so much research on the effects of Poison Hemlock and different types of seizures. XD

Also, when I was little, I gave my mom a bouquet of poison hemlock. To be fair, the white flower is pretty, and I was like 8.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and thank you so much for reading!

Tagged Peeps: @zeennnnnnn, @malfoytargaryen, @targaryencore, @justasmallbean, @omgsuperstarg, @sommornyte, @silverslive, @ynbutbetter, @legolas017, @iiamthehybrid, @dd122004dd, @ladybug0095, @millies0bsimp, @kalfild, @sheislonelyalways, @tempt-ress, @minttea07, @trikigirl271, @esposadomd, @prettywhenicry4, @daenerysqueenofhearts, @justarandomflowerchildofthenight, @pastelorangeskies, @existential-echo, @priyajoyy, @merovingianprincess, @candy12110, @w3ird11, @ruhjkie, @somemydayy, @marikkjj, @zillahvathek, @sunfyresrider, @heavenly1927, @hjgdhghoe, @im-sidney, @aurorathi, @marihoneywk, @xitsemm

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ivestas · 2 years ago

Note

könig with a confident/badass reader that knows their shit? 👀 im so hrrrng for this man i want to fluster him so bad

blackened valor

Summary: König admires you, so you expose your humanity to him.

Tags: soldier!fem!reader (call sign “hound”) x könig, reader implied to be on the older side, smoking, barely edited, mentally ill reader, this might be triggering for those struggling with suicidal thoughts so please be careful/dont read!

Word count: 1.1k

Notes: anon we are literally on the same wavelength, i was earlier thinking about a reader who has that dorky badassery of snake or raiden or literally any mgs character LMAO

Not much was known about you beyond your feats on the field.

But those feats defined your personhood within any military—the moment a recruiter knew who you were, they’d be on their knees begging for your presence among theirs.

It was like being a celebrity, except you got no perks and more targets on your back and eyes on you every second of the day, trying to break down your character and understand—understand what, only God knows.

You were fine with that, though; you get used to it after a while: the praise, the envy, it all becomes white noise over the howl of the wind.

So it was a normal occurrence when you noticed a set of eyes on you.

What was abnormal was the one doing the staring.

An Austrian giant.

It piqued your interest; a shallow reason to humor since you’ve been in this situation numerous times before, but you didn’t care.

From your seat in the empty lounge, you leaned back, regarding him carefully.

He couldn’t meet your stare.

Cute.

“You are?” You grabbed a lighter from your pockets, popping out a cheap cigarette at the same time. In a swift motion, the cigarette was alight on your lips, and now it sat between your index and middle finger.

“König, ma’am.”

“Ma’am?” You couldn’t help the chuckle that spilled out your lips. “I’m ‘Hound’ to everyone, no need for the formalities, save that for your captain.”

He nodded jerkily. You noted his scrunched shoulders, his stiff poise, and his foot moving in a rhythmic motion. The chair he sat on seemed to bend at the movement.

"Hey, c’mere.”

In an instant, he did as you said, walking to you quickly.

You pat the spot beside you. “Sit, no need to sit on that shitty chair. Pretty sure it was about to collapse.”

Nodding again, he sat beside you.

You lift your cigarette to him. “Wanna?”

König shook his head. “I don’t.”

“I’d praise you for making such a good health decision, but it’d make me a hypocrite considering you chose to be a merc.” You sighed, taking another puff of smoke. “Speaking of, what’s a timid guy like you doin’ in a merc group?”

“...”

“Touchy subject, eh?” You shook your head, laughing again. “It’s always like that with soldiers—it’s either to pay college debt or to run away from some fucked past.”

König glanced at you, finally. He held your gaze.

“What about you, then?”

“Me?” You hummed, leaning forward now with your elbows on your knees, one hand propping your head up while the other held the cigarette. Looking up at him, you smiled. “Money. Valor. Suitors. I’m a materialist at heart, I love the attention too. I’m super fucking vain.”

“That can’t be?”

The way he gasped those words made you grin. He was quickly becoming a favorite. “Then what do you think is the real reason?”

“Uhm...” His fingers tapped his knee, and his eyes strayed up, deep in thought. Then, embarrassed, his voice dropped. “...to change the world?”

Despite the clear embarrassment, he said the words with unwavering sureness, and it dawns on you that he probably thought of you as some war hero—a pursuer of all that is good for the world.

When you look at him—properly this time, not an off-handed glance—you can see it in his eyes, the shine.

You were right.

In the past, moments like this would be awkward; you never knew what to say, how to softly break the truth that you were just some woman, and the honest truth wasn’t coated in honor and your drive to be a force of good.

But now? You didn’t care. You never had.

“I wanted to die,” you said casually—and it was a casual admission, you didn’t really care, because that was the truth.

You saw his eyes widen and it nearly made you laugh.

“I was gonna, you know, kill myself when I was younger. Had planned it out and everything,” you sighed wistfully. “Then, I thought, ‘why not join the military’? Easier to break to my family that when I inevitably died, it was for a cause rather than the fact I succumbed to my own perpetual weakness.”

“It’s not—”

“’It’s not weakness’ yeah yeah,” you scoffed. “It’s easy to say that because you feel it. We all feel it—the desire to die.”

The bottom of his hood shifted again, and you expected to hear his words, but nothing came out.

“But, yeah, I guess after a while of realizing that I’m cursed with some twisted luck of brushing past the grim reaper, I decided to be a bit of a saint and run around and ‘fix’ things, just to stave the boredom away.”

You took another puff, longer this time. “You grow attached to the idea of bringing peace, I think. My advice? If you want to bring the most change, let go of your fear of death. Suddenly, everything’s not so scary anymore...” you smile. “But I’m guessing you’ve already done that, haven’t you?”

König was silent, but after a moment, he nodded.

“See? Now you’re just as much of a ‘hero’ as me.” You lifted the cigarette. “You sure you don’t want, by the way?”

“...I’ll try.” His hands were large, dwarfing the cigarette to a ridiculous degree.

With his free hand, he lifted the end of his hood, and you caught a bit of his face.

Pretty.

He sucked in and began coughing right after, lowering the cigarette for a moment. Clumsy puffs of smoke shot out his lips, and after a few seconds, he tried again.

Still awkward, but a bit better.

“Ah, you’re getting there König, now you’re just as much of a hero as me!” You reached for the cigarette and took a puff before handing it back.

He paused before putting it back between his lips, but you notice a flush of pink dusting his pale skin. Even with just the bottom of his face showing, you could see he was... blushing?

That made you bark out a laugh.

He’s so fucking shy.

He seemed to have caught on quickly because he quickly moved the cigarette back to you, refusing to meet your eyes, tugging the hood back over his face.

“Come on soldier, don’t be shy! We’re all friends here, right?” You leaned back and pat his shoulder. “Unless..?”

He froze under your hand.

You laughed again, letting your hand rest there. He didn’t push it away, remaining stiff under your palm, head turned away and fingers fiddling with gloves wrapped around his hands.

AO3

Masterlist

Requests are open

#konig x reader #mw2 x reader #modern warfare 2 x reader #modern warfare x reader #cod x reader #könig x reader #tw sucidal ideation #tw suicide #dont smoke kids it isnt cool #even if a war hero pressures u too!

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riahlynn101 · 1 year ago

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Whumptober - Day Twenty-One: "Polaroid."

TW: William being himself, stalking, heavily implied slut-shaming, mentions of pregnancy, and hints of emotional and financial abuse.

Set in the FNAF movie universe.

Edited: 10/23/2023 - finished and edited it (as much as I could).

William is busy (he always is, but it’s nearly the holiday season. And if he wants Fredbear’s to get ahead of the competition, Henry and him need to start planning ahead for the influx of customers). He rushes around the restaurant, trying to dodge screaming children.

Why he ever got into children’s entertainment, he’ll never know.

He’s almost to his office, when someone taps him on the shoulder.

“William?”

He turns around to face-

“Laura…?” He can’t keep the surprise out of his voice. Laura was an ex-fling of his. They broke things off a few months back abruptly. He thought it was because she wanted to move out of state, but-he looks her up and down, noting her swollen stomach and tired eyes-that apparently wasn’t the case. Without another word, William opens the door to his office wider, inviting her in.

She moves past him, not meeting his eyes.

He sits down at his desk across from Laura. “You’ve been busy,” he jokes.

Laura glares at him, a hand on her stomach. “No, thanks to you.” She takes a deep breath, settling down. “I…didn’t come here to fight.”

“Well, that’s a shame.”

Another glare.

William smirks, pretending to read over some paperwork he finished earlier that day. “I don’t have all day you know?”

Laura sighs. “There’s no easy way for me to say this, but I’m pregnant.”

“I would have never guessed,” he snarks.

Laura rubs her stomach, one hand remains there at all times, as if protecting the growing life inside. “And you’re the-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” he says, cutting her off. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I want no part in it.”

Laura stares at him, narrowing her eyes. “What I’m playing at?” She repeats under her breath. “What I’m playing at!? And what do you, William, think I’m doing here then?”

“Waste my time? Try to scam me? Take my money and hard earned assets?”

“I don’t want your money,” she spits.

“Then, what do you want?” William asks, annoyed. He really hopes one of his employees, or worse, Henry, doesn't come into his office. The last thing he wants to explain is why he’s having a heated conversation with a pregnant woman.

Laura sniffles, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands.

Great, now she’s crying. She does that a lot.

“I,” she sniffs, clearing her throat, “just wanted our child to know his father. I know what it’s like growing up in a broken home, and I wanted to prevent that.”

It’s William’s turn to sigh. “Hypothetically, say I believe you, how certain are you that it’s mine? I mean, you got around a lot.”

Laura shakes her head, looking at him with watery eyes. “I know I used to party a lot, but you didn't like when I did that. So, I changed. I haven’t been with anyone else besides you in over a year.”

He tsks, tilting his head to the side. “And I wish I could believe that, but unfortunately, I can’t.”

“Please,” she begs, putting her hands together, “I don’t have anywhere else to go and-”

“And there it is. The truth.” He laughs, going back to reading over the finished paperwork, using the sounds of Laura quietly sobbing as white noise.

“Two things can be true. This baby is your child. Even if you don’t care about me, you should care about your son.”

“Sorry,” William tells her. “I have to get back to work, but I’ll be sure to send a gift card along to the women’s shelter.”

He watches her leave, defeated.

“That was odd,” he says to himself, flipping through a file to find one blueprint or another.

Despite how cruelly he treated her, William hopes the baby and her stay safe. It’s a scary world out there, and a real monster might take advantage of them.

-x-x-x-

William forgets the encounter. Business is booming and sales are up. Laura and her unborn child fade from his memory.

But then, Henry and his wife decide to have a baby. A little girl, they lovingly named “Charlotte.”

Business slows down, and William is left to his thoughts. He thinks about his ‘supposed’ child. They would be about four or five now. He wonders what they look like.

Do they look like Laura? Him?

He mentally berates himself. None of it matters, because William will never see Laura again. He hasn’t seen her since their last conversation, so it’s safe to say that she probably left town. And it’s unlikely that the kid is actually his. It can’t be.

The next day, because he’s so lucky, William runs into Laura while grocery shopping. He almost runs his cart into hers, but stops just in time. “Laura?” He asks. “Is that you?” He takes in her appearance. She looks put-together, something that she always seemed to struggle with. His eyes linger on the gold band around her left ring finger, and stop on the little boy sitting in the front of the cart.

Laura looks at him like a deer in headlights. Her mouth opens and closes. Before she finally composes herself. She stands a little straighter. “In the flesh,” she jokes.

William keeps looking at the boy. “Is this your-”

Laura cuts him off. “My son. Yep.”

“So, is he my-”

Again, she interrupts him. “My husband’s son?”

“So, you lied to me?” William can feel his blood starting to boil. The thought of abandoning his potential child has taken up more mental space than he likes to admit. Years of trying not to think about it, and she lied?

“No,” Laura mutters. She starts to walk away, but William puts a hand on her cart.

“Then, what happened?”

Laura glares at him. “I’m not talking about this with you.”

William studies the little boy, who gives him a big, toothy grin; his two front teeth are missing. All freckles and dark curls that rest messily against his forehead and big brown eyes.

He sees nothing of himself in the boy, and yet…

“He’s mine.”

It isn’t a question, but Laura answers anyway. “I’m not talking about this in front of Mike.”

“Michael,” William says, tasting the name. “I like it.”

Laura goes to move forward, but he maintains a tight grip on the cart. “Don’t leave, I just want to talk.”

She looks at him, and then down at their son. “I-”

“Laura,” a man says, a can in each hand. “They had a sale on veggies, and I know you’ve been saying we need to start feeding Mike more greens.” He tosses the items in the cart, before turning to greet William.

“Hi, you and Laura know each other?” There’s no accusations hidden in the question, but William feels somewhat offended.

“Of course we do. Me and her go way back.”

The man, who William suspects is her husband (judging by the matching gold band on his finger), raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah, way back.” It might be childish, but he relishes the slight twitch of the man’s eye. The knowledge that he’s getting to him, albeit barely.

Laura’s husband laughs, but it sounds forced. “Hey, honey, how about you go checkout? I’m sure Mikey doesn’t want to hear boring adult talk.”

She nods, hurrying away before William can intercept her again.

Once the cart is no longer in view, the man turns to him again. He pokes a finger into William’s chest, a severe look on his otherwise handsome face. “I know who you are, and I’m warning you, stay away from my family.”

There’s so many things William wants to say, but it’s clear that anything he says will fall on deaf ears. “Okay,” he answers, acting meek.

The man stares at him for a few seconds longer. “Good,” he mutters, leaving to (presumably) go find Laura.

William goes home that night, still thinking about his son. His real, actual son. Laura hadn’t been lying, or trying to pass off someone else’s child as his. They exist.

Instead of giving him closure, the event sparks something in William. He might not be able to talk to or interact with his son, but he can keep close tabs on him.

He buys a polaroid camera, and memorizes his son’s routine. Which is hard, because most of the time he’s with one adult or another. But sometimes William can catch him alone, at the park, or when he’s waiting for his parents to pick him up after school.

He never talks to Michael, not wanting the boy to tattle to his mom or “dad.”

William sticks to blending in with the surrounding crowds, or shadows. In the case of the park, he pretends to act uninterested, reading a newspaper. But in those perfect little moments where no one’s paying him any mind and his son’s doing something cute, like yawning or giggling, he’ll snap a picture or two.

A perfect little memento for his eyes only.

But then, Laura has another child - a little boy. Which messes up William’s schedule, because now Michael spends a lot of time at home with his new sibling. And as much as he wants to spend time with his son, even he’s not stupid enough to commit breaking and entering.

William sits on the park bench, newspaper in hand and polaroid camera at his side. It might take a couple weeks, but he’s sure his son will come back.

#whumptober2023 #no. 21 #switching prompts #polariod #not finished #tw abandonment #fnaf william afton #mike schmidt #fnaf michael afton

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projectbluearcadia · 6 months ago

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Y'all, just curious, how good in your opinion (be honest) am I with being generic in x readers? I do try to be fairly ambiguous about the reader's appearance, but I'm sure I'm biased somewhere.

Also, side note/rant to the person who wrote this post and similar thinkers (**this has been edited several times as I thought about the post to try to make my points clear)

ON GENERIC READER APPEARANCE

Generic characters are difficult to write. You're not allowed to use phrases like "the brunette" or "the green-eyed woman/man." You're not allowed to have the character/narration make any reference to your appearance unless it's "You're pretty. I can't explain why though." I'm not saying it's wrong to want a character that can fit in your mind, but remember that we're limited.

Fanfic writers are deeply self-indulgent, particularly at the beginning. I was the same way. Most of my x readers were based on a cis-female, heterosexual, short-ish white woman, because that's where I see the world from. I do not have your cultural background, your build, or your sexuality. I only started to change that habit when a commenter politely remarked something along the lines of "I don't blush, girl I'm black :/"

I will still give readers scars, strange physical features, specific hair colors, specific heights, et cetera. because it might suit the story.

Marking an x OC as x Reader is annoying. I get it. I was annoyed too when I only read fanfic and didn't write it.

But I also can't deny I've been tempted on numerous occasions to do exactly that sheerly out of frustration. Try and understand; putting the OC tag your work is like pinning a big sign on it that says "I'm not valuable; I was written by an inexperienced and unskilled writer."

When in reality, I've read plenty of OCs that were incredibly relatable, funny, or were just good, solid characters. Just tell them not to do it. It's false advertising for you, but it could be scream for validation from them. They might write something you really like in the future as they learn more, and I think it's a shame that you won't read it.

ON READER PERSONALITY

I will not give much leeway for anyone on this; just going to put that out there.

There are a lot of characters that have gotten on my nerves in romance. Believe me, I've read almost as much as I've written.

Not a big fan of toxic assholes either. I don't generally market those as x Readers (with a few exceptions in the past.)

But think about two things for me.

A) A generic personality will get you a robot.

B) Writers do not have access to every personality trait in the box. In most cases, they take what they have from themselves and put it into their characters. Think about that for a second.

Most of my characters resemble me in some respect, even the characters I'm crossing you with. Some of them are extremely lonely. Some of them are too empathetic. Some of them joke around a lot. Some of them are shy and easily flustered.

My point being, that it can be very easy to feel like someone just punched you in the face thinking that you pulled the fiction out of your ass or ChatGPT.

As far as the "oh, I love them so much, I need them in my life even if they're horrible", I am a person who was wildly in love with someone to the point that if he asked me to jump off a cliff, I probably would have done it.

It is not a myth, and it is not healthy, and that is why I will put it in stories. The point is to get you to act on your own situation. I do not write stories specifically catered to your personal pleasure. I tell a story that belongs to a part of my life hoping that you like it and that you take something away from it.

The smut I write is a different story; I do cater to your personal pleasure in that case. It's smut. I'll sprinkle in a lesson about consent or safe-words in there but that's usually it.

The point of this whole personality rant is to explain that not everyone is ready with a snappy comeback or a throat chop. Fanfic writers are people just like you. In general, they're writing what they think is cool hoping you think it's cool too. They're not paid. They usually aren't in communication with you. And unless the author is poor at following story requests, you haven't made one of that author. You can't expect them to think like you do.

And if you're not satisfied with that explanation, then you can always do what every dissatisfied fan does:

Pick up your pen and become god. Add to the pool of fanfic. Far be it from me to complain about new ideas and new perspectives.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk today; I will now proceed to slink back into my chair in Lucifer's office hoping not to die of embarrassment for writing this out.

Reposting a comment I made on a post and adding to it

x Reader fics need to handle writing “reader” better sometimes

As a 6ft afab person who’s built like a man and has never been super feminine and has a more unique haircut that’s shorter I hate to read about “readers” petite, small, pale body and her “long flowy straight hair”, etc.

Reader is meant to be ambiguous!! And if it’s important to the plot please mention it at the beginning!!! If it’s not important to the plot why is it being included???

Some people who are reading may be tall, fat, skinny, short, or even somewhere in between. The readers could have a hijab, 4c hair, locks, braids, long hair, short hair, wavy, no hair and even more.

Stop making all readers so sweet and innocent, I want a reader who’s petty and sassy sometimes. I’ve noticed also that so many readers are either too baby to do anything or over powered.

Personally I also hate reading about obviously toxic men and relationships that the reader goes back to because they are “so in love”, like no please let me deck that sucker and leave them in the dust and be happier.

Also, if you label your post with the tag “___ x reader” or titled with “___ x reader” and then make descriptions and then ADD A NAME!!! It’s not an x reader fic and I heavily want to block you.

#not me getting defensive #x reader #let me know how I am #lucifer x reader #writer ego triggered

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januaryembrs · 2 years ago

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DEEP ARE THE SCARS | Din Djarin x Mandalorian!reader

Request: Hello! Congratulations on 1k my friend! You deserve it <3 I am wondering if you are comfortable with writing a din djarin x insecure/depressed reader. Thank you!!

description: Din and you have a conversation after one of his past lovers shows up, beauty and all.

Word count: 1.5k

trigger warnings: insecure feelings, scarring on face, established relationship, kissing, parental death mentioned, crime ridden planet mentioned?

main masterlist

Author’s note: it comes as no surprise to anyone this is another part of the KISS THE SCARS universe since I am now apparently very attached to these two and their love but this can be read separately if you like. READ KISS THE SCARS AND TOUCH THE SCARS here!

The world had always been cruel; you had learnt that at a young age. Your planet back was riddled with crime, and when it wasn’t, it was riddled with Empire sympathisers creating just as much chaos and tension between the people, resulting in your parents’ death and your Mando caburs [protector/guardian] to take you to their guild on Nevarro as their own.

Where you met him.

Din Djarin. The man who you had laid your life on the line for hundreds of times, who had shown you the furthest reaches of the galaxy that you never thought you would see in this lifetime or the next. Who understood you like no one else did, like no one ever had. Din, the one you knew you were going to marry when the time was right, though he had already proposed months before and neither of you had the money spare to settle down let alone afford a ceremony.

Who had seen you for exactly who you are, perhaps the first to ever do so with such love and unbridled adoration in his golden brown eyes.

It didn’t bother you so much; him seeing your face, your scars. It was ugly; you had always been aware of it, but since the day he had seen you without your helmet on, he had made you feel nothing but beautiful even with the unsightly tissue marring your face.

That is until you ran into her.

You had been collecting credits from a bounty at a nearby tavern, the buyer particularly pleased with your reputation and efficiency. Din was standing barely a few feet behind you waiting for you to finish with the man, when your ears pricked at a feminine voice.

“Mando!” You immediately turned around, seeing as people used the name for both of you. A tall, incredibly toned Togruta sauntered up to your fiance. The buyer seemed to fade into white noise, mumbling something about needing your service some time in the future, as you watched her throw her arms around Din’s neck. He straightened up awkwardly, but gently returned the hug with a large arm around her waist.

“Kuri,” He choked out, as if someone had punched him in his throat.

Do not act out, You barked at yourself, but your heart willed you to move towards the two like a panic alarm.

“It’s been years since I saw you! The moon solstice on Kashyyyk, wasn’t it?” The lady, her skin a blossom pink colour reached out with a small laugh and held his wrist dearly, “Oh, I suppose it was the morning after, wasn’t it?”

Do NOT act out.

But you were there. Stood behind her with your hands lingering on your dagger sheathed at your side, freshly sharpened this morning and ready to cut down any foe that challenged you. Especially the ones that tried to take what was yours.

Din’s helmet flicked over Kuri’s shoulder, and you could practically see his face begging you to not behave rashly over this. He hadn’t reciprocated one flirtatious advance in the few seconds she had arrived, so he held no blame. Even so, you supposed he didn’t want to deal with the consequences of uncontrolled jealousy.

The two of them went quiet for a second, and this Kuri woman seemed to notice his eyes were no longer on her. She turned to face his gaze and instead was confronted with you. A female Mandalorian decked out in pristine armour from many very successful bounties, guns and large blades at your hips. She didn’t need to see your face to know you did not look pleased.

And yet all you saw was perhaps the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever met. Her lekku were long and draped over her perk breasts, covered in white stripes and tiny, brown feathers. Her eyes were siren-like, mouth full and a naturally dark pink as if to attract your attention there first. Her red eyes flicked up and down your figure, faintly attempting to hide the fear that was clear as day in her face.

“Kuri, this is my riduur, Y/N,” Din said as you advanced on the woman slowly. She gulped dryly, stepping back though her face tried to seem poised.

“Is there a problem here?” You asked coldly, taking another step towards her before Din put his arm on your shoulder to halt you.

“No, j-just catching up with an old friend is all,” Kuri choked out, her eyes flicking to the door as if begging the Maker to send someone to save her.

“Charming,” You bit out, your voice lowering as you stared daggers at the woman who looked beautiful even when she was cowering in fear, “Though I suggest you leave now. You’d hate to find out what’ll happen if I catch up to you,”

And with that the woman fled the tavern without a single utterance of goodbye to her ‘old friend’. But you didn’t feel accomplished. In fact, you had never felt so low.

—

It was three days before he brought it up. You seemed sluggish, quiet at times when he was waiting for you to chime in with your own thoughts, granting him nothing but hums of agreement when prompted with a question. He knew you weren’t sleeping either. He heard the way you tossed around your bunk, even the blanket grating on your nerves for one reason or the next. You’d wake up the following morning, eyes heavy and face dull of life.

“Are you hungry?” Din tried to offer, as he had been trying for the past three days to get you to respond at all, but you simply shook your head.

“No thankyou,” Your voice was empty, your gaze zoned out as if you were miles away from him despite standing in front of him. And you were. He had never seen you so dead. It shook his resolve, and he couldn’t help himself from stroking a hair away from your face as an excuse to cup your cheek in his large, warm hand.

“What are you thinking about?” He whispered, the voice coming out deep and rugged. But the tenderness was still there. It was always there when Din spoke to you.

“Nothing,” You murmured, though his hand caressing your cheek seemed to thaw away the cold you felt inside. Sighing, you nuzzled into his palm and shut your eyes gently, liking the way he pet you too much for your own good.

“Tell me, pretty girl,” Din whispered, bringing his thumb up to trace over where your scar lay at your lip like he always did when the two of you were this close. Yet you flinched as if his fingertips scolded you, as though him touching that part was as sensitive as the day it came to grace your face.

It had been years, but the pain of it cut just as deep.

“Do you ever wish things were different?” You asked, watching him frown and shrink back. Obviously, he had interpreted your question in the worst possible way, as you having second thoughts on this marriage that had not yet come. “That I was different?” You clarified.

He stared at you aghast. “No, never,” Din replied with such earnestness that it hurt your chest to hear him so disappointed, “What ever have I done to make you feel like that?”

“No, it's not you, it's just-” You huffed, getting frustrated with the words that seemed too difficult to produce, “Kuri is pretty,”

“Pretty terrified of you, you mean,” Din tried to joke but it fell flat when you glared at him. He chuckled at your mean face, bringing you in close and kissing you on the nose, “And what does that matter?”

“You were together weren’t you?” Your voice was hostile, something you couldn’t help. The Mandalorians never really taught you emotional regulation growing up, it was all fighting as a means to end a dispute.

He sighed, looking down at you with such love despite the fact you knew you were being selfish, “Not the way me and you are, no.”

“So? It doesn’t matter, it still proves you could be with any and every woman much prettier than me. Someone not tainted by a Tusken hound, someone with a perfect face, someone-”

“My sweet wife,” Din cut you off, his hand slipping into your hair to cradle the back of your head. His lips pressed to your brow this time, “I do not want anyone else,” You opened your mouth to interrupt him again, but he shut you up with a kiss there too, “You are strong, and beautiful, and powerful. I loved you just as you are even before you took off that helmet, and I’d love you even if the stars burnt out and the world went dark.” He kissed you once more on your lips, “You are the only one I see,”

You pouted, knowing he was being too kind to a scornful woman like you but melted into his embrace nonetheless. He petted your head kindly, kissing your hairline as you hugged him back, “Thankyou,” You said into his chest though he deciphered what you meant.

“I enjoy seeing you jealous. You had that poor woman running like a scared sand rabbit,” You pinched his ribs in retaliation though you felt him shaking with laughter. “Don’t worry, meshla. I’d show any man just the same manners if they tried to take away my sweet almost-wife,”

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effielumiere · 2 years ago

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All I Want - Kim Namjoon x Reader

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader, OC x Reader

Genre: Romance? Idol AU, Drama, Angst?, Best Friends to (???)

Warning(s): Cursing/Language. Angsty angst? Get your tissues... i think... or not. Two shoes being thrown at Joonie .UNEDITED!

Word count: 12k (I'm so sorry, I got too carried awaaayyy~)

Summary: Kim Namjoon has been in love with his high school best friend ever since he first laid eyes on her. Nearly fifteen years later, he's known all around the globe as BTS's leader RM, but none of that matters to him personally, because all he ever wanted aside to live his dreams was to be with Y/n. However, it seems it's too late. She's about to get married in the following day and he's too afraid to watch her be forever in the arms of someone else that isn't him and for the first time since he's debuted, he wants to try and confess again, even though he knows that this time it's going to be different. He knows you're not going to stay. No amount of pleading and begging will make him yours. So, this time he's going to do that right thing and confess, not to make Y/n changer her mind, but to say goodbye. It's right thing to do anyway... Nothing could possibly go wrong .... right?

Author's Note: I *legit* forgot that this song existed until i read This Chapter of House of the Omegaverse by @sopejinsunflower and remembered it. Without giving much away, the scene goes with Namjoon and the reader looking at each other while the reader was singing it, and I remember how I felt like someone abruptly pulled my heartstrings leaving in a tiny angst mood. And that was moooonths ago btw lol. That story was an inspiration for this and this baby has been sitting on my drafts since House of the Omegaverse ended (please go check out @sopejinsunflower 's work 🥺) I'm a bit behind schedule but I'm pretty sure it's still September 30 in California ... Hopefully lmao. This was originally for Namjoon's birthday, but I got busy so here I am lol. Please leave your feed back in the comments or send me an ask teehee don't be shy😄 And btw, this is completely unedited most parts were written while I was half asleep and tired on the shuttle headed home lol. ENJOOOOYYY!

Armand (OC [Korean Englishmen/JOLLY]) is none other than this young man right here.

< main masterlist >

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

Namjoon closed his eyes as the cool wind blew past his face, relished the last night he was going to spend with his long time best friend who was getting married when the morning comes. 6 hours. That's all he needed and that was all the time he got. The sun was already starting to set when he opened his eyes to gaze at the sight before him.

Her. She was wearing a pastel blue dress with small white polkadots, light make-up on her face that accentuated her eyes and enhanced her best features. Her eyes he thought Her eyes are the most beautiful set of eyes he's ever seen. She was looking around the floor watching happily as waiters walked past our table with food on the trays they were balancing elegantly with one hand.

"Oh, Joon," she smiles as she brings the wine glass to her lips to take a sip "I'm so excited for tomorrow, everything went as planned and tomorrow, I'm finally going to be a married woman and have my dream wedding"

"I'm happy for you," he gave her a smile "Truly?" she asks. Namjoon cocks his head to the side, a habit he's that shows his disappointment and sometimes, his disapproval of a certain situation.

"What is it?" she asks, her smile slowly fading, concerned for her best friend "Is everything alright?" Instead of answering, he picks up his glass of whiskey and downs it in one go, slightly wincing at the burn as he contemplates on whether or not he should spill his emotions and tell her how he truly feels, or hold back, let her be happy and never see her again as long as he lives.

"Namjoon" she calls him, making him slowly look up at her "I'm excited about tomorrow, but I'm also nervous"

"Don't be," he tells her in a low voice as he controls himself from talking more than he should.

"Joonie, remember when we went to the beach?" Y/n asks "You know, the place where we met up because I needed your help with my math homework" he simply nods at her not trusting his voice. He's drank enough whiskey for tonight to last a lifetime, he thinks. He motions for the bill at their waiter who was patient waiting for them to leave as they were the last customer of the restaurant for the night.

Namjoon planned everything for this particular evening, he planned of making sure that she had a relaxed night where she wasn't going to worry about anything, including the wedding but what he didn't plan was to entertain the nagging thought he had to tell her how he's really felt for the past 15 years of his life, but at the same time he was scared. Scared to lose her, he decided to shut his mouth and let her, watch her meet someone else, fall for someone else... love someone else.

The night of the engagement, Namjoon watched as videos and pictures of Y/n and her now soon to be husband to be all smiles and happiness on the timeline of his social media accounts, the comments filled with happy wishes and he felt... numb... and angry. No. Not angry. Furious. Furious at himself for being a coward and not trying hard enough, and not expressing what he really felt about her all these years.

~~~~~^^~~~~~~~~^^^^

He waited, until 5 years ago when he thought he'd visit her college campus to pick her up and take her out on a date, hoping she wouldn't say no. But he was too late, so there she was, walking out of the college building, laughing and smiling as she ran into the arms of a man he didn't know, and surprised him the most, they two kissed. And it definitely didn't look friendly. Namjoon unknowingly clenched his jaw and fists at the sight, crushing the poor stems of the bouquet of peonies and sunflowers that he brought for Y/n especially for this occasion.

"Are you okay, Mon-ah?" Jin asks from the driver's seat, looking at the rare view mirror.

"I don't think so, hyung," Yoongi answers for him from the passengers side, nodding his head at the direction Y/n was still smiling and laughing, then they're holding hands as they walked away from the building.

Jin didn't need words to start driving back to their dorm, and when they arrived the maknaes were outside waiting for them with an expectant gaze in their eyes. Parking the car, Namjoon quickly got out, slamming the car door with a bit too much force. Roughly throwing the bouquet on the nearby bin, he walks like a man on a mission to the end of the street.

"Let's go after him," Hobi says and they all nod as the maknaes look at their hyungs in confusion.

"What happened?" Taehyung asks

"Did she turn hyung down?" Jimin questions

"Is Rap Mon-hyung okay?" Jungkook asks in a small voice, his lips curling inward as he bites them nervously.

Jin sighs as he leads the younger boys to walk in the direction where Namjoon was headed. Wrapping an arm around Jungkook's shoulder he looks at them and simply says" Don't say anything alright? It didn't end the way we thought it would," he says in a quiet voice" And I think it would be best not to ask him anything related to Y/n for now. "

"What happened then?" Jimin asks him, still walking. Hobi and Yoongi were already ahead, trying to catch up with Namjoon's fast paced, angry stomps on the pavement. As Jin told the stories to the maknaes and watched the sadness and pity in their eyes grow, Namjoon was already at the park and was being to climb the big tree.

"Uhh... Namjoon-ah, please be careful," Hobi says nervously as he looks at Yoongi who also had no idea how to stop the brokenhearted boy from climbing the tree.

"Namjoon-ah, careful!" Yoongi yells "Please! I have no fucking idea how I'm going to explain to your parents why you're doing what you're doing right now if you get hurt climbing a damn tree because of a broken heart!"

"Oh shit," Jin yells as he heards the last bit of Yoongi's sentence "Namjoon-ah, get back down here!" he yells his neck and ear turning red from the fear and the anger he was feeling for the most clumsy person he's ever known his entire life climbing said tree.

"What is hyung doing?" Jungkook asks

"Don't you dare ever follow his footsteps kid, you could, but don't do reckless shit he does," Yoongi warns the youngest.

"I'm calling Bang PD-nim and Sejin-nim" Jin announces as he pulls out his phone to call their producer, but his actions were stopped when the loudest sound he's heard in his life made him drop his phone on the sand, startled.

"YAAAAAAHH!!! FUCKING BASTARD!!!" Namjoon yelled from the highest point of the tree that he was able to cry. He was breathing heavily, on the verge of crying "YOU JUST HAD TO TAKE YOUR FUCKING SWEET TIME, HUH?!" He yelled at the open air at himself "THERE YOU GOD DAMN GO, YOU IDIOT! YOU FUCKING LOST YOUR CHANCE TO DATE THE GIRL YOU WANTED FOR SO DAMN LONG"

Without giving it much thought, Jungkook started climbing the other side of the tree making sure his brothers didn't see him. Namjoon stared at the maknae once he was leaning on the branch in front of him.

"What are you doing here, Jungkook-ah?" Namjoon asks him softly after he was done yelling about, looking away from him wiping a tear discreetly but Jungkook saw it "I felt bad for you, hyung, so I followed you up here instead even though Yoongi hyung told me not to." he shrugged.

Bang PD-nim and Sejin-nim arrived "Mon-ah, get down from there," Sejin-nim said "You're gonna get hurt!"

"What's the maknae doing there with him?" Bang PD-nim ask Hobi and Yoongi who suddenly look around them only to find the maknae missing.

"You little brat!" Yoongi yelled "I told you not to climb the tree,"

"Don't worry, hyung," Jungkook called back, "I'd do the same for all of you," then turned towards Namjoon "What happened with Y/n, hyung? I thought you'd be happier when you returned."

Namjoon took another deep breath "She uh..." he cleared his throat before continuing, he felt like he was running out of air to breathe because of what he had witnessed earlier "She was with another guy, they're probably dating. She never told me that she was seeing someone else."

Jungkook bit on his lip as he listened to his hyung explain what happened when he was about to leave the car, go up to her and ask her out on a date but was rudely interrupted by a man who seemed to have already taken his place. After a few more minutes talking to Jungkook, thanks to his distraction, Bang PD-nim and Sejin-nim were up to date on what was going on and decided to make him face the music so to speak. Y/n arrived at the park, she was on a date with Armand, the exchange student who she's been seeing for months in secret, when she got a call from the boys' manager and cut the date short when they said that Namjoon was on a tree. It was enough to send her in a panicked frenzy to leave the date abruptly to somewhat save her best friend.

"Namjoon-ah," she called from where the other men were standing. Namjoon's dragon shaped eyes widened and his lips slightly pursed as his gaze shifted from Jungkook slowly to looking below him where Y/n stood, a panic-stricken look on her face and sadness in her eyes.

"Namjoon-ah, please get down here before you hurt yourself," she half begged half demanded

"Don't worry about me, I'm okay," Namjoon tries to reassure her

"Joonie-ya," she calls out to him, so far she's the only one who calls him that and he's allowed it because he has feels for her "I don't know what exactly happened, but you didn't have to climb a tree because you're mad that the girl you like didn't go out with you," behind her, Namjoon saw Yoongi was mouthing that she doesn't know it's her and Jin was giving him a thumbs up that all was well.

"Just get down here and let's talk about it if you wanna," she offers "if not, well... just write a song about it and rip it off like a band aid. You'll move on, Joonie, you'll love someone else, and I promise they'll love you back"

"That's not what I want, Y/n-ssi" he tells her "I don't want anyone else, all I want in this world is y-"

"Ya, Namjoon-ah" Hobi yells out to him, enough to cut his sentence before he said something he wasn't ready to say yet and Hobi's voice was loud enough for Y/n not to hear the end of what Namjoon said "Get down here before we call the firefighters to get you back down here!"

"Joonie-ya," Y/n called out to him one last time "We don't always get what we want, some of us just happen to be lucky. I just left my date alone because they said you're up, stuck on a tree like a stubborn cat."

"Y-you did that? W-why?" Namjoon stuttered "Because you're important to me Namjoon-ah!" she yells back at him, "And right now, I'm pissed because I didn't get to eat! Now get down here so we could go back to your dorm so I can cook Jjajjangmyeon for all of us, or you could just stay there are starve. You look like a dumb dragon perched on a small tree, you punk. I can't believe I'm yelling at an Idol who's stuck on a damn tree like a cat," she stomps her foot on the ground. The men around them watching the interaction found it funny that Hobi was taking a video for future purposes, mainly friendly blackmail. What made Hobi laugh was the way Y/n walked out of the park and headed for the grocery, maknae's (minus Jungkook) following her. When they were out of earshot Bang PD-nim chuckled at the sight before turning to Jin "Guess you only needed her help, get the receipt from the grocery and let me know her bank account to give her a refund. Get your groceries too," he says pulling out a couple of bills and handing it to him "Just in case." then he turned to the man on the tree "Namjoon-ah, get down there and take your girl's advice," he calls out to him grinning and he walks back to his car with Sejin-nim. That evening, Y/n cooked dinner with the help of Jin, Yoongi and Hobi. Despite the cramped space, they were able to walk back and forth in circles and prepare dinner. Namjoon was sitting in front of Y/n, he watched her with sad eyes as he ate. He didn't know whether he was supposed to break everything in his path or just cry, and it wasn't until she left the dorm that Namjoon went back to the nearest convenience store with notebook and ballpen on hand. After two cups on coffee, he wrote about how he felt into two songs, one of them later down the line gave them their first award and a gave them a lot of recognition, the other one... was something that he wanted tell her. But told himself that when they record the song he wanted it to sound almost like haunting accusation.

"I need you and run." he says to himself, cocking his head to the side sighing, he mutters "Please get the message," only to be disappointed that she didn't know it was about her.

~~~~~^^~~~~~~~~^^^^

"Hey, earth to Namjoon," you called out to him smiling "you still there?"

"Yeah, sorry," Namjoon shook the memory from his head a d chuckled "Sorry, I had a mini flashback that's all,"

"Ooh," she leans forward, elbows on the desk and a hand on her cheek "What's it about?"

"Remember when I went up a tree? After this girl didn't go out with me."

She thought about it for a second before she laughs "Is that the one where I cooked Jjajjangmyeon for us and you looked like you were gonna cry on your food?"

"Wait," his eyes widened slightly "You saw that?"

"It's hard not to see it, Joonie," she smiles sympathetically "Your aura screamed that you were heartbroken that's why I cooked, because if I remember it right, it's your comfort food in some sort of way"

Namjoon nods, he felt the exact same thing when your engagement was announced, and he went up the same tree again. To his surprise, the other members followed him and the maknae did exactly what he did that day, he went up the tree. But he didn't scream out his frustrations and their stay didn't last long because this time he came down without your help, and this time he cried in front of his brothers. Telling them that he's lost his chance with you.

"I still am," he admits "Not being loved in return by someone who you've loved for all those years is heart breaking." She nodded. Namjoon asks for the bill and as they get into Namjoon's car, he asks the driver to drop off Y/n first.

They were in front of the villa she was renting with her family and friends, including him and the other members, when Namjoon decided to end his pain. Ripping off a band aid, like she said.

"There's something I have to say, but there are two promises I need to know you'll keep as I tell you this story. The first promise is that you let me say everything on one go and ask me questions later,"

"Alright..." she trailed off hesitant "Go ahead?"

Taking a deep breath, Namjoon had a moment where he thought about letting it go and never letting her know, but there was also that selfish part of him that was begging to be let out. And he liked listening to that part of him.

"I was gonna ask this girl out years ago," he stared at her "I was ready to go out with her after knowing her for years. I've been... In love with her for the past fifteen years; that's from the moment I met her until today." he stopped gaging her reaction and so far so good, she was intently listening, so he continued.

"I met her in English classes." he bites his lip, knowing she's going to finally know how he's felt after all these years, and he didn't know what else to do other than let his mouth run, so he looked away from her. Watching the light of the room that she's staying in, the room that was joined with his, only to be divided by a large bathroom.

"She was wearing her uniform, with a lavander and gray hoodie on top, which made it easier for me to find her. You see I had a crush on her, she's really smart and well spoken, gentle and kind, full of light and laughter, and most of all she had kindness I could never compare to anybody else. When I finally walked up to her, I pretended not to know what our homework was to have an excuse to have her look at me past the glasses and the awful haircut, and you did, " he smiles at the memory before quickly glancing at her. She was slightly wide eyed with his last statement making him look at his hands, suddenly they were very interested to look at.

"I never asked you back then because... do you even remember how I looked like?! I had a bowl cut, it wasn't really hot or cool. So, I told myself, once we get into college I'll ask you out. But it took a while before college was something that I really had to do. I had to work first, we debuted and had to work even harder, I did everything I could to keep you. But that day, I had a bouquet of your favorites, peonies and sunflowers. I was in Jin-hyung's car with him, Yoongi and Hoseok, we showed up at the university. We came home from tour that day and I was really excited to see you, but instead I met you in a different circumstance. You kissed Armand right before I could even get out of the car, and I felt my heart shatter. Jin-hyung drove back to the dorm and we all walked to the park where you saw all of us. I ate dinner with a broken heart because I took too long to ask you out. I wrote songs about you. I need you and run were written that evening. Serendipity, Trivia: Love, Home, The truth untold, they're all about you and for you.

"I've been in love with you for these past fifteen years and I'm such a coward that I never told you in person and now you're going to get married to somebody else" he bit his lip as tears pooled in his eyes "It's so cliché for someone to fall in love with their best friend but what can I do, I'm just a human being who happens to be in love with you and now I'm losing you,

"I lost you to him," he looks out the window, he refuses to look at her not knowing that she too was crying at the secret that he's kept for so long. She's never seen him harshly wipe his tears away in frustration before except for time when the group was deciding on breaking up which never happened.

"I don't expect you to feel the same way or to back out of the wedding, but I wanted to let you know."

"Why now?" she asks in a small voice, Namjoon barely heard her if it wasn't for the silence ringing out in the car "Because the feeling has been eating me up. It's selfish of me do this because you're getting married in less than 12 hours, I know that. But you know me better than I know myself, baby." he whispers the endearment, not knowing she heard him.

Y/n turned to open the door, before she could get a foot out the door Namjoon speaks behind her "I might not stay for the entire ceremony tomorrow, I can't stand there in the aisle behind your husband to be and watch the two of you seal your marriage and your vows with a kiss, wishing it was me instead. I just can't,

"And I'm staying out of your lives, you'll never hear from me again in person. Consider it a wedding present." he states as Y/n finally gets out of the car, but not without closing the door with a bit more force than the usual. Namjoon flinched as his heart breaks, watching his security guard hold out an umbrella for her as it started raining heavily, quietly he lets his tears fall.

"Sir?" his driver asks hesitantly. Namjoon's driver has been around for 7 years now, so he has seen how madly in love Namjoon was with Y/n. Everyone saw it but never said a word to Y/n about it, the would even talk about how lucky she was to have caught the attention of Namjoon even before debut day. Some of them evwn assumed at one point that they were dating because of how Namjoon would look at her lovingly whenever she wasn't looking, "She'll come around, sir" he tries to lift the mood by giving Namjoon positive thoughts, but the only thing that would make Namjoon happy was to have her, but this was his reality and he knew that.

"Not everyone gets a happy ending," he says sad

"But destiny gives it to those who deserve it," his driver tells him

"I..." Namjoon started "I don't think I believe in destiny anymore... she... seems cruel to those she abandons..." his driver simply nodded as they drove back to the hotel.

Falling onto the bed, Namjoon stared at the ceiling letting everything he had just done marinade into his reality. Pick up his phone he quickly sends a text to his group chat with the other members before turning off his phone as notifications started coming in.

Namjoon: She knows everything. I asked the driver to leave the drive in her room earlier.

Back the house where Y/n in preparation for her wedding, everyone was fast asleep except for her mother who was waiting for her in yer room a paper bag on the table next to her.

"Oh good, you're back," she says smiling "Let's get ready for bed, you need enough rest for tomorrow,"

Nodding at her mom then at the paper bag beside her she asks, "What's that?"

"Oh, right," she lightly exclaimed "Namjoon's driver left it for you, he says it's a wedding gift." Y/n slowly opens the bag that her mom hands out before sitting beside her at the end of the bed.

Pulling out a heavy item that was as the side of a DVD but thicker.

"What is it?" her mom asks alout of curiosity, but she knew well what it was and what it possibly consisted.

With tears pooling in her eyes, she looks at her mother finally letting everything she learned tonight sink in.

"Do you think I'm making the right decision? Marrying Armand?" I ask her

"While you're very much in love with Namjoon?" she asks sighing "No. But if you're asking me for the sake of the feeling of because you just want to be married, then it's also a no.

"I love Armand, he's a great kid. Treats you right and all, but I don't think he's really ready to settle down. I have a feeling that you're just going to be an unhappy trophy wife when you get older. I even see you two probably getting divorced because I think you're only together for the sake of convenience, but I don't see you too completely in love with each other."

Y/n pulls her in for a hug, rubbing her back as she sobbed in her mother's arms, "You're the only one who knows the right answer, no one is forcing you to choose someone. It's your decision to follow your heart by following what you know in your head is right." Slowly her mom leaves her alone to rest once she's calmed down.

Picking up the hard drive she noticed two invisible sticky note on it, sitting on the chair in front of her laptop which was on a coffee table she reads the note that says,

Condition two: Before you plug this in to your laptop, promise me that you will forgive me for everything. For not telling you that I love you sooner.

I wish I did, it's something I'll regret until my dying breath. So please, humor this clumsy, old soul. Forgive me.

x. NJ.

Carefully taking them off of the surface of the drive and placing them on the empty pads of the laptop, she plugs it in only to be greeted by a password screen.

Your color of your favorite ice-cream that I'll never eat / Nature.

Letting out a chuckle and a quiet sob, she quickly types in 'green' then she had access. She was greeted with three folders each named 'Part 1- Start here', 'Part 2 - Dream of me.' and 'Part 3 - Farewell'. Deciding to respect his wishes, she opens the first folder, inside was one video entitled 'Open me' that she ended up playing. As the player loaded up, she was greeted by Namjoon's tired appearance. Chin on the palm of his hand that rested on the arm rest of his chair.

I guess this is gonna be the first video? he mutters to himself as she sighs heavily, sitting up to look straight into the camera

Okay... Hi? I'm not exactly sure what I'm doing. I just finished a whole bottle of whiskey with Yoongi hyung. He didn't exactly stop me so... I kept drinking. Today is... he pauses to look at the screen of his phone

December 28th. Y/n's breath was caught on her throat, it was the night of she announced her engagement to Armand.

Actually it's the 29th, it's past midnight. You probably know what today is - or yesterday, but I'll remind you because I'm good ol' pal of yours. he took a deep breath as he rubbed his temples You got engaged a couple of hours ago he sings sadly to himself Hence, whiskeeeyyyy. My best friend.. aside from the members... and you.

Namjoon pours the amber liquid on to a glass that had one ice, swirled it around a couple of times before drinking it in one go as if it was a shot of Soju.

I'm doing this... thing, he motions a hand to the camera as a farewell. Because you're going to belong to someone else, and that someone ain't me, baby, he takes another swig before continuing I'm gonna send you a copy of all of these, he grabs the camera from where it was placed and pointed it to the screen of his computer monitor that was showing organized folders dated by year.

I'm gonna turn this into a huge ass movie and give you a copy. Just to show you how much... I love you, he mutters the last part to himsepf probably knowing by now that the microphone picked it up. Namjoon puts the camera back to where it originally was then he looks directly at it, I'll always love you. But I wanna show you how I fell in love with you and why. I can do it in two ways: write you a song or pile all these up into a movie... or both.

He lazily grins at the camera before saying I've already done the first part, so now imma do this. Originally, I planned making this for you so that one day when I confessed my love for you and I proposed, I would play this as a proposal video or when ended up getting married, this was gonna be my wedding present. But since, neither of those are gonna happen this is gonna be my wedding and parting present for you.

He eventually stops talking and after a minute or two of spacing out he suddenly says Keep your end of the promise. Please. The second one is important. At least send me a text or tell someone to relay it to me if you don't want to talk to me directly. Just let me know you forgive me for my cowardice and for me never seeing you again.

The video ends and Y/n moves on to the enxt folder where she found a scanned file that she opens and finds a handwritten letter from Namjoon.

"You used to say you like romantic stuff like keeping pictures, handwritten notes, late night dates, random short dates, text messages about your day and sweet boba tea with snacks whenever you were sad. I gave you all that, I hope he does that and if he does hope he'll continue to do that for you even when you're old and gray, you deserve that. You deserve it."

Closing the image file, she moves on to the video and when her video player launched and the video was playing she was greeted by pictures of her with Namjoon from when they met from the first time when she transferred to Seoul. Pictures kept moving back and forth from the screen, even a few video clips played, including ones she's never seen before. The first one that surprised her was a video clip from her college orientation, the boys were already quite known around the country and they were already making a name for themselves abroad, and Namjoon surprised her by traveling back home to South Korea even just for a day to see her, months before he had to be convinced to get down from a tree. In the video, the college seniors made the freshmen perform and she was singing Dream a little dream of me, a song Namjoon knew but a talent he never knew she had. He was with Hobi when they sneaked in the auditorium and while she was performing Hobi took a video of the whole performance backstage with her on one side and Namjoon's side profile on the other. He was staring, jaw dropped at the sight before him. He was in love with her, that was the moment he fell and Hobi pointed it out as everyone applauded when Y/n performance ended.

"Holy shit, Hoba," he gapes

"Is that your girl, Namjoon-ah?" Hobi asked only to catch Namjoon's reaction on camera as he slowly nods and mutters "yeah... that's my girl right there... " Y/n heart dropped when she heard his words. The had to go back a few times when he said it, she wanted to believe it... so bad. Every picture was now a pulling at her heart strings and it was past midnight when she got to the last folder containing a video entitled 'Farewell.', and not having any other choice, she played it. Recognizing the background of the the hotel in Las Vegas when they had their concert for Permission to dance, she knew the video was fairly recent.

Hey, me again. Probably for the last time by the time you watch this. I'm not sure if I wanna watch you exchange vows with him tomorrow. I don't have the heart or the guts to face that, call me a coward all you want. Call me all the names you want to. I'm pretty sure I deserve it. he sighs, leaning back on his chair and stretching his largs arms out. I'm tired, but you came today to surprise us. He doesn't know you're here, and I love you for that, breaking all your rules for me, and it's taking everything in me to stop myself from knocking at your door that's across mine; to kiss you senseless and make you forget he ever existed but I have to stop myself he chuckles, shaking his head slightly so for tonight, before you join me in my museum hopping adventure across the country, I'll stay up wishing, hoping, praying even, that you will come knocking at my door asking if you could sleep over because your room feels weird. You used to do that when you joined us on tour for Love Yourself, you spent your entire summer vacation with us and I loved every minute of your presence. Even as you slept next to me in my hoodie.

He stops talking for a good second as he reminisces and he before he continued, he looked directly at the camera as if looking directly at Y/n and says I want to see you grow old beside me like that. But if I ever get the guts to see you one last time, may it be on the day of your wedding or the night before as long as you know how I feel about you. Whether you accept it or not, return it or, most likely, not. I'll live the rest of my days knowing that I never find anyone else who will make me feel the way you did, and I'll never look at another woman the way I look at you. If I were to be selfish, I want you. You. You are all I'll ever want to live in this world, fuck air... fuck water... fuck food, man. You. Are. All. I. Want. And. Need. You're my everything, from the day I laid eyes on you I knew you were the one, all it took was for you to sing Dream a little dream for me to realize I was in love with you. But I was too late. And here we are. Me, watching you be another man's wife. You, watching me do all of this, just to ask for your forgiveness and to never get mad me for being a coward and not telling you all this sooner. I love you, Y/n. I don't understand why you can't see that... Namjoon' places his head in his hands as he starts crying, Y/n started crying wondering herself if she was making the right decision marrying Armand just to be an unhappy trophy wife in the future. I love you so much, I don't want you to marry him but I love you too much to disrespect your wishes and stop you from marrying him. That should be me, jagiya... you know that I don't exactly like him but I know you know what's best for you. So I'll let you go. Your happiness is all I want to see.

Harshly wiping his tears away, he says his goodbye I'll always be here when you need me, you know where to find me. And I'll still welcome you with open arms, as if all of this never happened. I'll wait. I'll always wait for you to come back home. But for now... farewell, baby. Namjoon blows a kiss at the camera before turning it off.

Y/n did go to his room that night complaining that the bed was uncomfortable whuch was true and that it was too cold, that was a white lie to steal a hoodie and he let her willingly. When she asked why his eyes were glassy, he waived it off saying he was really sleepy and tired, and she bought it. Y/n cried harder, muffling her loud sobs with the throw pillow that she was hugging while she was watching their videos.

She didn't cry because she because she knew deep down tonight was the last time she saw Namjoon, but she cried because for the first time since she met Armand, she knew she didn't fully love him.

~~~~~^^~~~~~~~~^^^^

Bright light greeted Y/n when her mother and the bridesmaids pulled the curtains open letting the sunlight pour in, she spent the whole night crying as she rewatched all of the videos until she fell asleep at past 4am.And it wasn't even 5 hours since she was lulled to sleep.

"Good morning sunshine!!!" her maid of honor and best friend yelled, but stopped in their tracks when they saw her puffy face and reddish eyes "What in the world happened to you? You're not sick are you?!" she exclamed. Y/n shook her head saying that she just couldn't sleep, but the other ladies in the room knew otherwise. However, they decided not to comment on it.

Getting up to bathe, she tried her best to depuff her face specifically her eyes which felt very warm. While her make up was done and most of the swelling went down, Y/n eyes started tearing up and her lips started to quiver making the make-up artist stop to look at her mother and best friends for help, and help they did. Every one was rushed out of the room, once the door was shut Y/n couldn't help but cry harder than she did in the early morning. No words of comfort helped until her dad arrived, "I thought you had a wedding to prepare for, what's going on?" he asked concerned, as he closed the door and made his way to his daughter to pull her in a hug one her best friend asks "Is this about Namjoon?"

Y/n's head shot up as she looked up at her, "W-why would you ask that?" Y/n asks

"I saw him drop you off last night, I'm guessing the dinner didn't go because of the way I woke up past midnight and heard you crying in your room," she holds Y/n hand "When are you both going to stop being idiots?" Y/n mom asks

"Hey," he chuckles at his wife, arms still wrapped around his daughter in a hug "we're still idiots even at this age, the correct question is 'when are they going to stop being blind to what they really feel'."

Y/n stood up and walked towards her laptop bringing it to where her parents were sitting. Playing the videos her parents and best friend's reaction didn't change. Y/n kept her eyes on the floor, thanking God that they had enough time to spare before they did the first look of the bride and groom an hour before the wedding. Y/n parents looked at each other with a knowing look before looking at their daughter who was now quietly letting her tears stain the bathrobe and camisole she was wearing.

"Do you forgive him like he asked?" her mom asks to which she nods

"Do you love him back?" her dad asks to which she nods her head repeatedly and cries some more this time her sobs were heard throughout the room as her parents pull her in for a hug.

Back at the hotel, the rest of the boys were trying to convince Namjoon to get dressed but he just sat on the couch refusing to move, and none of them made an effort to make him stand up , not even Jungkook.

"Come on, man," Hobi says "You have to be there, call it a last glimpse or a last look at her. You'll never see her again after today,"

"I already said goodbye, Hoba," Namjoon said in a low whisper like voice "I don't need to do it in person,"

"Hyung," Jimin started "You told her she can ask questions right, then let her ask today, you might even get a chance to know if she forgave you,"

"Think about it, Namjoon-ah," Jin says as he fixes his neck tie "You'll get to keep the image of her walking down the aisle towards you forever embedded in your memory," Taehyung was able to tell off the eldest for being to mean but Jimin stops him before he could. Jin had a plan, and it was definitely worked the way Namjoon stayed silent before he slowly got up to head back into his room and they heard the shower running.

When they made it to the church, everyone was chatting about how beautiful the wedding was and how they couldn't wait to see the bride and groom. Namjoon sighs heavily for what felt like the hundredth time and it was just the afternoon. Namjoon sat down with the rest of Y/n friends and family, he didn't want to be there, but Jin somehow convinced him to. For an unknown reason, he wanted that. He wanted the image of Y/n walking down the aisle looking like a blooming bride in his memory until his dying breath.

Back in the villa where the first look was about to take place, Armand stood facing a tree covered with sheer golden ribbons and fairy lights reminding him of Christmas ribbons put on trees for decoration. Y/n was in the hallway having a word with one of production staff filming the wedding and the photographer, though her parents managed to get her in the wedding dress she didn't look quite happy as she wanted to be.

"It doesn't feel right," she comments when her mom was right in front of her fixing her dress

Her mom hummed "That's because you've been in love with your best friend and didn't even know it until last night," she smiles "You know the right thing to do, your dad and I raised you well to know what's right and to choose what makes you happy. You're a smart woman, you'll figure it out,"

And now, staring at her fiance's back she knew what to do.

~~~~~^^~~~~~~~~^^^^

Namjoon was on his third glass of champagne when they announced that the wedding was about to begin. With the glass being snatched away from him by Jimin, who drank it all in one go before returning it to the waiter that walked by.

"That was mine," he slightly glared at Jimin "Well, it's in my stomach now having a party with the hors d'oeuvres," he smiles at him smugly. Namjoon decided to drop the topic trying his best not to get too pissed or he was going to lose his mind and temper.

As soft music starts playing, everyone turns around to watch the entourage except for Namjoon, he stares straight ahead and when the groom finally takes his place their eyes meet. Armand nods at him and Namjoon returns it. When the maid of honor, your best friend was finally done walking the aisle, everine was patiently waiting for Y/n, but the modernized wedding march didn't play making the six members look at each other confused when Jungkook tells them she's at the door of the ceremony area. He even pointed it out, making them turn around discreetly and he was right, ends of your wedding dress was peeking at the foggy glass near the base of the door. It would appear for a second then it would disappear only to appear a few seconds later, Jungkook felt nervous for the groom but a part of him was happy. He knew you were pacing. Biting his lip to stop himself from disrespectfully smirking at the groom, he looks down to close his eyes from anyone seeing his hopefulness, but the other members except for Namjoon knew what he was thinking as the look each other with smiling eyes. Namjoon's farewell and last appearance did more than just evoke emotions that she's buried years ago. It was, at mere moments before her wedding, making her choose what she knew was right.

Behind the closed door, Y/n paced as she thought about what she was going to say. Her dad was relaxed but concerned with her pacing. It was a good ten minutes before she looked at her dad and finally nodded. He didn't know what was going on inside her head but he trusted her and her decisions. He just prayed she had known earlier so they didn't have to worry too much about spending on a wedding like this. Taking her dad's arm, the wedding planner and production team already knew what was about to happen but they weren't too worried.

As the wedding march played, Namjoon and Armand's eyes meet one last time, and Armand mouths something at him that he didn't quite understand, it made Armand chuckle and instead pointed at him mouthing you followed by a thumbs up. Still not understanding he turns around to look at Y/n who was a few feet away from him. The sight of her made him gasp quietly, Jin was right and he was glad he listened. It was worth it to see her in white walking down the aisle and remember it for the rest of his life. She looked beautiful it was painful to look at her, he wanted to tear his eyes away from her gaze, but didn't have the heart to look at the love of his life be a vision in white and ignore it.

Y/n was surprised when she spotted Namjoon standing with the rest of the members and her family. She kept her eyes on him until he turned to look at her and for the first time since she turned away from what she felt for him, she finally realized why she fell in love with him all those years ago. When Y/n finally reached the end the aisle, she and Armand smiled at each other before facing the pastor and before he could even get a eord out Armand beat him to it, "Give us a second please," he whispered which surprised the pastor but none the less respected it, turning to Y/n who was staring in space he gently calls her name making her turn to him slowly. Giving her a kind, small smile and nod he says "Go ahead, I'll take care of everything. You don't need to worry about it. I was the one who dragged you into this in the first place."

Y/n looked up at him with teary eyes, "But..."

"Remember what I said an hour ago?" he asks to which she nods in response "Do it."

Turning around, he faces their guests lightly touching her elbow as a way of letting her know she can go, and when he chuckles and tells her to go without making a second thought she grabs the however many yards of tulle of her wedding dress and runs for the exit.

"And she finally lives her Julia Roberts moment," he shakes his head in disbelief as he laughs while everyone gasps at Y/n's actions.

"Everyone calm down, it's okay," Armand reasures them. The seven boys including Namjoon who felt a chill down his spine looks back and forth between the groom and the door that Y/n just disappeared off to. While the entire guests were speaking amongst each other in loud volumes, Armand makes his way towards Namjoon grinning like a fool, "Go after her," he says making Namjoon stare it him as if he's lost his mind

"What?!" Namjoon says in disbelief that is sounded as if he squeaked "What the fuck are you going on about?"

"Just go. Go find her, you know where. Tell her hiw you really feel," Armand says

"I have no clue what you're talking about, man," he denies

"Stop lying to me and to everyone including yourself, Namjoon," Armand exclaimed with a chuckle "We all know you love her, and she's in love with you,"

"That-... that is not true," Namjoon denies once more "She's supposed to be marrying you,"

"Out of convenience because I needed to get married for my father to pass the business on to me and she knew that from the beginning!" he interrupts Namjoon "We fell in love but I she stayed because she was heartbroken after seeing you with somebody else!" The other six boys who were listening were finding the story entertaining and they listened intently with wide eyes and jaws dropped.

"Y/n has been in love with you even before I met her, she's told me that but when she saw all of you in a club and you were with another girl, she got jealous and told me she doesn't love you anymore. But, brother, I know the look she gives you and the looks you give her when no body else is looking, now go. You know exactly where to find her, "

" Go! " the other members start yelling at him and start pushing him towards the exit

"Hey bro," Y/n best friend yells out "Bring her back here and get married or I'm marrying Jungkook,"

"Hurry back, please," Jungkook whispers at him before pushing him to the exit, all the members behind him. Namjoon's driver was already waiting for him in the car at the valet and as soon as he sits his driver gives him a loud laugh as he drives to the main road yelling "I told you so!" as they sped away, not knowing the other members were all packed up like sardines in a car following them.

~~~~~^^~~~~~~~~^^^^

Y/n walked the halls of high school that he and Namjoon attended back when they were teenagers. It was pouring outside and she didn't bring a jacket or change out of her dress when she ran away. The students who saw her asked her if she was okay and why she was crying, explaining that they were tears of joy they waited on the roof of the school's entrance until their parents picked them up. Not being able to enter the school she walked around the building until she reached a nearby gazebo, the exact spot where she and Namjoon first locked eyes and exchanged awkward smiles at each other. The ends of her dress were turning brown with all the rainwater and mud she ran into, she was thankful that even though she was wearing heels they were closed shoes protecting most of her feet from rain.

Sitting on the gazebo bench, she leans down to take off her shoes, massaging her feet as she places both of it on the bench as she sat sideways. She was quite thankful that she was able to grab a taxi that took her halfway to the school with a small amount of money her best friend put in the pockets of her dress. Yes, she had her dress customized to have pockets and she was glad that it came in handy. Gazing out into the football field, she thought about how her body and her mind dragged her there. It was an unconscious thing that she did. Whenever she fought with Namjoon or Armand, or anyone for that matter, they would always find her here sitting on the gazebo. It was what Hobi called a Safe Zone, somewhere no one could get mad or attack her. It was her second safe zone anyway, first being Namjoon, but she stopped running to Namjoon unless she was devastated. He was the only one who was able to comfort her in ways Armand couldn't and he knew that.

That's why when he heard the faint footsteps of Y/n behind her, he had an inkling that the wedding wasn't going to happen from the way he saw her crying as she ran up the stairs and how devastated Namjoon looked as the car drove away. He knew that she finally found out that Namjoon was in love with her and he was okay with that, he accepted it. He even went up to her room hours after she arrived, he was about to knock on the door when he heard a loud sob and her quiet cries. He knew from that moment that the time he feared arrived but he wasn't angry, he was sad not for himself but for the both of them. For a precious friendship possibly broken.

"Armand?" she quietly calls for him making turn around and seeing her in her dress he thought she'd make a beautiful bride but not for him. Shaking her head with tears in her eyes, she starts apologizing to him.To her surprise, Armands steps forward and wraps his arms around her, rubbing her back gently "I know, I know. It's okay," he tries to soothe her "You can cry, it's okay. It's just us." And he let her. For a good few minutes he let her cry, tears staining his suit but he didn't mind.

"What am I supposed to do?" she asked when finally got the chance to breathe

"I'm not really sure what to tell you, Y/n, because as much as I want to marry you 'cause I love you and I can't force you to marry me when we both know that you're really in love with him."

"How come every one knows that?"

"Because we've all seen signs but chose to ignore it or shrug it off, simply because of the fact that we're dating. But every one could see right through the two of you, even I did.

"I'm not mad at you for being in love with him while you were with me, I just wished you realized sooner. It would've been less miserable and less painful for you both." he admitted, taking her hand he kisses her knuckles "I accept if you don't want to go through with the wedding anymore, but please do me a favor and walk down the aisle so they wouldn't think you just bailed on the wedding. You can run away right before everyone sits down. Just look around for a bit, you put a lot of hard work planning what you wanted,

"It just so happens that it's with the wrong guy," he smiles "Go be happy, love." he leans forward to kiss her forehead "You deserve happiness with the man you truly love,"

Namjoon asked to be dropped off at Y/n apartment thinking she would be there but tye receptionist mentioned that she didn't see Y/n enter the building making Namjoon runnto his building that was next door to see if she was waiting by his front door only to be disappointed. Walking back to the car he finally spots the car behind his driver and walks up to it, only to find his brothers squeezed in between the two rows of the Starex.

"What are you guys doing here?" he asks eyebrows pulling together

"Did you really think we were going to let run out to look for her on your own?!" Yoongi shot back at him "How in the world were you going to look for her?"

"You went to the most obvious places she would never go" Jin pointed out "She would never go back to her place or yours, it's not a great idea to wind down in a closed off area,"

"Well where do you think she went if you all think you're damned geniuses?" Namjoon exclaimed out of frustration "She's out in the middle of Seoul all alone in a fucking wedding gown and it's raining!"

"Watch your language, Namjoon-ah," Jin said in a stern voice that he rarely uses on his younger brothers "You don't have to be mad at us when all we're trying to do is help," Namjoon immediately backed down not wanting the eldest to be upset with him.

"I just..." he started "I need to find her, she gets sick easily and I don't want her to get hurt, she's out there all alone-"

"You're not kids anymore, Namjoon-ah," Yoongi tells him "She could handle herself, but I know what you mean about her being alonenand needing to find her asap. So start using that brain of yours to think about where she could go, somewhere only the two of you would know.

"There are so many places we went to over the past fifteen years, how am I supposed to remember all of them?" he says in a panic as a thunder rumbles above them

"Do you think she'd go to hyung's parents?" Jimin asks them

"To Ilsan?" Namjoon asks "It's too far away, and she wouldn't go there knowing my parents aren't..." he stops mid-sentence, looking at the road seeing that there wasn't too much traffic ahead, he was mentally calculating time

"What's wrong, hyung?" Taehyung asks him, looking at where he was looking

"Home," Namjoon finally says in a quiet voice "Home. I know where she is," he says in a firmer voice before running back to his car and tells the driver where to go and his brothers follow right behind him.

~~~~~^^~~~~~~~~^^^^

"I swear we're gonna get arrested, Namjoon-ah," Y/n says in a panic holding his hand in a death grip, but he didn't mind. They're both usually paired up together with a senior back in high school because of how clumsy and heavy-handed, but Y/n was naturally clumsier than heavy-handed, that talent was something that Namjoon excelled in. But what they're doing was completely reckless.

"It's not breaking and entering, babe," he teases, Y/n blushed at the endearment hiding her face on his shoulder "The gazebo is outside and the place isn't even gated, it's practically part of the park's property if you follow the invisible line"

"I don't care, out school thinks it theirs I'm not disrespecting their decisions considering the fact that I need to graduate and not get expelled or arrested for trespassing,"

"Let them try," he mutters as they walk nearer to the gazebo

"You're an idiot," she sighs "We both are..."

"Welcome home, baby," he jokes as they step into the gazebo, their surroundings were only lit by the moonlight and a street lamp "The baby's all tucked in bed and fast asleep,"

"Keep joking around like that and you just might have to marry me,"

"Don't dare me," he chuckles "It's gonna be your problem, I'm not Jin hyung or Yoongi hyung. I won't be able to cook for you,"

"Or keep the place clean," you laugh

"Ya!" he exclaimed too loudly making him cover his mouth and Y/n silently laughs "You're lucky you don't live with us,"

"What are you going to do?" she dared "Vacuum the place in the early morning? You must have forgotten that I'm a heavy sleeper,"

"You sleep like Jungkook, nothing can wake you up except for food," he smiles as he comfortably places his arm on the bench behind her. Behind them was a fence that separated the school from the park where there was a couple by the swing set.

"You know we could just get married and not tell anyone," he tries to dare her "The city hall isn't that far all we gotta do is wait for the next available date,"

"You're crazy," she chuckled "Focus on your debut and your dream, not to mention you have to finish school and all. When you're done with all of that, let's talk weddings and marriage, and every thing in between,"

"How about we live together till then?" he proposed "We'll have a little house, maybe two bedrooms one for us, the other for an office and maybe in the future it will turn into a nursery,"

"You're too drunk," she laughs off his offer nit knowing how serious he was "We should have stayed with soju instead of shifting gears to whiskey,"

"I'm serious," he protests eyes wide as he gently places another hand on the table, leaning closer to her "We could get married when I've saved up for a wedding you want once the debut becomes a success,"

"Namjoon-ah," she started "Listen to what you're saying. This isn't a joke, we have our own dreams to make come true. Are you absolutely sure you want to start family before you could even stand on your own two feet? Bangtan's debut is next week and you're thinking about getting married,

"If does become a success, you won't have time for a relationship let alone a family of your own until the dust has settled," she watches Namjoon's reaction as he looks away from her, he knew he should have confessed earlier before Bang PD-nim announced their upcoming debut. But deep down, he knew she was right. However, he was persistent he wanted to be with her before someone else could step in. He had a feeling he was going to lose her once his focus fully shifts to being the leader of Bangtan.

"For now, we can enjoy this friendship," she says smiling as she was rubbing his shoulder, but Namjoon thinks that it was his heart that needed to be in your touch to heal from this rejection "and we could call this little gazebo 'home' if you want. Our 'little home', a place only we know and the only place we can truly be ourselves and be comfortable."

"This gazebo is home if you're here," he partially agrees with her "If you're not here, this is just another gazebo. You're my home, Y/n,"

"Ditto, nerd," she sighs resting her head on the shoulder she was rubbing. Placing a small kiss on his shoulder she whispers "Go win their hearts, Namjoon-ah. I know the seven of you guys are gonna make it big. You have something others don't,"

"Hmm... And what would that be?"

"Passion, patience, determination, one dream and the best part, you have each other." Y/n smiles to herself, "But the biggest flex your team has is that they have you as their leader, it takes a great team to succeed, but a great leader will make a great team succeed be even better,

So, believe me when I say you'll make it big. And I'm gonna be right behind you, watching all of you reach your dreams and live it" she said proudly.

Namjoon let the tears flooding his eyes fall as he kisses the top of her head. He knew that he had to succeed to make her proud, he finally compromised with himself that he should make her proud and come back to her when the right time comes.

"Just don't forget about me, Joonie," she teases "I'll forever be your number one fan,"

"Don't be ridiculous, Y/n-ssi. You're going to be right next to me the whole ride, you gonna be with me all the time. I'll make sure of it."

That early morning, Namjoon walked her back to her dorm before going back home to his dorm. Not completely happy about being rejected by Y/n, but feeling more determined. It was like adding wood to a campfire, add more and the fire becomes bigger, that fire was his determination. Little did he know, she was gonna end up moving om with her life without him as he focused more and more on his job.

"YA! I've been looking everywhere for you," a voice says behind Y/n making her turn around quickly as she snaps out of her thoughts. Namjoon always thought that she never remembered that night because of how drunk she was, but that was the evening that Y/n found out that she had a pretty high tolerance with alcohol that over the years whenever the boys got drunk, Yoongi and Y/n would be the last ones standing. A secret that Yoongi kept, knowing that it would be a useful talent of hers in the future, and, man was he right .

"Do you know how fucking worried I was about you?!" he asks her his tone indicating a hint of anger with the concern laced in his voice "You could get sick with how reckless you are. Can't you see it's pouring and you're in a fucking dress?!" Standing in the rain, Namjoon's chopped blonde hair was wet and so was his dress shirt and coat. Y/n couldn't place the look he had in his face, no doubt he looked worried and mad, but there was something else. Longing, she decided, and hope. Both a very dangerous combination.

"Go home, Namjoon-ah," she says through the the noise of the rain splattering on the roof of the gazebo and the pavement "You don't have to worry about me, I'll just grab a bus home."

"Like hell you are," he scoffed "And I'm not done talking"

Y/n wanted to take her shoes and throw it at him, and she was seconds from doing so. Not like it was the first time she threw a shoe at him.

"What the hell happened?" he asks and she rolled her eyes "Why did you run away from the wedding? People are getting more and more worried about you, you should go back and get dried up. Armand sent me to get you."

"He didn't send you, dad did." Y/n says "Dad was the last person to talk to Armand before I walked down the aisle. So, it's most likely dad.

And don't fucking ask me what happened when you were the one who sent a hard drive filled of videos of you getting trashed," she started fuming "Stop pretending like you didn't say the things you said last night to put me where I am right now, you little piece of shit!" she grabbed her shoe and hurled it at his direction aiming for his head only to surprise her when he ducked to the side and dodged it like a pro making the boys in the car who were watching the entire thing happening with Jungkook and Hobi taking videos, howl at how impressive it was.

"Oooh!," Hobi chuckled "Oh he's gonna be in trouble for dodging that one!" all of them laughed as Jimin asked "We're such bad friends for filming this,"

"Hey, now," Jin said from the passenger seat "At least we came to support him, and we're not just his friends, we're family too,"

"You measly little fucker," Y/N gritted as she threw another one this time the show landed on his muscled bicep "You dare," she threw a bracelet she was wearing "fucking" she struggled with taking the viel from her head before bundling it into a ball and throwing it at him "dodge me. You asshole!" From the car, Hobi snort-laughed as they continued filming "Told you," making Jimin lightly hit his arm as they all chuckled.

"Call me whatever you want, Y/n, if it's going to make you sleep better tonight," Namjoon said to her his tone returning to how he started when he arrived "If it makes you fucking happier do it,"

"Why did you show up?" Y/n demanded as she walked up to him not caring about getting rained on, a part of Namjoon wanted to pull her back in the gazebo but he was frozen at the sight before him, just like how frozen he was in his place when she walked the aisle not less than 2 hours ago, "What made you think you could just show up?! Didn't you say you weren't going to be there? Did you finally muster up the courage to stop being god damned coward? You fucking bastard!" she yelled and cried, she was pushing him away from her over and over again, and Namjoon let her slam her fists on his chest repeatedly, but to his surprise she didn't hit him as hard as he thought she would. Gently grabbing her wrists, he wraps her arms around his torso pulling her close in a hug as he placed a hand behind her head and another one around her back. Y/n stiffened under his touch before she relaxed and quietly sobbed with her face on his coat, soaked in the rain and her tears.

Without any hesitation he places a kiss on the top of her head before gently holding her face with both hands and leaning down just so his lips were near hers, but he didn't move. Instead he waited for her, and when she finally understood why he didn't move and longingly stared at her lips, she did the one thing they've both been waiting for since they fell in love with each other in high school and finally, her lips met his. When Namjoon pulled away, resting his forehead on hers, he whispers to her "I'm never letting you go again. You're not going to get rid me that easily this time around," Y/n giggled as she leans up again for another kiss and Namjoon gladly kissed her back, finally tasting the lips he's been craving for so long.

Back in the car, the boys were giggling and smiling like high schoolers. Jungkook was still filming the entire thing and the audio surely caught all of their side comments and the noises they all made when they finally kissed for the first time.

"Now that," Jin pointed out his window, "Is better than any existing and upcoming dramas on TV,"

"Definitely," Yoongi smiled

"We finally don't have to deal with a grumpy Namjoon hyung," Taehyung sighed happily "Our world is finally at peace"

"You can't say that," Jungkook objected chuckling, "Now they're gonna get married and have kids, hyung. We're ginna have little Namjoons running around the office," Hobi laughed out loud, clapping as he did. Jimin stared at him with wide puppy eyes, "W-wait... But they're both clumsy," he pointed out, then he muttered to himself "that means their kids are gonna be... Aiiishh-"

Opening the window next to Hobi and pushing out most of his upper body out, not caring about the rain he yells out to the couple who we're smiling at each other through their tears that were getting mixed with the rain that was falling on them, "YA! YOU BETTER NOT BE MAKING KIDS SOON, YOU IDIOTS!" this time tue other members laughter reached their ears, the car no longer soundproof because of the opened window. Namjoon looked back at his friend and he tightened his arms around Y/n, "I got bad news for you, Jimin-ah," he smiles "You might see them sooner than you think," this time along with the sound of laughter mainly Hobi's due to his reaction to Jimin's wide eyed look at the couple, joined a few sounds of complaints mainly from Yoongi and Jin who knew immediately that they can't say no if the time comes for them to be babysitters for Y/n's kids, but decided to give complaining a try if it means it will buy them time to mentally prepare for mini-me's of the middle child of Bangtan.

Namjoon ignores the other members and turns back around to the gazebo walking towards it with his hand still holding Y/n as they sit.

"You ruined my wedding," she muttered lamely while they were seated inside the gazebo, arms still around each other.

"We'll have a better one," he promised her "that's if you want one. I mean it, what I said; I'm not letting you go again. It was the biggest mistake I made, I'm not going to make that mistake again."

"A wedding with you? And if I don't want to be with you?" she says almost in a daring manner, her chin resting on his chest as she looks up at his face

"Move in with me or start a family with me, either way, be with me; be mine and I'll be yours" He says, and at that moment Y/n recalls the early morning they got drunk and how he called the gazebo their home "I just want to be with you, that's all I want. Stay with me, please" Y/n watched Namjoon's every move and if back then he was recklessly discussing marriage with her with no clue about what the future holds for them both. Now, he knows exactly what he wants and it's to marry her, spend his life with her.

After a beat, she smiles and pulls him in to press a kiss on his cheek.

"Is that a yes?"

"Only one way to find out, Namjoon-ah" she grinned.

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

(Epilogue anyone?🤣) Thank you for reading, please leave you feedback in the comments or send me an ask and please reblog if you enjoyed it.

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sukirichi · 4 years ago

Text

fall from grace

“If you were in love,” he began, voice barely above a whisper, “What would be the most beautiful thing those lips of yours would utter?”

“Your name.”

REQUEST/WARNINGS. (royal au, mutual pining, praise kink ) fake dating au, mirror sex, slight manhandling, fingering, body marking, prejudice, mentions of abuse, injustice, and inequality + unedited (I’m so lazy to edit tbh, I’m so sorry, just bear with me if there are typos or grammatical errors)

NOTES. I LOVE AND HATE THIS STORY

WC. 7k+

SONG INSPO. Ashes (Celine Dion)

The prince himself lifted his chin up higher; long, slender fingers deftly grazing against the pad of your knuckles that were pressed on his chest.

The tips of your ears burned at the sight of people pausing from their conversations all to witness the scene – one that was so rare to have come from the infamous Crown Prince known to have bedded more women than he could count.

“Your Highness,” you pinched your brows together, leaning closer into him to bring you the least bit of comfort. The dress you had to wear today had nothing but itchy lace; albeit elegant, you preferred the loose materials of your dance clothes, painted red lips fighting back a grimace. “Must we really do this in public?”

The Crown Prince laughs, his white hair fluttering against the soft kisses of the wind. Beautiful, you think, beautiful, you are reminded, prompting you to dig your free hand deeper into the flesh of your thighs.

“What would be the point of our ruse if we are not a little flashy, My Lady?”

You frowned at his words, head ducked down as you avoided everyone’s prying eyes. You supposed you should be used to this – you are a performer, after all – but the attention was terribly unwelcomed yet expected from your previous agreements.

The said agreement, however, did not affect your standing as a person, something you had to remind the happy-go-lucky Prince. “I am not of that title.”

“People regard you of it,” he commented at an off-beat, his crystalline eyes sweeping over the crowd with a chilling command, a slight bite of a challenge that asked his people to dare him. When they shifted away, scurrying behind fluffed up skirts and pressed down suits, the Crown Prince snickered, smiling down at you with a flash of his pearly whites. “You are, after all, hanging prettily off my arm.”

“Because you asked me to, Your Highness.”

“Ah, are you forgetting already?” he paused, his long and elegant stature towering over yours. “I’m doing this for the both of us. The agreement was clear – you steered me away from my arranged marriage, redeem my nettling reputation, and in turn, I shall pick you up from where you’ve fallen,” your lips parted in protest, finger raised to correct that no, you had not fallen, that was not the situation at all, but he silenced you when he leaned down close enough that his eyes twinkled before you, lips turned at the side arrogantly. “In fact, I am more than capable of providing you more than that.”

“I am well aware of that, Your Highness. I truly am indebted to you.”

Should you be humiliated? Forming an agreement with the Crown Prince would be the last thing that would ever arrive even in your craziest dreams, yet there you were, in the middle of the town square, leisurely strolling with the Kingdom’s heir as if it was but a daily occurrence.

Thoughts running back to your latest predicament – which he just had to bear witness to – you winced, swallowing the resigned sigh that threatened to spill.

You did not have enough shame in you to be humiliated, not when he was right. It was a mutually beneficial agreement.

“You do not have to be,” Prince Satoru blinked at you, gray lashes fluttered against the pads of his cheeks. “I take extreme pleasure in saving a damsel in distress,” Your lips puckered out, tireless with the need to tell him it wasn’t like that, and the Prince easily read through you, tugging you back into his arm as he laughed. “Even when I know you are not. Still, it does feel nice to take a walk in this fine day, don’t you think?”

You snorted at the heavy sarcasm under his sweet tone, “It feels a little embarrassing.”

“You feel embarrassed that you’re with me?”

“Yes,” you gritted at your teeth, the lace of your gloves digging into your flesh. You wanted nothing more than to rip it off, the material a silent reminder of the requirement that must be met to fool the crowd. “You’re a prince and I am—”

“I thought we already established titles mean nothing when we both mutually benefit from one another,” he cut you off, hands coming up to caress at your cheeks. You immediately froze at his touch, the iciness behind those eyes doing nothing to soothe you until he spoke, the Prince’s words oddly gentle and warm like the sun that shone down on you that fine day. “Worry not about that. I do not care what people think of you. All I care is that you do well and I shall do my part gracefully in return,” he declared for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.

Back then, you never believed that people had power just because they were born with it. Power had to be manifested, trained, earned – yet Prince Satoru wielded it with his lips so effortlessly that in that moment, you believed magic really wasn’t a myth.

“Kiss me.”

“Wh-what?”

“Everyone is looking,” his eyes darted over the on looking crowd, his bare hand still caressing your warm cheeks, hot enough that it put the sun to shame. “Lest you want this plan to fail, I suggest you kiss me, darling. Passionately.”

The Crown Prince was right. Everyone was looking.

Your body’s response was instantaneous. A hiss of a breath, muscles tensed and fingers curled into a fist at your side; you could feel bile rising from your throat out of panic.

Then Prince Satoru leaned forwards, eyes snapped shut and his lips colliding with yours. The single touch had all the tension flooding away as you kissed the Prince, his lips tasting of cinnamon and sugar, vanilla and spice wafting off of him delicately that you had to fist at the collar of his shirt to prevent yourself from gobbling him up whole.

He would find that rather displeasing, claiming that you had little to no table manners, so you forced yourself to relax as he breathed air into your mouth, large hands cradled around your neck.

“I’ve got you,” he mumbled between kisses, the mere scent of royalty and forbidden elegance dripping off of him making you fearful to open your eyes. It felt illegal to touch the most wanted bachelor in your Kingdom this way, felt wrong to have his hands roaming down the slopes of your body while everyone looked at your shameless public display of faux romance. But if it was wrong, then why did he hold you so tenderly, not moving to push you away even as you nipped at his lips once more?

“You’re alright – I’ve got you.”

It was not easy being a no-name ballerina. You’ve crafted your skill for what seemed like your whole life, yet getting even a step closer to your dreams proved to be a daunting task. Even as your toes bruised and your muscles ached, pants heaved from your chest while you bended your body at will, you couldn’t stop thinking about how no one told you it was never easy to reach your dreams.

The fairytales had lied to you. They made it seem to easy to grab a star, never really explaining on how to be a star.

It felt so far away – the galaxy and universe you’d longer your entire life to be a part of – yet the Crown Prince stood at the corner of your studio, eyes dark as he watched you sway to the music.

A few weeks prior to your spontaneous arrangement, you were foolish enough to believe you could become that star easily. You were the lowest of ranks when it came to other girls; orphaned, no-named, broke, and loveless.

Unlike your peers that were bred of the finest titles and fed with silver spoons, nannies and courts running after them in their growing years, you had to survive on scraps, taking three jobs at the young age of thirteen just to get into dance school and afford the fees.

You believed title or ranking shouldn’t have had to do anything with talent and worth, but then again, you were foolish beyond your years.

The moment you heard you were chosen to be the Black Swan of this season, allowing you to debut, you squealed behind your skirt, training day and night to the point you’ve skipped your meals just to perfect your routine.

That was until your classmates’ parents had come inside the school, twirling their moustaches behind soft fingers that had never known a day’s worth of work, belly round with cupcakes and all the delicacies only they were privileged enough to eat, the nervous laughter of your ballet master enough to let you know what it all meant.

Your classmate – the prettiest and the richest one – came rushing past you as she giggled over the announcement that she would be the Black Swan.

She was far many years younger than you, spoiled and with an attitude that tasted as bad as your leftovers, and definitely not skilled enough to debut – but of course, nothing was ever impossible enough with money, right? Before you could even defend yourself, your ballet master had cleaned out your quarters, your skirts and shoes thrown onto the muddy dirt while you cried under the rain, begging for another chance.

Second chances? You wanted to laugh.

Only people who did wrong should ask for it, and yet you sat there on your knees, hands clasped in a prayer that should only be reserved for wish bearers, desperate pleads of please don’t do this to me echoing into the empty night.

Was it fate then that the Crown Prince was half drunk inside his vehicle, shades slipping off his nose as he turned your way, your cries rudely interrupting the music blaring inside his car?

Perhaps it was – a cruel or a wonderful fate; no one could tell – the only thing that mattered now was that the Crown Prince had yet again found interest in a woman.

Only this time he didn’t lust after their body, wished nothing to do with their hands on his, completely sober around your presence as he watched you train endlessly in your studio, your sweat making your clothes stick like a second skin.

Prince Satoru leaned back against the walls then.

He should’ve brought a drink with him. Had he known that watching you dance sensually with such a blissed out expression he was mostly familiar with when he had his legs wrapped around another warm body would set his body alight, sober, then he would’ve left long ago.

Still, the Prince is rendered frozen at the edge, eyes trailing over your graceful form as you bended, legs flying out into the air while you arms dipped and curved into the most graceful of arcs and bows that put his combat figures into shame.

You weren’t even trying to seduce him and yet he was wholly captivated.

He wants to say that the woman he saw that rainy night and the woman stood before him now, figure bathed in the small slivers of sunlight that peeked through the blinds and stockings hugging each and every curve and dip of your body were entirely two different people, but the longer he looked, there was no mistaking it was still the same person. The passion burned through your eyes, the soft melodious tunes of the music guiding you – or rather you guiding the beat before you fluttered to another.

Prince Satoru smiled.

It first came off as a joke that he wanted to know more about you – his pretend lover – because everyone knew the Crown Prince was too frivolous to ever settle down and find interest in a woman beyond her looks. The confused pout you gave him as he followed you inside your studio burned at the back of his brain, a silent warning that you were different; that you were not someone he could touch lest he wished to burn and break you, though that would be a lie, it seemed.

For every strong ripple of your muscles and flowy movement of your body as you completely delved into the space of your own home and comfort, the Prince knew – you were not someone he could crush into the palm of his hands.

He came here out of boredom.

He left the studio with a confused heart, cheeks resting on his palm as he asked his chauffer, when is the next show?

The birds chirped above you, your fingers stretched out as you peeked from under it, lips pressed into a flat line. You were in the royal garden after persistent invitation from the Crown Prince himself. Speaking of, said Crown Prince had his limbs sprawled out beneath you, the edges of his hands slightly playing with the frills of your dress as he took his afternoon nap, a youthful smile on his face.

“Your Highness,” you huffed out, “What are we doing here? No one is looking. There is no need for us to continue our act.”

“I know,” he cheered a little too brightly for someone that looked to be deep in dreamland, “I just wanted to hang out with you without worrying about others. Not that I ever did, but it’s nice to be alone with you every once in a while. The prying eyes can get a bit too much.”

You hummed at the thought; he did have a point. This arrangement turned out to be a lot smoother than expected. The Crown Prince wasn’t lying about his intentions and not once had he laid a hand on you – without your permission, anyway – and he turned out to be…a lot more docile and easy going than what you originally thought of him. Not that you had much thoughts to begin with anyway, the Prince was a celebrity and therefore not someone that concerned you.

In your mind, he was merely your leader, more often than a not a name spoken between hushed whispers and dreamy moans.

This side of him was different, and all the time you’d spent him with was filled with nothing but ridiculed stares and taunts. The Crown Prince was a hilarious man who never feared trying out new things, always happy and eager to try exotic foods with you in the night markets or joining you in your spontaneous dancing during midnight ‘dates.’

He was the closest you could consider as a friend, and you relaxed against him, laying down on the flowery fields right next to him as you sighed in content. “I will miss this, Your Highness.”

“Miss what?”

“You and I – hanging out,” you mumbled a little dreamily, “I have a strong feeling things will finally get better for me. When I get scouted by a better company, I won’t be able to hang out with you anymore,” Silence befell the both upon you, the rustling of the wind against the flowers sounding like a far off memory. Soon, it would be. “I will miss this.”

“You could always call me. Or who knows, maybe I’d even drop by to watch your performances sometime.”

You snapped your eyes open, chuckling when the Prince had now sat up halfway, his regal face cradled in his hands while his elbow laid flat under him. He blinked innocently at you, and that’s when you realized – he was serious. That had you bursting into laughter, hands clutched at your stomach. “Please, you? You do not even enjoy ballerina!”

“I enjoy watching you,” he confessed in a heartbeat, his gaze falling from your crinkled eyes and all the way down to the silhouette of your body. “There’s something about the way you move that’s just so graceful and...phenomenal.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his heated gaze, the mere trails of his sight enough to warm your entire skin despite the cool wind. This was the Prince concerned though, and you had to guard your heart, eyes narrowed playfully at him while you desperately ignored the need to rub your thighs together.

“Are you flirting with me, Your Highness?”

The Prince snorted, “Flirt with you? My pretend girlfriend?” he clutched a hand at his chest as if the assumption offended him, “What makes you come to that conclusion?”

You chucked your handkerchief at him, still a little in disbelief that you were greeted by his laughter when it hit him right in the face.

You would miss this indeed.

Your gaze softened as you sat up, thighs pressed to your chest as you directed your gaze up in the sky. Prince Satoru may not always be around when the time came, but at least you still had the sky to remind you of this brazen and unexpected friendship that helped you grow.

“Thank you, though,” you squished your cheeks onto your knees, a lilted smile plastered on your face. “Dancing has always been a passion of mine. I can’t ever imagine a time of my life where I wasn’t moving with music. It almost feels as if I was destined with it; it speaks to me and deeper than the recesses of my bones, guides me until I’m one and entangled with it,” you ended with a dreamy sigh, turning your head to the side to look His Highness in the eye, stilling for a moment when you’re met with his solemn gaze.

Your throat parched dry. “Have you ever fallen in love with something like that before?”

“I don’t think so,” one of his shoulders lifted up in a lame shrug, voice turning deep and husky as he asked, “How do you know when you lack something or not?”

“If it comes to love...” you tapped your chin with a finger, “I think a life lived without one would feel quite empty. Hollow, I would say, and the skies would just be a plain blue instead of a calming yet mesmerizing one,” the courage that soared within you was an unexpected one, but it was enough to let you look him in the eye, form vulnerable and words slipping past your lips before you could control them. “If I were incapable of love, I’d say your eyes are nothing but gleams of sapphire.”

“And if you were capable of it? What would my eyes be?”

“Like cerulean galaxies crashing against one another,” you whispered, “Stardust sprinkled and heavens birthed out of passion and the desire to be something more. You’d be azure and brazen instead of crestfallen; the magnificence of the universe’s creation attesting to itself that it is wholly capable of designing divine beings.”

“Hmm,” he tipped his head to the side as he mulled over your words. His jacket was discarded somewhere along the grass, top three buttons of his shirt left opened and hair rustling with the wind. Beautiful, the image etched into your skin. “Are you sure you are a dancer and not a poet?”

“People say all sorts of beautiful things when they’re in love.”

The Prince straightened up, lips pursed. For a moment, you grew fearful, your heart frantically thumping in your chest as you thought, this is it – this is when he pushes you away. He does nothing of this as he scoots closer to you, using his rough thumb to tilt your chin until you were looking up at him, wide eyes sparkling – the sight of you vulnerable like this making the Crown Prince lick his lips.

“If you were in love,” he began, voice barely above a whisper, “What would be the most beautiful thing those lips of yours would utter?” You shivered as his thumb moved up to graze at your bottom lip, almost prompting it to jut out, to which you happily complied with a shaky breath. “What would you say then?”

“Your name.”

The Prince smiled to himself at your hearty answer. To hide both of your nervous chuckles, the Prince took it upon himself to ease both your worries as he kissed you, nothing but the warmth and fluttering of butterflies rampaging in your stomach mixing at his sweet taste.

Beautiful, you hummed into his mouth. You could fall for as long as you wanted, but would the Prince ever fall from grace as he moaned into your mouth, tugging you until you were situated in his lap, arms wrapped tight enough around you in refusal to let you go? Maybe, your mind sighed, hands tugging at his hair when the Prince kissed you fervently, murmuring one word that made you melt right then and there.

Beautiful, he finds you.

Both your loud laughter echoed in his training grounds, the horses’ hooves padding against the firm earth. “Not fast enough, my Lady,” he taunts, his smile bright and wide as he sat perched atop his white stallion. “How would you catch my heart if you cannot ride faster?”

“I will catch up to you, just wait and see! Not everyone grew up riding horses, you know?”

“I bet a fine coin you do ride well, though, my Lady,” he remarked with a wink, his statement enough to tap the sides of your feet harder against your horse to catch after him.

“Your Highness!”

As you two chased around each other the wide field, carefree laughter and clothes swaying against the wind, skin warm from the flush of the sun, the Crown Prince’s servants stood at the side.

A particular woman – the servant that had been loyal long before the Prince was born – remained under a parasol, her wrinkled face tight with a frown.

“How nauseating,” she scrunched her nose, arms crossed on her chest. “To think I dedicated my life into raising the little prince to be a fine king someday, and his future would be tainted by a lowly performer who cannot even make a name for herself,” turning to one of the young boy servants, she narrowed her eyes at you. “Where does she work again? Is she of name?”

“She is an orphan, Madam, taken in at a young age in a dance school before she had to pay the fees herself, if the rumors are correct. I heard that she and His Highness met when she was kicked out by her own ballet master due to her stealing the original Black Swan spot for this season’s show.”

His old nanny’s face grew more gruesome. “Wasn’t the Black Swan supposed to be one of the Earl’s daughters?”

“Yes. Rumours had it that His Highness’ new plaything seized the spot to prove herself. Look at how that plan backfired.”

“How repulsive,” she spat out, venom laced in her tongue.

The roles had reversed, the Crown Prince insistent in catching you this time around, and you rode after him with panicked laughter, hands clutched tight on the reins. Although you’d only swished past the small group of servants that always seemed to be around, you’d heard enough.

“We must protect His Highness at all costs before this wretched woman rips his future away from him. The fate of the kingdom lies on his shoulders; we cannot afford him making mistakes.”

“Indeed, Madam.”

You stopped in your tracks until the horse slowed down with confused huffs, your Prince following behind you not long afterwards. Looking back at him again, you were no longer able to smile at him genuinely, not when discomfort, and most of all shame, had to be forced down deep into your system. Beautiful, you resigned, he was too beautiful.

His servants were right. Maybe you really were ruining everything for him. His reputation was frowned upon to begin with for his less than infamous sexual endeavors, that he was more often sighted in casinos and bars instead of his study room.

The barrack guards had grown tired and weary of trying to stop the Crown Prince from leaving the royal grounds. No matter what they did, he always found a way to escape.

The only difference this time around was that their Prince no longer frequented such sinful places and met with women of all titles and backgrounds. No, this time, the Prince leapt from the tall walls that had never been much of a challenge considering his tall frame, not bothering to get a car or even a horse as he dashed straight to your studio.

Sweat dripped down from your face as you slammed a fist on the floor, tears about to erupt. You couldn’t complete this routine that you were so close into perfecting.

Your mind was simply just in a mess.

There was a conflicting war inside you – one with your heart that yearned to stay longer in His Highness’ presence out of mere selfishness, and one with your mind that told you it was dishnoroubale to taint his name like this. The last thing you wanted was to destroy and push both of you even further into falling from grace; both reputations and name already tarnished.

You’d truly be heartless if you kept going on.

But that didn’t change the fact that you were feeling comfortable with him, having found home in the Crown Prince’s warm arms and spontaneous kisses of all places.

Was it absurd? Undoubtedly so.

Could it be helped? You certainly could try.

And you’d been doing a great job so far; quite a daunting task you patted yourself in the back for. Avoiding the Prince when he’d made it clear he also enjoyed your company proved a lot harder than reaching your dreams, but you pushed through, locking yourself in the unused studio and training day and night.

It wasn’t working well – not on your part, anyway. You’d been here for hours, your clothes uncomfortably sticking to your skin and your water bottles were all emptied.

You’d never felt this tired.

You fell on your knees, palms flat on the floor and sweat salty as it trailed down to your lips. With a groan, you untied your shoes off and stared at the bruised and blued toes, a witness to the countless years of hard work. Your lip quivered as you massaged the sore muscles, tears about to spill as you remembered the Prince.

Beautiful, he was, flawless and porcelain in each movement and breath.

But you? You were battered, scarred, broken and bruised – why would he want you of all people? It was clear he’s had multiple lovers before you. No, scratch that, you were never a lover to begin with. It was all a sham, an agreement formed out of lame survival. There was no beauty in a lie.

The music playing from your stereo kept repeating on loop, this time the tune no longer unrecognizable as your soft cries echoed around the studio. You weren’t beautiful – not enough for him, at least – everyone made that very clear to you.

Just as you wiped your tears away at the back of your hand, standing up to continue another set as you refused to come back home without completing one perfect routine, the doors slammed open. Heavy breathing entered afterwards and you scowled – you worked tooth and bone to claim this place as yours, who dared enter? “This studio is private—” your words fell dry on your skin when a tuft of white hair trudged over to you, his usual placid face replaced with a firm sneer. “Y-Your Highness?”

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

His voice was nothing but demanding, the authority behind them only natural and befitting for someone like him. Each step he took forwards equated to a step backward until your back hit the mirrors, eyes wide as you gazed up at him.

Your voice came out weak. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t act like I’m stupid,” he pointed a finger at you, then scoffed, hands running through the soft locks of his air while he shook his head. You stood there grasping at your tights; having never seen the Prince lose his composure before. “I know you’ve been avoiding me. Every time I try to contact you, you never respond. When I ask your friends where you’ve been, they all tell me you’re busy practicing.”

Somehow, you managed to find your voice again, tone heavy and biting. “I am busy practicing, do you not see that?”

“It’s not the only thing you’re occupied with. Clearly, you are quite determined to stay away from me too,” he bellowed, his loud voice bouncing back from the emptiness of the room. The booming sound must’ve snapped him back to consciousness because Prince Satoru sighed, stepping closer until his warm hand cupped your cheek, starry blue eyes filled with worry and anguish. Had you caused this?

Beautiful, you frowned, that even in his demise he managed to look like fine art. “Why are you avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?” he softened, breath warm on your lips. “If yes, then tell me and I’ll do everything it takes to make up for it.”

You fisted his shirt; cheek faced his way because you couldn’t look him in the eye right now. There was no way you’d let him see you cry.

“I don’t understand you, Your Highness,” you murmured, “You’re about to be King – why do you bother yourself with someone like me? I’m nothing compared to you, and I detest being compared to you for I am more than worthy despite not being born of a high ranking like yours.”

Prince Satoru froze. “Is this what this is about? My title bothers you?”

“We should stop whatever we’re doing,” was all you said, pushing him away as gently as you could, ignoring the gnawing pain that grew inside of you when your palms landed on his chest. “It is lowly of me to take advantage of the Crown Prince’s kindness anyway. My success should be paved out of my own hard work and not because of my lame connections to the Crown Prince.”

“Lame connections? Is that all I am to you?”

“You are my Crown Prince, Your Highness,” you reminded him of the stark difference firmly, “You mean a lot to your people, but I do not mean anything to you. I am just another nameless performer lost in the crowd of a thousand other girls who wish to reach their dreams, even if such a star is far beyond our reach,” Tears had now fallen until they formed into crystals on your cheeks, and he blinked back, unsure of what to do. “Could you ever understand what that feels like? To yearn for something you know you could never have but hope for anyway?”

“It would be a lie if I said I did,” he admitted quietly, “But I think I’m beginning to understand. It would make sense to me now – if you keep pushing me away, that is.”

You shook your head begrudgingly. “Your Highness...we shouldn’t.”

“And why not? Who said we couldn’t?”

You don’t stop him this time when he stepped closer once more, trapping you between his arms until you clutched desperately at his shirt, his erratic heartbeat pulsing under your touch. “It’s just you and I – neither a prince nor a performer – simply man and woman who crave each other’s touch. What could be so wrong into giving into one’s desires?” you gasped when his lips fell at the juncture of your neck, your head immediately tilting to the side as you allowed him to ravage you. “You still haven’t given me the chance to let you know what I feel,” he cradled your jaw, caressing your skin as he breathed you’re your ear, voice low and sultry, begging even, “Would you really deny me the pleasure of showing you how beautiful you are to me right now?”

“Satoru,” you keened at his teeth tugging at your skin, fists clenched on shirt. “Touch me.”

“That’s all I ever wanted to do, darling.”

Satoru swept down to capture your lips in his, his grip firm on the swell of your ass he kept you close to him, pressed hip to hip and his hardened front grazing your core through the tights. He pulled a moan from you as he flipped your body over, lips finding home in your neck while his large hand cupped your breast, the other trailing down to finger at your clothed, damp pussy.

In this angle, you could see the despondent way you easily spread your legs for him, your pants like music to ears.

“Do you still not believe me when I say you are worth more than a pound of gold? Look at you – your dripping cunt shines harder than the diamonds I keep in my room,” the both of you groaned when he pushed a finger through your hole, your tights stretching and sucked in by your walls enough to outline the arousal that seeped through. “Maybe I should keep you instead, hmm, don’t you think? You’d be a far grander treasure than all those riches.”

“I am a woman,” you tugged at his hair, panting heavily as he kept fingering into you, his thumb grazing at the sensitive bundle of nerves that swelled under your tight clothes. “I am not to be reduced to a possession you acquire.”

“No, of course not. Nothing could ever replace you in this world,” he growled, harsh in his movements as he tore your clothes with minimal effort.

You yelped when your precious tights had been ripped to the sides, a hole revealing your core and your breasts barely covered with the flimsy fabric. Satoru shuffled his pants down before placing you right on his cock, swallowing your moans with each inch of his length that slid inside you.

Hands dug painfully into his hair, Satoru hissed at the pain, grinning to himself at how wet you were through just light touches and a sloppy kiss. You’ve been good for him, though, you were always good for him that he had to reward you, show you how beautiful you were, and he spread his legs apart, relishing in the sight of you being fucked onto his cock.

“Nothing feels better than your tight pussy, huh? Take a good look at yourself, you’re so fucking precious, taking me so well,” you could only moan in response, unable to take your eyes off the way his length disappeared inside you, a shiver chilling your spine when he grasped at your breasts, nipples tweaked between his fingers. “Nothing, nothing, nothing could compare to this. You feel like heaven, taste like bliss and forgiveness,” he licked at the salty sweat that drowned your body, one of his hands now rolling your clit between his fingers. You screamed, bouncing yourself harder on him with your nails dug deep into his thighs. “You will be the redemption of my darkened soul, are you not?”

“Maybe I will be,” you cried out, head lolled onto his shoulder.

Satoru hummed, his eyes dark and coated with lust when your breasts bounced in front of the mirror. Thanks to years of dancing, you barely felt a stretch when Satoru suddenly lifted your legs up until your thighs were embarrassingly squished against your chest. You knew why he did this; it wasn’t that hard to understand why when he narrowed his focus on the way your juices slipped down his cock, the sounds of your pussy squelching drowning out the operatic music.

Satoru kissed your cheeks to wipe your previous tears away, his hands nothing but grabby and possessive as he gripped the flesh of your thigh. “You already are, sweet thing.”

Pleasure had completely taken over you at this point, that familiar heat building up in your stomach until it snapped into two. Pupils blown wide open, you gasped as you came all over him, your cum creaming down onto his cock until it lined with a thick ring of cum.

It was filthy to say the least, and your body burned at the thought that you were disrespecting him, defiling him with the mess you’ve made. But the Prince only fucked into you harder, his teeth grazing at your already abused skin with relentless and merciless thrusts. He wasn’t lying when he said he’d show you how beautiful he found you, going hell and beyond because you felt nothing but worshipped when he kissed you feverishly, his moans romantic as he came. “S-Satoru!”

“That’s right,” he slipped a finger, the stretch adding a slight tinge of pain that had your hips rutting out in sensitivity, your hole clenching around his everything. “Cum for me. Come on, I know you can do it for me. You’re so good, sweetheart, come for me.”

You were mindlessly babbling his name as both of you came down from your highs. Satoru doesn’t stop once from running hands everywhere, gripping your hips, flicking your nipples, rubbing your clit, and running a finger down your slit to wipe your juices everywhere. It had become too much that you had to push his hand away, legs locking around his arms that refused to stop cupping your pussy.

“Do you see how beautiful you are?” he cooed, shameless and teasing when he brought his hands up to your face, fingers stretched to show the webbing of your arousal between them. “We made such a mess,” he chuckled, his kisses a lot softer now on your neck.

Beautiful, you whimpered internally as you fluttered around nothing.

Satoru must’ve grown an addiction to kissing your lips for he dived in one last time, murmuring the word you always tied him with until they felt printed, tattooed, on your skin. You closed your eyes and allowed yourself to bask in this, your kisses slow and sensual as you both enjoyed this serene moment.

He came to this studio to prove you something.

He left the studio with a swelling heart, cheeks resting on your breast as he wrapped his arms around you in the comfort of your worn-out mattress as he asked, can I stay here longer with you?

The cheers and applause directed your way were deafening, the spotlight blinding as you bowed. You gasped for air, every muscle in your body screaming both with delight and exhaustion.

You could barely fathom the crowd hidden in darkness before you, the sight like a black sea, but instead of feeling like you were drowning, you don’t think you’d ever been able to breathe this well before. The smile on your face was bright – brighter than the star you’ve become and bigger than the galaxy and universe you’ve made for yourself – and you waved your arm gracefully, toes pointed outwards while the roses and flowers thrown your way came flooding like a waterfall.

You’d made it.

And through the crowd, at the back where someone the likes of him wasn’t supposed to be, His Majesty’s white hair stuck out like a sore thumb. His draperies were replaced with finer ornaments of gold embroidery, those large hands that had grown accustomed to holding yours and marking handprints on your delicate skin covered with gloves as he applauded, following the crowd from where they all stood.

Your smile directed him was nothing less of a beam, the stars he’d hung for you reflecting back in your eyes. Tears blurred the vision of him for a moment until you saw him again – crystal clear – his expression both proud and longing.

The memory of you and him had been a beautiful one, but it was distant and with each passing day, it blurred until it became nothing like swirls of I love you’s and good luck’s whispered onto one another’s skin. Your heart still soared and broke each time at the sight of him, the majestic Queen hanging off the arm that was locked with yours just years ago a painful reminder that there would always be an invisible divide between you and the Prince you’d fallen in love with.

There was no regret, however, in where things had led. You knew he loved his kind wife as much as he loved you, and he knew you loved him as much as you loved your career, and things were simply just…meant to be this way, you concluded.

It was never supposed to be a great love story that told of breaking traditions. Not all stories were meant to go against the odds; some were told to show that people could be capable of change without having to change anything. You were thankful, still so extremely grateful you met your beloved Prince even as he left the theatre before people crowded around him, leaving you to your devices until you retired back into the changing room, a set of rare flowers only a certain person could afford.

Beautiful, you cried as you picked up the card, his once messy scrawls improved into a neater cursive befitting for the new King.

And so it was that you parted ways, with him leading his country into further prosperity while you moved away and stole people’s hearts with each phenomenal show, one after the other.

Your summer rendezvous with the Prince was not meant to be a love story that went against all odds; you were there to save each other from reaching damnation, loving one another as passionately as your souls were able to until you picked each other back up.

Once the other stood firm, tall, and ready to take on the world with their bare hands, you pushed one another in your respective directions.

Beautiful, you smiled as you clutched at his present close to your heart where he’d built a garden out of itself, that we’d saved each other from falling from grace.

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zodiakuroo · 4 years ago

Text

Un(holy) Trinity

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader x Shigaraki

Content: 18+ dubcon/noncon, threesome, manhandling, rough sex, corruption, degradation, humiliation, breathplay, stepcest, breeding, blasphemy and sacrilege, elements of mindbreak and god complex (?)

Word count: 4.1k

Notes: my first threesome and idk how to feel about it but here it is! If it’s bad I can blame it on the fact that I just had my wisdom teeth extracted and am currently in a world of pain :) also i’m on bedrest and incredibly bored so if anyone has requests or thirsts or just wants to chat... yeah

also if this banner is shit i’m sorry i rushed and made it on my phone cause i just rly wanted to to post

This is part 2 to my other fic Love Thy Brother which you can read here

Now the serpent was more cunning than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made. And he said to the woman, “Has God indeed said, ‘You shall not eat of every tree of the garden’?” - Genesis 3:1

Twelve days.

Twelve days since you lost your virginity.

Twelve days since you lost your virginity to your step-brother, no less.

The night that it happened, you lay awake in your bed dreading the aftermath of the horrific incident. How could you face him again? How could you face your family? How could you face God?

You were too cowardly to face the rest of your household. The Todoroki family welcomed you into their home only for you betray them by sleeping with Touya. Ever since you were little, your mother would say she had a sort of sixth sense that meant God would always tell her when you’d been up to mischief. It sounds silly but there was no explanation for how she would always catch out in lie or know things that you never told her. You feared she would take one look at you and know the sin you committed. And so you chose to make yourself scarce, taking extra shifts at work and choosing to study at the campus library rather than at home. Your siblings seemed to notice how busy you suddenly were, often remarking how they missed you around the house. That just made you feel more ashamed.

As for God, you felt like you needed to do whatever necessary to prove your faith. You wanted Him to know the extent of your shame and remorse. You were weak in spirit, making you an easy target for someone as devious as Touya. You prayed and begged for forgiveness until your knees hurt but no matter what you did, the guilt was inescapable. You realized it was because, irrespective of the regret and remorse you felt, you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed what happened. You liked the way Dabi made you feel and you hated yourself for it. But no matter how much you liked it, something like that could never happen again. As penance, you banned yourself from bringing your hands anywhere near your groin. After all that temptation is what brought you to this point in the first place. But the thread of your self-control is thin and withered so at night when you’re certain everyone is asleep, you’re humping your pillow like an animal and biting down on your lip trying to keep from moaning his name. At least you weren’t touching right?

Dabi, by some God-given miracle, made himself scarce as well. It wasn’t uncommon for the noirette to disappear for days at a time doing heaven knows what only to arrive back at home like nothing happened; so no one really questioned his absence. Perhaps he felt the same way you did and was avoiding facing you and the other Todorokis.

Yeah right.

Shame? Todoroki Touya doesn’t know the meaning of the word.

In any case, you had become used to a Dabi-less house and so lulled into a false sense of safety, slowly but surely reverting back to normal. That’s why as you make your way downstairs, prepared to go to your church, the sound of gunfire and explosions from the living room doesn’t alarm you. Probably Natsuo or Shouto playing one of their video games, you thought. But when you get to the bottom of the stairs you’re met with unmistakable dark locks. Not just him. The back of another person’s head, one with pale blue, shoulder length hair. Before you can stop yourself, you let out a gasp. Neither of them react, seemingly too focused on their game. You don’t waste any time feeling relieved, choosing instead to make a silent escape.

You could only dream of being so lucky.

“Oi!” Your step-brother calls without turning around. He hasn’t seen you, you think. If you move quickly you can still get out of this. “I know you heard me, brat. Get over here before I drag you over here.” He still doesn’t bother to turn around but the sharpness in his tone lets you know that you’d be smart to listen. You take a second to steel your nerves and make your way over to the couch, trying your best to look as intimidating as possible. You scowl at both men but they are so engrossed in their video game, they don’t even acknowledge that you’re standing right there. “Aren’t you gonna say hi? We have company.”

We?

The company in question is Shigaraki Tomura. He’s been to the house before although he’s never even so much as glanced in your direction, too busy with his phone or playing games with Dabi. Despite your hard expression you can only manage a meek “Hello Shigaraki.”

He responds by finally looking at you, with a sleazy grin, a pair of crimson eyes, surrounded by creases meet your own. “Sup.”

Beer cans litter the coffee table, one of them being turned into a makeshift ashtray while both have smouldering cigarettes perched between their lips. “You’re not supposed to smoke in the house.”

“You’re not supposed to smoke in the house.” Dabi mocks you with a nasal voice.

You simply roll your eyes, not interested in continuing this interaction any further. “Whatever. I’m leaving now.” You state with as much firmness as you can muster. You spin on your heels but are kept in place by long, slender digits wrapped around your wrist.

“Where are you off to anyways?” The game paused, both boys now looking at you.

Out of habit, you answer truthfully. “Bible study.”

Shigaraki and Dabi burst into raucous laughter.

You should have lied.

“Nah you’re gonna hang out with me and Shigaraki for a bit.”

“Dabi, I have to leave.”

“You don’t have to do anything except what I tell you and I’m telling you to sit.”

Before you can protest you’re being hauled on to the couch, squeezed between the two of them.

“Nice necklace.” Tomura snorts, hand reaching out to grab at your crucifix but you swat it away. His gaze is unnerving. It makes you wonder if- no. He promised he wouldn’t.

Just like that, their game is resumed, as if you were never there. A few rounds pass, no words exchanged between either of them, only curses muttered under their breath. “Dabi, can I please go. I’m bored.”

Wrong choice of words.

“You hear that Tomura? The princess is bored.” His fingers are still moving rapidly over his controller.

“Really now? Come on then Todoroki, let’s show her a good time. I’ve seen how she likes to have fun.”

His comment on your necklace suddenly makes sense, but you still can’t believe it. “You didn’t…” you whip your head back to look at Dabi.

”Sorry doll, you made your Nii-san so proud, I just had to show you off.” Dabi smiles shamelessly, lighting himself another cigarette.

“You’re fucking sick Touya.” Tomura says, however his tone is not one of disgust but rather of admiration.

“You promised...” Your voice breaks. You’re humiliated beyond belief.

Both of them laugh at you again, discarding their controllers. “Told you, it’s adorable how stupid she is.” Dabi remarks to his friend, as if you’re not sitting right next to them.

You try to force your way off the couch but get pulled into Dabi’s lap, one of his arms hooking around both of yours, securing them behind your back. You squirm in his arms but he stills you with a hard slap on your inner thigh. “Be good okay? Don’t embarrass me.” He nuzzles into your neck.

Shigaraki flips up your dress exposing your white lace panties. He runs his thumb up and down your clothed slit, he fabric slowly becoming even more transparent. One severe jerk to the top of your dress and the straps are torn clean off, revealing the matching bra. “Yo, Touya. I thought she was a good girl.”

Dabi peers over your shoulder to get look. “Who’s all this for babe? You screwing the preacher or something? Or were you hoping I’d do something like this?” He tugs down your bra until your breasts are spilling over the top of it.

“Dabi…” Your choke on your plea when he sinks his teeth into your neck. He bites down so hard you’re positive he’s left a mark.

“Who?”

“T-Touya-nii.” You whimper.

“Better.”

Your destroyed dress is discarded somewhere across the room and you find yourself on your hands and knees with Shigaraki kneeling on the couch in front of you and Dabi behind you.

“Go easy on her alright Tomura. It’s her first time sucking cock.” He chuckles.

Your eyes go wide. “Wait...” you mewl but neither pay you any mind.

“And you.” Dabi yanks a fistful of your hair. “No teeth. No puke. Or I’ll let my boy ream your little ass as punishment.”

“Yeah. What he said.” Shigaraki mutters, pulling his semi out of his sweatpants, rubbing his tip against your lips. His is not as scary as your step-brother’s but him staring down at you like this, makes him seem every bit as intimidating.

Pre-cum dribbles from the swollen tip. You’re not entirely sure you want that in your mouth but you’re also not sure if you have a choice so you open up hesitantly.

Dabi’s right. It is your first time doing something like this. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do but as it turns out you don’t have to do much, not with the way Shigaraki starts thrusting his quickly hardening member into your mouth.

“Move your tongue slut.” The man in front of you grunts. You do your best despite the heavy intrusion to obey his command, moving from side to side, swirling around the head when he pulls out of your mouth. He looks down at you with cruel vermillion eyes, panting as he strokes himself in front of you, spreading your saliva across his shaft before sliding deep into your mouth again.

Behind you, Dabi spreads apart your cheeks, squeezing the flesh in his calloused hands. “Remember what I said. Be good and I’ll give you a reward.” He pulls your panties to the side and lets out a whistle at the sight of your dripping slit. “She’s enjoying it. Make her take it deeper.”

You can’t possibly fathom how much deeper he can go when his head is already nudging at your tonsils. You try to swallow the saliva building up in your mouth, making your cheeks hollow out around Shigaraki’s shaft. Seems like that was the right thing to do as his hand flies to the back of your head. “Shit. Shit. So good.”

Dabi’s breath wafts over your pussy. He spreads your lips apart and you feel his hot tongue lick up the juices leaking from your hole. You squeal around Tomura’s dick. You want to pull off but his spindly fingers hold your head in place.

“Told you angel. Good little sisters get rewards.” With that he takes your clit between his lips and suckles on it gently while one of his fingers circles your entrance. Knuckle by knuckle he slides into you, making you keen. You arch your back trying to shift your hips backwards against his hand, silently urging him to find that special spot he showed you last time. He establishes a loose rhythm. Hot wet muscle and cold metal of his piercing circles the sensitive bundle of nerves, before applying suction while his fingers work you open.

The sensation is overwhelming, a form of heavenly torture and your thighs quiver barely able to hold you up while you use your last bit of mental strength to focus on suppressing your gags. That mental strength all but evaporates when the digits inside you graze that rough patch embedded in your walls. It’s so pleasurable your reflex is to run from his fingers. Luckily for Shigaraki, that means you move forward, taking him further into your mouth.

“This where you want me? This your spot, angel?” Dabi taunts you. Shigaraki holds you in place while two of your step-brother’s fingers drill your cunt, hitting that spot over and over again. Garbled moans and cries leave your mouth and reverberate around Tomura’s cock, proving to be too much for him ultimately.

“Shit Stop!” Don’t wanna come yet.” He pulls out your mouth so that a string of your drool drips down to your breasts.

“God! Touya-nii!” You sputter out.

“Still with the God shit?” He uses your hair to force you to look at him, neck twisted at an awkward, uncomfortable angle. “God ever make you feel this good?” His fingers thrust into you harder. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire.

“Ngghh-N-no –oh! Oh!” is your incoherent answer.

Dabi forces you back down, shoving you face first into the cushions. “See? Fuck him. Give up on god. Give up on everyone except your big brother cause no one else can make you feel this good.”

You’re so pathetic. The way you’re rocking yourself in unison with the motions of his hands. The way your tongue hangs out of your mouth, impeding any sort of intelligible verbal response. The way you’re mindlessly nodding along to whatever filth is coming out of Dabi’s mouth.

“C’mon Touya. Turn her around. Wanna try out that sweet pussy you’ve been bragging about.” You’re reminded that you aren’t alone. No, your brother’s best friend is right there to witness exactly how pathetic you are.

“Yeah in a minute. I’m still having my fun.” Dabi answers, face pressed against your mons before working you with his mouth once again.

“Man! Come on!” Tomura whines.

“I said in a minute. Not my fault you can’t last.”

It’s amazing how they can bicker like this right now, as if you aren’t on your hands and knees for them, gummy walls still pulsing around his fingers. However, it’s not long before Dabi’s focus is back on you taking you to the brink of orgasm. He slows his fingers, keeping you balanced on that razor thin edge. “Should I make you cum angel?” His voice is dripping with fake concern. “Dunno… what’s in it for me?”

“Anything! Touya-nii please!”

“Anything? You gonna obey me? Do whatever I say like a good little angel? You gonna worship me?” You can’t tell if he’s being serious or if he’s mocking you.

Probably the latter. And you deserve it too.

Your faith was the thing you deemed more important than anything and anyone else but Dabi, all too easily, convinced you to disregard that. Made you lose all sense and give into lust by showing you mindblowing pleasure, only magnified by your awareness of how deeply sinful this all was. That’s the extent of the power he has over you. The story of Adam and Eve is one you know forwards and backwards and yet you were so easily tempted forbidden fruit and left completely corrupted. Yeah, he’s definitely mocking you.

“Any- fuck- anything” You’re wiggling your ass, goading Dabi into finishing you off

“Cum in my mouth. Angel, give it to me” That’s the final straw. You explode around his fingers. Despite your walls, clamping around him, he manages to piston into you, hitting that squishy spot with astounding accuracy. His unyielding stimulation makes it feel as though the high won’t end. You’re not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Eventually, it does end though, his fingers drag out against the pull of your swollen pussy. He licks you clean making sure he gets every last drop of your cum, both inside and out, on his tongue. The ball of his piercing catches onto your rim making you yelp. He soothes the sting with gentle laps of his tongue.

“Tastes so sweet angel. So sweet knowing I’m the only one to ever fuck this pretty pussy.” He snickers before adding “So far.”

“Yeah, can I fuck her now?” Tomura was turned on before but seeing the way you fell apart at the hands of your brother? His minimal patience has run out. All he can think of now is being inside you.

“You heard him babe. Turn around.” He spanks your ass. You try to turn around but thanks to your shaky legs you nearly fall off the couch. Dabi catches you before that happens and he dutifully sets you up on all fours, held up by quivering limbs. You hear heavy breathing from behind you as Shigaraki taps his head against your puffy clit while you twitch in place.

“She wants this so bad. Had no idea your Christian little sister was such a whore.” Shigaraki mutters. He holds you still as he buries himself in you, breathing becoming more erratic with every inch until his hip bones are digging into your soft flesh. He’s so deep. You feel so full. You squeeze shut your eyelids, savouring the stretch.

Calloused fingers press into your jaw, making your eyes shoot open. “Pretty angel, did you forget about me?” Dabi looms over you, making a show of spitting in his palm and using it to stroke himself. He slips his thumb into your mouth, pad pressing down on the plush pillow of your tongue. “Gonna stuff you nice ‘n full angel.” All you can do is blink up at him with teary eyes, pupils blown wide with desire.

Shigaraki begins thrusting into you, hips moving at a brutal pace. Dabi isn’t far behind him, replacing his thumb with his cock and you don’t waste time waiting for him to tell you what to do. You close your lips around his shaft, engulfing him in the wet heat of your mouth.

Unlike his friend, Dabi starts off slow. His piercings drag across your tongue and you taste metal and the salt of his pre-cum. It takes some time for you to get used to taking him in your mouth, the jewellery an added obstacle.

You feel so full.

Shigaraki is bottoming out with every thrust, it’s so lewd the way it makes you squelch around him. Dabi’s shaft is rubbing your throat raw and still, you make an effort to take him deeper. He keeps one hand on the back of your head while he fucks you mouth.

He looks so ethereal, so euphoric, letting out little moans and whispered expletives. The sounds he makes are divine, so heavily contrasted by everything you know about him. It leaves you star struck. He recognizes the adoration in your eyes and responds in kind with a cocky smirk. He remembers how you looked at him when you first met. Disdain and judgment. Now you look at him like he’s your only salvation.

It’s sad actually. How you’re so desperate for someone to tell you how to live. And what a sweet, adoring little follower you are. Wasted on religion if you ask him. So soft and pliant, perfect for your big brother to mould and corrupt into his personal fuckangel.

“Angel, Nii-san’s gonna fill you up. And you’re gonna take it yeah?”

Your whole life you aspired to this holy standard of perfection in the hopes of escaping eternal damnation. But you’re beyond absolution now.

“All of it down your throat.”

It’s okay though.

If heaven doesn’t feel like this, you’re not sure it’s worth all the effort to get there.

He holds your necklace behind you like a leash, twisting it around his fingers. Between the way he’s basically strangling you and the way your swallowing muscles contract around his cock means that you’re not getting much air into your lungs. Your head is spinning, from being both oxygen deprived and cock drunk.

“Your God doesn’t want you anymore.” The clasp snaps and he dangles the charm in front of your face. The mould of Christ nailed to the cross taunts you. What was once a symbol of divine love and God’s boundless forgiveness and sacrifice is just a reminder of how far you’ve fallen into depravity, creaming around Shigaraki’s cock as he ruins your cunt while your Nii-san claims your throat “You’re filthy.” Touya sneers at you as he holds himself in your throat, watching you cry and choke around him. “Dirty fuckin angel.” He grunts as he floods your mouth with the taste of his cum. It’s not exactly pleasant but you try to swallow it all down. There’s just so much. That means he’s pleased with you right? You want him to be pleased. Good girls get rewards he said

“It’s okay.” He muses as he pulls out of your mouth. “You have me. I’m better than God and I Iove you when you’re nasty like this.” He empathizes his point by dragging his wet, softening cock across your face. “Nii-sans perfect little angel.”

It’s so pitiful how the small praise makes your heart bloom and makes your hole flutter.

You’re coughing up Touya’s cum while your body shakes with Shigaraki’s thrusts.

“What about me hm? I’m fucking you. What? You don’t like it?” Tomura’s going harder now, determined to get his fair share of your attention.

“Shig-Shigaraki – shit. Slow down!”

You’re ignored by both of them once again. If anything, Shigaraki starts fucking you harder

.”Yo’ dustpot. You better pull out. That hole still belongs to me.”

The warning falls on deaf ears, Tomura is too far gone. “So warm, she’s squeezin’ me. Fuck. Fuck.’’ No thoughts, just your tight cunt.

“Gonna do whatever I tell you?” Dabi’s talking to you now, cerulean eyes boring into yours.

You nod still staring at him with absolute devotion.

“Touya-nii’s will be done? Huh? Has a nice ring to it.”

When you don’t respond he grabs you by your cheeks forming an open mouthed pout. “Say it.”

“Touya-nii’shhh will be done.” The words come out distorted but he’s satisfied

“Oh yeah? Then be good angel slut and come on his cock for me.”

You’re pushed over the edge, coming for the second time. Your walls clamp down around him as you sob out both their names in the form of incoherent babbling. It hits you as hard as the first one. You’re so caught up in your high you barely register the vice grip on your hips, the frantic humping against your ass. “Tight. Fuckin tight! Gotta breed! Breed this fucking hole.”

His hot, sticky cum floods your walls with, your throbbing cunt milking him for everything he’s got. He ruts against you a couple more times before removing himself completely.

You hear the familiar click of a camera. He’s sorry (not really) but the sight of your fucked out hole leaking globs of your cream and his cum was too hot for Shigaraki to not add to his spankbank.

“Thanks for that little sis.” Dabi is resting on the couch, head thrown back smoking a cigarette.

“Yeah thanks sweetness.” Both men, tuck themselves back into their pants

Everything feels so surreal. You cautiously move you hand between your thighs. Feeling your sore abused cunt in an attempt to grasp the reality of what happened.

Wait a minute.

It’s too much, that too sticky to be just your arousal down there. The more you squeeze, contracting your pelvic floor, the more it seems to seep out of you.

“You… You came inside.” You murmur as your eyes well up with tears. Whatever daze you were in seems to be broken by this revelation. Instead it’s replaced by fear of what the consequences of this might be.

Dabi smacks his friend upside the head. “You fuckin’ dumbass. I told you not to.”

Judging by his grin, Shigaraki doesn’t register the insult. He’s too busy basking in the afterglow. “Aw, don’t cry babe. You were gripping me so tight, I thought you wanted it. ‘S’okay, your Nii-san will get you a plan B”

“Fuck no. That’s your jizz inside her.” He scowls, eyes focused on the cum that’s leaking out of your spent pussy.

“C’mon Dabi don’t be like that. I’m broke right now.” Shigaraki pleads.

Touya huffs and rolls his eyes. “You can get yourself a morning after pill right? Tomura will pay you back.”

“Yeah babe. I promise.” He gives you a dopey smile.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s lying. Yeah, you know better now. You just nod as you pull up your panties, cringing at the sticky, wet sensation against your cunt.

“Me and Tomura are heading out. Make sure you clean all this up before anyone gets home.”

“B-but Touya-nii-“ you snivel.

“No buts. Clean up or you won’t be sitting comfy for a week. Are we clear?”

“Yes Touya-nii.” You reply defeated.

“And do it properly. Fuyumi has 3 brothers, she knows what a cumstain looks like and I don’t wanna have to do any explaining to her.”

You only nod, trying (and failing) to blink away tears.

Dabi rewards you with a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Best little sister in the world.” And he leaves you with that.

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