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rotthepoet · 3 months ago

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Come Home (Dark!Mattheo Riddle x Reader)

Notes; DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Dark!Matty has been plaguing my mind and I need an outlet omg. I lowkey rewrote some lore for this, so essentially the battle of Hogwarts takes place but Voldemort's influence still lives on through Mattheo, who basically runs the new Knights of Walpurgis(The slytherin boys). Everyone is evil, all good business.

Warnings; again, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Dark!Mattheo, Murder/death/gore, stalking, kidnapping, mattheo might highkey be ooc but its fine, dubcon(reader REALLY wants him but like.. morals?), oral(F! And M!), mention of fem masturbation, predator/prey dynamic, spitting, degradation, lowkey breeding kink?, piv, lowkey porn with plot, Stockholm syndrome if you squint, at least he kinda gets a redemption arc

This one goes out to my beautiful @nottswitch i hope dark!mattheo comes to life and fucks us both <3

Word count; 6.3k

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤

The bitter breeze in the frigid air pricks through my thin shirt as the diner door swings open and shut again as a customer disappears into the icky black of our winter night. I stare out after him, a farewell unspoken on my lips as I cast my gaze towards an orange, flickering lamp post lining the parallel street, and I realize how truly cold it is inside the shabby eatery.

As I tug the embarrassingly short, mandated skirt I'm forced to wear, I can only think of the comforting and safe walls of Hogwarts, my home only months ago, yearning for the soft crackle of a fireplace and the ambient chatter of portraits lining the walls. The muggles had nothing as interesting, nothing as familiar as the light of the silver moon passing through the large windows of the great hall. Nothing as comfortable as my own home back in England, with my mother and fathers smiling faces. Nothing as comfortable as the safe, unscarred arms of the once-kind boy I loved what feels like so long ago.

Being on the lam for about a month now, I've been skipping towns and laying low where I can. It’s not often, but when I'm able to stay in a town for longer than a week, I take pitiful muggle jobs, my current being to take orders at a local diner, “famous for their milkshakes”, although fame must mean four regular visitors in this nowhere town.

Jean, the gray-haired woman who owns the diner I work at, leans over the counter and points at the analog clock hanging on the wall. It reads almost 1:30, and it finally sets in how tired I am. She hums and looks me up and down, standing in the middle of the floor, standing stiff as a board while holding a broom. She clicks her tongue and shakes her head, a small smile gracing her aged face.

“I’m sorry, I zoned out.” I apologize, leaning the non-flying broom against a nearby booth, and smooth out my wind-swept hair.

Jean just shakes her head, “Go on and head home. You did good today.” she hums in approvement, tossing me my room key that was previously hanging on a hook in the kitchen. “Be careful out there, the papers said another storm is coming.” she warned, but a storm is the furthest thing from my mind as I push open the door. Silver light flashes across the street and my heart nearly stops beating, a pit forms in the bottom of my stomach. My eyes squint, finally adjusting to the lack of light, catch the face of a mannequin in the window of a shop. I let out a breath I don’t realize I’m holding and relax as I realize the moon had simply caught the silver details on the faux person. I turn on my heel and carry on down the dimly lit pavement towards my motel.

It’s just as run down as everything else in this town, water stains stretching across the ceiling like swatches of muddy paint, and the hideous carpet crunches underneath my feet. It isn’t much. It is nothing, in fact, but a roof over my head and sanctuary from the ruthless dangers outside.

I drop each article of clothing from my body onto the yellowing tile of the bathroom floor, stepping into the freezing cold water of the shower. I shudder, goosebumps racking through my body as I allow the water to wash away the grease and sweat, I collected today. I run a baby blue loofa over my skin, suds washing away with the now lukewarm stream. I close my eyes, and take a deep breath, and the smell of metallic rust from the old pipes fills my nostrils.

Blood. So much blood. It covers my hands, and my knees, my face, and my clothes. I practically wade through a pool of it, the dark hallways of that god awful manor stretch on infinitely, and the smell of rot and decay suffocates my senses. My heart nearly beats out of my chest as his strong arms wrap around me as I collapse to the floor, and I'm hyper aware of the many motionless bodies lying at my feet. His lips brush against my neck, rough and wet, and I wonder if they have blood on them too. I wouldn’t put it past him. Malicious is not a word I thought I would ever use to describe my lover, the man I thought I was going to marry one day, but like many other things before, he proved me wrong. His warm hands caress the soft fat of my thighs, slipping underneath the loose fabric of my shorts, and he leans into my ear. “They’re all gone now… Let’s go take a shower.”

I release a shaky breath and turn off the water, letting it drip from my head and down my face, mingling with salty tears. Wiping my face with my wet palms, which did nothing in retrospect, I sigh. I can’t go back there; I can never go back there. It isn’t safe anymore. He isn’t safe anymore. Come on, I can’t keep feeling bad for myself. This is ridiculous, and as I step out of the shower and dress myself, I feel a newfound sense of determination. Sleep, for the first time in months, finds me easily with her warm embrace.

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤

As most things in my life do, my high spirits came to an abrupt end. Smoke fills my lungs, but there's a strange taste to it. It’s not a fire, no, it was tobacco. A smell I was all too familiar with. I sat up in bed, and my eyes met the inky black eyes of his silver, skull mask. My breath catches in my throat, only for me to cough out the smoke from his cigarette.

He couldn’t have found me this easily. It’s a bad dream, it has to be. Merlin forgive me, God save me, tell me this is just a dream! The mask on his face shifts a little, clearly amused at my coughing fit. “Have anything to say?”

Say anything. Stop gaping at him like a fish, you are a powerful witch, almost top of your class in DADA. Almost. Second place, notably. Right behind him.

Mattheo Riddle.

A sob racks through my body, tears falling down my cheeks before I even realize, and I’m paralyzed in place. Half of me wants to crawl into his arms, to beg for forgiveness, to beg for him to take me home. Home to that wretched, dark house, with blood seeped into the wood. With blood-stained grout on the kitchen tile. With blood-stained walls. So, so much blood. The other half of me screams at me to run. To run, to run, run, run, RUN! For god's sake, run!

I push myself out of bed, fast enough to catch Mattheo by surprise. He flicks his cigarette to the side, letting it roll along the carpet floor. My hand reaches for my wand resting on a table beside the door as I duck out of his reaching arms, and I stumble to my feet as he lunges after me. I throw open the door, pulling it shut in his face as he screams for me.

“You bitch! Come back here!” he screams through the wood, struggling with the now sweat-slick doorknob.

The door splinters open with the blast of, “Bombarda!”, but I scramble down the wet, cold streets, my bare feet scratch against the rough pavement as I sprint, thankful that it had been just warm enough to not freeze. I duck down another street, pulling out my wand to apparate elsewhere. I rack my brain for a safe location. Hogwarts? I might be able to, but I don’t want to risk splinching. My job? It might separate me long enough to get my shit together.

Air is knocked out of me as a heavy body slams into mine, knocking my wand out of my hand. A heavy, black boot pins my wrist to the ground, and a silver mask that was not Riddle’s leans over me. He laughs under the mask, but I can’t tell which of his mentally fucked goons had caught me. I reach for my wand, but another set of boots kicks it out of my reach. Leather gloved hands grab my hair and lift me up to face the group now circling me.

“She looks pitiful, really. Like an angry kitten.” An Italian accent draws next to my ear with a mocking snicker, and I thrash to kick Theodore Nott anywhere I can, luckily landing a solid blow to his shin. He curses in pain, and hisses something inaudible underneath his mask as he throws me back to the ground. The rough concrete scratches against my exposed skin, drawing blood from the soft flesh. I yelp in pain, landing at the feet of someone else. A black, steel-toed boot presses against my cheek, pushing my head to the side as I watch another figure ominously approach. I would recognize my Mattheo’s casual amble anywhere, and he peered down at my stray wand laying at his feet.

I don’t even have time to protest as he steps his boot onto the wood, sparks fizzing out around the magic object as it snaps under his weight. A choked sob escapes me as he approaches, my eyes wide with horror and betrayal.

“Enough of this, love. It’s time to come home,” He drawls, kneeling down to my level and lifting my chin to meet his empty gaze. “Be a good girl and come back to me, I’m tired of this little game of yours.”

“Fuck. You.” I spat on the silver of his skull-like mask, noting the wild look in my own eyes as the saliva slips down its reflective surface.

Mattheo groaned and tugged off his mask, and my breath caught in my throat. What the hell is wrong with me? I can’t think this awful man who betrayed me, threatened me, hunted me down, can still be attractive. Then again, he was still the man I had loved–part of me still does love– all those years ago. The handsome face I fell asleep looking at, the doe eyes I found comfort in. He looked roguish now, his brown curls were longer than the last time I had seen him, and he had a new scar running across his cheek from our last encounter. My mouth goes dry as he leans into my face, his breath hot against my lips.

“I’ve missed you, love,” He practically purred, pressing his dry lips against my trembling ones. I whine against him, wriggling my body underneath the heavy weight of whoever was holding me.

Mattheo groaned, gripping my chin harder, “You used to be so obedient, pet, but don’t worry. I’ll fix you.” he mumbled, kissing my forehead as I felt his wand pressed to my temple. He mumbled an incantation against my skin, and I felt my body go limp before my eyes closed themselves, and sleep consumed me.

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤

It was cold, damp, and reeked of copper and mold. My body laid on the floor, sore and unresponsive to my will to move. As my senses came back to me, I tried climbing to my feet, but a chain tugged my ankle back to the floor. I tumbled to the stone floor, scraping my hands against its rough surface. I whimper in pain, and only as I go to wipe my hands on my pants do I realize I’m completely nude. Horror racks through my body as I take in my surrounding and own appearance. I know I'm back in that old house, that old, disgusting, horrible house of horrors, and tears fall from my stinging eyes again.

I don’t know how long I laid on that floor, shaking from the cold as I sob into the air, screaming and cursing with conviction, damning Riddle’s name to an eternity in hell. I scream, and wail, and cry until I tire myself out, my voice breaking into nothing but a hushed plea for freedom.

I fight sleep, sitting myself against a wall near my chain, breathing deep into my burning lungs. My eyes drift closed, but I will them open as the loud creak of a door alerts me. It’s only then that I notice a stairwell, casted in a white light with the newly opened door, and my heart nervously skips a beat as a tall shadow approaches the stairwell. The stairs creak under his weight as he descends to what I can only infer is a basement, and I stare up at his form.

Mattheo wasn’t nearly as scary like this, dressed in black slacks and a loose white shirt. Had he not been so threatening, and the reason I was chained to the basement floor, I would have swooned over the top buttons being undone. Perhaps I still do get butterflies in my stomach, but that may just be nausea.

He looks down at me with an expression I can only describe as mock sympathy, clicking his tongue softly. “Down here for less than three hours and you’ve already managed to hurt yourself,” he scolded me, shaking his head in disappointment, “My clumsy girl, what am I going to do with you?”

The smile he cracked made me want to claw his eyes out, or kiss him, and I worry that he may have slipped me a love potion. My ears ring, and my head suddenly aches with a mild pain, and Mattheo smirks.

“Like the shirt, do you?” He teased, kneeling down to my level. I curse under my breath, face heating up with anger (Or embarrassment, I can’t really tell), of course I forget he’s a legilimens. “Drop the act darling, I know you’re going to crack eventually. Save us both the trouble so I can finally bring you back to bed.” His warm hand tenderly caressed my cold cheek, and I fought the urge to lean into the comforting touch. “I hate seeing you down here like this, but you need to remember your place.”

My eyes snap back to his, and I whip my head to the side to bite his hand. He scowls and rips his hand away, reeling it back and back-handing me across the face. It knocks my breath out of my chest, and the rings on his fingers cut my cheek. Metallic blood drips to the floor.

“Fine. Stay down here and bleed out for all I care.” He snaps, rubbing his sore hand as he turns on his heel and storms up the stairs. The door slams loudly behind him, and I’m engulfed in sudden darkness.

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤

My cheek and hands had long stopped bleeding the next time he came back, staining my skin red with its slick. My head lifts as the door opens again, and light makes my eyes dilate painfully. Mattheo trudges down the stairs, his head hanging low, and a small white box hanging from his hand. He approaches me and kneels at my level. I meet his gaze, glaring into his soft eyes.

“Darling, you know I didn’t mean to hit you, right?” He mumbled, holding my chin to twist my cheek towards him, his rough actions bringing tears to my eyes. “I was just so worked up, and you were pushing too many buttons, you’ll forgive me, right?” He asks hopefully, but I don’t answer him.

He sighs in defeat, opening the little box and retrieving a cloth and bottle full of a clear liquid. My eyes go wide, and I scramble backwards as far as the chain allows me to. “No, No, Mattheo please don’t-” I plead, heart racing as he looks at me with confusion.

A smile breaks across his face, “Oh darling, no, no, it’s just alcohol.” he laughs a bit, a deep sound that makes pleasant shivers run down my spine and too an embarrassing heat between my legs. What the fuck is wrong with me? He approaches me again, dousing the cloth with the solution before taking my hands. He shushes my soft whines as he presses it to my scraped palms, which makes me hiss at the burning sensation. “Good girl, there we go. That’s much better, isn’t it?” he asks as he takes a roll of gauze from the box and wraps each of my hands. He lifts my palms to his lips, pressing a storm of soft pecks and kisses to the gauze and skin. My face heats up at the gesture, and I force myself to look away. He was always so chivalrous for a monster, though it hurt to call him that even after everything.

He presses the cloth to my cheek next, his thumb tracing calming circles into the opposite cheek. “Such a pretty girl, my pretty girl.” He whispered, placing a bandage over my skin. Just like my palms, he kisses my cheek, though much slower and intimate this time. “I don’t want to hurt you, you know?” he promised, leaning over my trembling body. He looked down at me, eyes drifting past my collarbone, and he whistled softly. “A sight for sore eyes… and It’s all mine.” He smirked, leaning down as he supported his weight on his forearms. His chapped lips press suspiciously soft kisses to my neck. A loud thud coming from upstairs makes Mattheo groan and pull away. He looks down at me, wide eyed beneath him, “I’ll be right back, love, don’t worry your pretty little head.” He hummed, patting my cheek as he stood up.

He casts me one last yearning glance before he shuts the door again, much softer this time. I lean back against the stone, releasing a breath I didn’t know I was holding, and try to ignore the wetness between my thighs as I drift off to sleep.

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤

I’m startled awake as the basement door slams shut, and heavy footsteps descend to my prison. Mattheo storms into view, and before I can even get a word out, he grabs me by the hair and pulls me up to my knees. He sneers down at me, and my head is spinning from the sudden switch up.

“Incompetent assholes. Have to do everything myself around here,” He mumbled, not really speaking to me rather than himself. He doesn’t loosen his grip on my hair as his other hand tugs apart the button of his slacks.

My eyes go wide with shock, and he pulls my hair, forcing my chin up to look at him. “Open your mouth,” He demands, his voice lacking his previous warmth, and I'm reminded that this is not my Matty. My lip quivers and I shake my head slightly. Mattheo pulls his half-hard cock from the confines of his black briefs and pulls me by the hair to his tip. “I don’t have time for this attitude, I said open your mouth.”

I don’t even have a moment to react before his leaking tip is pressed against my mouth. He pushes his way past, groaning as my wet lips engulf his mushroomed tip. He pulls on my hair again, forcing himself further into my warm hole. “There you go, not so hard, was it? Now suck.” He orders in a tone I’ve never heard him use in bed before, and as he bucks his hips towards my face, I whine in protest while the ache returns to my lower stomach. My jaw relaxes on its own, familiar with the girth of his hung cock. An almost inaudible whine slips through my throat, and he groans at the tightness. One more tug lets me know his patience is running thin, and I reach my bandaged hand up to stroke the rest of him while I focus on his tip.

Mattheo bites back a moan, his hips stuttering as I descend further down onto his length. His leaky tip presses against the back of my throat, and he holds my head in place while he rocks his hips further into me. My nose presses against his groin as he slips down the back of my throat, and his grip moves from my hair to my throat, feeling my neck bulge with every movement. Saliva drips past him and down my chin, dribbling to the floor in thick droplets. He shudders as my throat tightens around him, nearly swallowing the head.

“Yeah, yeah… Fuck baby. Keep going for me, almost there,” He mumbles, rocking his hips faster than before. I whine around him, my own hand slipping down to the ache at my core. My fingers gingerly brush against my clit, and the soft moan I try to let out makes Mattheo’s head roll back. Hot spurts of his seed shoot down my throat and my glossy eyes go wide at the feeling.

“Swallow,” Is all he says, and obediently, I do. He pulls my head off of him, his cum mixing with the drool in my mouth when it drips down my chin. He grips my face between his index finger and thumb, collecting the mess with a swipe of his finger and pushing it back into my sore mouth. “All of it.”

When I satisfied him, he pushed me back to the ground, and I yelped in pain as I collided against the stone surface. “When I come down here, I want you on your knees waiting for my dick. Understand?”

I nod weakly, and he smirks down at me. “Good girl. Keep it up and maybe I’ll bring you back upstairs.” He says, before pulling back up his pants and running a hand through his hair.

When he leaves again, I’m left with an unbearable, wet mess.

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤

With nothing else to do in my makeshift prison, I sleep a lot. And when I wake up, I force myself to sleep again. I sleep God knows how long before the door opens again, and Mattheo trudges down the stairs. I scramble to my knees, honestly fearing what might happen if I disobey him, and when Mattheo catches sight of me, he smiles.

“There’s my pretty girl.” He hums, holding a platter with a bowl of something steaming, a slice of some sort of bread, and a bottle of water. My stomach growls as its divine aroma fills my senses, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve eaten.

Mattheo sits down in front of me and puts the tray between up. He rests his elbow on his knee and leans into his palm. “Eat,” he orders me, gesturing to the platter with the wave of his free hand. “Or would you prefer I feed you myself?” He asks with a smirk, watching how I shift from my knees to rest on my hip. I grab the water bottle first, chugging half of it in one go, before I subconsciously offer him a sip. What’s mine is his. Was his. Was. I look up at him, taking the water and sipping from it. I tore my gaze away before he noticed.

“I don’t want to stay in the basement anymore,” I mumble, dipping the bread into the soup before taking a bite, shivering at its deliciousness. Mattheo sighed and shook his head. “You know I can’t do that yet. You ran away, darling. I can’t trust you won’t do that again,” He explained, reaching his hand across the way to rub my knee soothingly. I sigh and push the tray away, my appetite gone. Mattheo frowned and moved the tray away, leaning over me. “Princess, c’mon, don’t be this way.” he hummed, pushing me onto my back. My heart rate quickened, and he definitely noticed. “But you’re right. I’ve been neglecting you… That’s why you ran away right? My poor girl was lonely and scared.” he hummed, pressing his lips to my collar bone. “Not anymore. My attention is solely on you, I promise.”

My head rolled back a little, lolling onto the floor as he trailed his kisses down my sternum, stopping at my breasts to gently knead them. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I reached for his hair, tugging gently on his loose curls. He groaned in response, his lips finding my perked nipple and taking it into his warm mouth. His other hand slipped down my soft stomach, dipping between my thighs. Out of reflex, I squeezed them together, and Mattheo parted from my tit. He sat back on his haunches, using his strong, scarred hands to pull apart my thighs and admire my glistening, needy cunt.

“It’s been all about me, huh? Need to show my girls some love.” He mumbled, before dipping his head down. His warm breath fanned across my puffy lips, and I shivered at the breeze. He didn’t waste a second more, drawing a long, needy moan from my lips as he licked a long strip from my hole to my clit. My hands tangle into his hair again, and my mouth falls open with pleasure. “Fuck, Matty–” the nickname fell from my lips without a second thought, and he practically purrs against me. His hands grip my thighs, pulling them over his shoulders as he dives nose deep into my pussy. My back arches off the floor as a string of curses flies from my lips. I feel his wet appendage push against my hole, and I clench at the feeling as his nose brushes against my sensitive bud. I tug on his hair again, “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!” I mewl, my edge fast approaching as Mattheo swirls his tongue over my clit. He sloppily makes out with my lower lips, pulling me closer to the edge with each passing second, and I’m in near tears when there's a loud crash up above us.

Mattheo practically roars in anger, pulling his soaked face away from my aching cunt, the knot in my stomach loosening at the sudden separation. I whine and sit up, trying to pull him back down, but he stops me with a firm hold on my wrist. “Stay here and don’t make a sound.” he ordered, “I need to take care of this, and I promise as soon as I’m done, I’ll come right back.”

Anger flashes through me, and I bite back my cries. “Don’t you dare leave me like this, Riddle.” I snap, and he gives me a warning look that makes goosebumps prick at my skin. He leans in, pressing a wet kiss to my lips, and I can feel him shiver as I lick my own arousal from his lips. “I’ll be right back, princess. Be good for me, and we can talk about a reward.”

And with that, he left yet again.

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤

I was starting to get sick of his mind games, switching up his attitude, finally giving me relief before ripping it away from me. Fuck. What am I saying? I watched him murder dozens of people; I watched lives being taken right in front of me. I shiver at the memory and try to focus on anything else before it becomes too much to bear.

I hate how he makes me feel. Sometimes he’s my Mattheo, and sometimes he’s nothing but a parasite attached to a face I can’t help but love. My back hits a wall, and I can’t count how long he’s been gone. I miss his warm, familiar touch, but anything was better than the cold, dark basement. I close my eyes, my lip trembling as I reach my hand down, fingers hesitantly spreading my folds. Cold air hit my wet lips, and I gasp at the feeling. I brush my fingertips against my hole, whining softly at the pleasure that coursed through my body. Maybe I'm sick in the head, maybe I hit my head too hard one day on the run and never recovered. Maybe I never really hated Mattheo.

What is wrong with me?

I don’t move when the door opens again. I glare at him, anger coursing through my veins. This was not ‘right back’. As Mattheo’s black boot lands on the stone floor, my mouth goes dry. He’s weaning that stupid mask again, and that stupid costume, tilting his head stupidly at me. He approaches me in a way that makes my heart race in fear, like I'm nothing but cowardly prey between the jaws of a large wolf.

He knees down, retrieving his hand from his pocket. Wordlessly, he unlocks the chain around my ankle, and he looks up at me. With another wave of his wand, I’m dressed in a loose tank top and shorts. It’s not much at all, but it’s better than naked. A rush of emotions rushes through my chest, and I almost gratefully throw my arms around Mattheo, but he stops me.

“Go. Run,” He orders, stepping aside. I stare up at him in confusion, mounted to my spot on the ground. “I said run, little pet, like you want to.” He pulls me from the ground, pressing my cold body up against his comforting warmth. “Run, and if I catch you,” he leaned down into my ear, and through the skull mouth of his mask I could feel his breath fanning across my ear. “Well, I think you know what’s going to happen.”

I still don’t move, wondering if he would be less harsh if I stayed with him, but he only laughed. “Such a good girl, don’t worry,” he pulled his mask up just enough to expose his pearly white teeth. They sunk into the soft flesh just beneath my ear, “I’ll always find you. Go, now.”

I don’t know what possessed me, but my feet started moving on their own. I raced up the stairs of the basement and pushed past the door. The house was just as I remembered, dark with walls that were too tall, black cloths hung over the complaining portraits. I was disoriented in the dark, but my feet carried me through the house until I found the overtly large entrance. I pushed open the doors and ran out into the cold, snowy night.

Frost nipped at each of my limps, and my lungs found it harder to breathe the frigid air. I ran anyway, out towards the woods surrounding the manor. I cast a glance over my shoulder, finding Mattheo staring back at me through the blacked-out eyes of his mask. I ducked into the tree line, just as he started his casual stroll towards me. Cocky bastard.

I run for as long as I can before my lungs give out. I leaned against a tree, walking slowly into a clearing. I take a deep breath, pulling my arms behind my head to breathe deeper. Just as I find a moment of peace, a branch snaps behind me. I whip my head around, my heart racing as Mattheo approaches me. He doesn’t run, only walks towards me with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He ditched that awful mask, and I can see the smirk pulling at the edge of his lips. I stumble backwards, falling into the fresh snow. He continues his pace, unbothered by my racing heart as I scramble away from him and finally back to my feet. I don’t get one leg in front of the other before strong arms are wrapped around my waist, slipping under the loose fabric of my shirt.

“I win,” He mumbles in my ear, voice dark and raspy. It sends a chill down my spine that pools in my underwear.

Mattheo throws me over his shoulder, ignoring my flailing lips as he walks back to the manor. “Didn’t even get a mile, love. Lost your talent it seems, or maybe you knew you’d miss me too much.” he teased, running his warm hands up my thigh, pressing a kiss to my exposed skin.

It isn’t long before we’re back at the manor, and I thank every god I'm in good ties with when he walks past the basement. He takes me to his room instead, our room, the room where I've fallen apart under his touch more times than I can count.

I breathe in his familiar scent as he deposits me on the bed, and I roll over to bury my burning face in the pillows. Mattheo chuckles at me and grabs my hips, pulling me back against him as he grinds his hardening bulge against the plushness of my ass.

“You’ve been extra obedient, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice dripping with a tone I could quite place. Lust? Possession? Love? It all blurred together as he rutted his hips against me. “Good girls deserve a reward, don’t they?” he asked, before hooking his fingers at the hem of my shorts. He pulled them down to expose my glistening cunt. He spread me out along his fingers, admiring the way my pussy pulsed around nothing. He leaned in, pressing a possessive kiss to my clit, holding my hips as I try to buck away from him.

His warm fingers trace along my thighs, sleeping between my legs and collecting the arousal that pooled there. I release a shaky breath into the pillow as his finger circles my clit, and I arch my back to present myself further. He hums in appreciation, trailing his finger further up to my dripping hole, slowly pushing his middle finger inside of me. I gasp at the intrusion, not being able to remember the last time something so long had been inside of me. I keen under his touch, gripping the sheets for stability as he slowly pumps his finger in and out of me. A moan escapes me as he curls his finger, and his thumb brushes against my needy pearl again. Mattheo adds a second finger, spreading out my tight, gummy walls. I crumble under his touch, mouth falling open and eyes going half lidded as he pulls his fingers from me.

I hear him dropping his pants, and the bed dips behind me yet again as he leans his body completely over mine. His arm wraps around my neck, pressing me close to his chest while his breath fans across my face. The tip of his cock presses against me, and I whine at the sensation, pushing my hips back against him.

“Needy girl, thought you didn’t need me anymore.” He teased, pushing just the bulbous tip into my hole. It’s enough to make the knot in my stomach tighten, and I shake my head. “Need you, Matty, Need you so bad.” I admit, face flushed with embarrassment as he smirks. “Gonna run away again?”

He doesn’t let me get an answer out before he’s pressing further inside of me, the stretch burning pleasantly while my eyes roll back. His arm around my throat tightens, “I asked you a question, darling.” He teased, licking away the stray tear that fell from my eyes. I gasp as his cock brushes against a gummy bundle of nerves, and my head drops to the pillows. He tugs me back against him, pushing even further until he balls slapped against me. “No! No, never gonna leave again,” I promised, involuntary whines spilling from my throat.

Mattheo pulls his hips back before drilling them back into me, “Good girl,” He grins as he sets a punishing pace, watching my face contort into pleasure underneath him. “Who owns you?” he asks, and I push back against his hips desperately. “You! You do, God, you do!” I moan, feeling my head go light from the lack of airflow.

“God isn’t here, Love, It’s just me now.”

He drills into my pulsating hole, my back arching at his every thrust as my brain goes mushy from the pleasure. The arm around my throat pulls away, slipping down my stomach to find my pearl. His fingers are just as fast as his pace, and I can’t fight back the whorish moans in my throat. His lips attach to my shoulder, biting a possessive mark into my skin as he fucks me good, better than he ever had before.

Tears fall from my eyes, and my hand grips his desperately as I’m worked to my edge. “Matty, Matty please…” I trail off into a string of moans, and Mattheo adjusts himself behind me. He bucks his hips into me once more, and I fall apart all over him. My pussy flutters around his cock, and he rides out my orgasm with a few last thrusts of his hips, before he spills his hot seed deep into my womb. Mattheo collapses on top of me, still deep inside as he pins my body to the bed. He hums into my neck, burying himself in my skin.

“That’s my good girl. Let’s go take a shower.”

#rot says so #dark!mattheo riddle #dark!mattheo riddle x reader #dark!Mattheo riddle x reader smut #slytherin boys #slytherin boys smut #mattheo riddle x reader smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x reader fluff #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle

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cherry-luvz · 3 months ago

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Cockwarming with K.MJ.

Genre - Smut and fluff.

Warning- G!P Minji, just cockwarming, Don't be a dud- wrap your bud.

Paring - GP!loser!Minji x gf!fem!reader.

Synopsis - Its winter, and Minji needs warming up. You’re her only option.

Word count - 1.4K

MINJI - Red.

READER - White.

It was a chill einter eveling and Uni had just broken off for two weeks of holiday to enjoy Christmas with loved ones.

You where on your phone when you got a text, It was around 07:45PM when your phone pinged you decided to check as saw that it was your gf texting you.

Min Min 💬

-> Baby? 🤭

-> Yes, minji?😑

-> Can u come over, to my place? 🫶🏻🫶🏻

-> no. 😾

-> PLSSSSSSS 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

-> still no, Its freezing cold outside! 💀💀 I ain’t walking in that cold ur crazy ☠️☠️

-> PLSSSS BABY PLSS!! 😿😿

-> Give me one gd reason y I should go to ur house..😑😑

-> Bc yk 😏😏

-> Ik? Wdym..? 🥸

-> 🙇🏻‍♀️🙆🏻‍♀️ ❤️😏

-> 😰😰😰😰😰

-> so watcha say bbg? 😼😼😼

-> nty I’m gd fr 😊👍

-> 😔😔😔😔 please love 🥺

-> Bro u just wanna get freaky min.😑

-> That’s not true! 😞

-> Yh sure. 🙄

-> please!! I’ll give cuddles..! 😖❤️

-> U promise? 😑

-> I prowmiss🥺

-> Fine i’ll come but u have to come pick me up.😑

-> YAYYY.. wait do I really..?😽😦

-> yh u do i ain’t walking in the snow🙄.

-> okay okay i’ll be there in 40😖.

-> aww ty see ya!

-> See u soon bbg, luv u😽😽

-> Ily too ❤️

You sighed and got up from your bed, you put on a pink skirt, nude coloured tights, a crop top, a white puffer jacket with a scarf and you small bag which held your phone, lipstick, lipgloss, Vaseline, mini perfume and your purse.

You styled your hair and then put on log warmers with socks then you put on your Ugg’s. You grabbed your keys and exit your apartment complex

It was snowing outside and you waited for your gf to pick you up as she said she would. Around 10 - 15 mintes later a black BMW pulled up in front of you.

The person rolled down the window, “Hey baby, hop in..” She said with a smile and leaned over to the passenger side opening the door.

“New car..?” You said, climbing into her car.

You then closed the door and put on your seat belt, “Yeah, my nice new sweat baby!..”

“Hmm but I thought i was your baby.?” You pouted looking up at her as she put her hand on your knee, her touch was cold, you shivered.

“You are, but this is my like.. ‘car’..”she said and you nodded.

You looked out the window, watching the snow fall, Minji had her left hand on the wheel and her right on your lap.

40 MINUTES LATER

Minji parked outside the gate, minji was from a wealthy family so she lived in the luxury apartment.

You watched as she beeped a black card and ths gates open. “We’ll be at my place soon..” She said gently gripping your thigh.

You nodded, “Okay..”

She drove for another 5-10 minutes and you guys reached a huge luxury apartment. “Were here baby..” she said as she parked the car in the in the parking lot.

You undo your seat belt at the same time she does hers, she got up and got out of the car doing a quick jog to your side opening the door for you.

“Thanks luv,” You said getting out as you held her hand, “Ha anything for my princess..”

She closed the door and you waited for her to lock the door, she then took your hand and you guys walked into the building.

After a few minutes You where at your gf’s house, she took off your shoes for you, put on your puffer jacket down as well ad you’re scarf and sat next to you.

Minji were cold from the snow so she shivered, you look at her. “You cold.?” You asked her and she yawned.

“Yeah.. i’m freezing..” she leaned back in her chair and you looked at her, she the smirked looking at your thighs.

She like you wearing skirts, it was a complete turn of for her. You looked her hear, feeling her gaze on yo, “What are you looking at, luv?”

She wrapped her arm around your waist, squeezing it gently. “I love your skirt baby~” she said looked at you with a smirk.

“Perv.” You muttered as your face heated up, she chuckled. “But you love it don’t you..?”

You did, you did love it. You felt as she pulled you closer, her gaze going towards your lips. “Mhm so soft..” she rubbed the bottom of your lips.

You blushed as she came closer, leaning in to kiss you. As you guys lips met you blushed even more, you felt as she pulled you into her lap making you straddle her.

You guys continued to kiss as she placed her hands on your waist while you had your hands on her shoulders. She pulled away and smiled at you, “You’re so pretty baby, but I’m a little cold.. you wouldn’t mind cock warming me?”

You felt the boner she had your breath hitched. “I-i..” you stumbled over your words. “..o-okay..” she smiled and pulled down her sweatpants.

You looked down as you saw her cock, it was a pretty pink colour. She smiled and kissed your neck.. “A-ah b-baby..” you whimpered as you clutched onto her shirt.

You felt her move your panties to the side and teased her cock to your hole. “Hmm so wet for me princess.. so fucking wet..”

She pushed into you and you sat down on it, “a-ah!” You moaned.

“Fuckkk princess..” she grunted.

You sat there cock warming her, you wanted to move so bad. You felt her hold your hips down not letting you move at all.

You whimpered as you clenched around her, placing your head on her chest. “Oh gosh thats a dangerous game to play bbg..” she said gripping onto your hips.

You clenched again, “Ahhh.. hmmpf..” you moaned.

She gritted her teeth, “if you do that one more time I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t walk..”

You clenched around her one last time and she, keeping to her words, pinned you down and pulled up your crop top up and sucked on your breast as she pounded into you.

“Hmmpf a-ah! Mommy fuck.. ah” you moaned and your eyes teared up from too much pleasure. “You’re my cock slut isn’t it? Fucking slut.”

You nodded as she continued to pound into your tight cunt, “Ah mhmpf.. mommy..”

“Hmm oh gosh baby..” you felt as she pulled you closer and pounded into you deeper and deeper.

You felt her cock touch your cervix, “Oh gosh ah.. yeah mommy ahh hungggg right there hmpff!!..” your eyes rolled back.

Minji noticed, she had hit your g-spot and continued to do so, “Mhm your so gushy and warm~”

Your mouth formed a ‘o’ shape as you felt a knot in your stomach. She continued to bully her huge cock into you tight cunt, you whimpered and felt her grip getting tighter.

“Hmpf mommy..” you moaned as you felt the knot slowly coming undone. “You gonna cum?” She asked you and you nodded, slowly opening your eyes.

“C-can i cum mommy..? I’ve been hunggnnggg.. a g-good hmpfffff g-girl..” you clenched more onto her shirt.

She leaned down next to your ear, “Hmm go on baby girl, cum for mommy..” she whispered as she moved even faster.

You felt the knot come undone and you cumed, “Oh gosh minji fuck..” your body shivered and you cumed all over her cock which she was still moving in and out of you, letting you ride out your orgasm.

“Now let mommy cum you.. ya?” You nodded and felt as your vision became hazy and she smug, she knows you were brain fucked.

It was a bit sore at first until you felt another orgasm creeping up apron you, “M-mommy i-I’m gonna a-ah cum.. a-ah..a-again..” you mentioned.

“Me too, get ready for mommy’s fat load.” She said as you fell her cock twitch a bit in you.

You felt as her thrusts become more and more sloppy. “H-hmpf.. baby.. mommy’s gonna cum..” she whimpered.

You whimpered, “Fuck cum with me baby..”

And you did so, you felt as her load filled you up as your leg twitched, your cunt throbbing and Minji lying on top of your chest.

She then sat up after catching her breath. “Fuck”

She gently pulled out watching as your pussy gently pushed out you and her’s cum mixed together. She saw the creampie and chuckled.

“Hmm.. best sex ever babe. Loved it..” she said as she put your panties back on. You rolled your eyes and gently sat up, “I feel sticky..” You said and got up but your legs gave away.

Minji quickly caught you. “Gosh..” you muttered.

She chuckled, “Hmm i did really fuck you till you can’t walk..”

#kpop gg #©️cherry luzs #kpop.#newjeans #gxg #kpop smut #wlw post #kim minji #newjeans minji #kpop x you #fluff #smut

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aroaceleovaldez · 7 months ago

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i feel like many adhd/autistic people have very strong opinions about pants vs skirts/dresses (and vs shorts vs skirt-shorts) so here is My Oddly Specific PJO Headcanons About Their Legwear Opinions:

Percy - Shorts and short skirts kind of guy. Not a huge fan of fabric touching his legs. Type of guy to wear shorts in the middle of winter. Thinks skirt-shorts are neat. Will tolerate long pants if required but not long skirts (surprise fabric against his legs is Bad).

Annabeth - HATES skirts/dresses. Insert line from SoM about Percy not being able to imagine Annabeth caught dead in a dress here. The flowing fabric is a liability and she must be ready for combat at all hours.

Jason - Refused to wear pants until he was like 12. He was raised by wolves and then raised in New Rome; he did not wear pants as a child. Big fan of skirts/dresses but doesn't wear them as often as he'd like. BIG fan of togas/chitons. Pants are extremely hit-or-miss for him and he's very particular about it. Shorts are even more questionable.

Piper - Shorts or skirt-shorts mostly, though is fine with pants. Absolutely hates skirts/dresses do not even look at her with one she will destroy it with her mind. Loose fabric swooshing against legs bad. 100% DIY'd her own jorts though.

Leo - Least amount of loose fabric possible. too dangerous around machinery. Also he needs one billion pockets at all times or he will lose his mind. Shorts or pants only (though overalls are also very nice).

Frank - The only neutral party because he's (allegedly) neurotypical. He just doesn't have sensory problems so he doesn't care. Generally prefers pants though just cause otherwise his legs stick together like when it's hot out or chafe and that's not fun. Also has trouble finding good shorts. If those problems are solved though he's all for shorts/skirts/dresses/etc.

Hazel - Basic jeans or denim-type stuff or the frilliest skirt/dress you've ever seen with no in-between. If it's denim she will doodle on it though.

Nico - Pants only, maybe shorts, and maybe has like one or two exception skirts that he wears pants under anyways. Will tolerate togas/chitons with shorts. Generally dislikes skirts/dresses though mostly just because he grew up in the 1930s so he probably had to wear baby dresses and wearing skirts and dresses now mostly just makes him feel a little bit like a toddler. Also he doesn't like having his legs exposed. His legs will breathe through the rips in his jeans and that is all they need. Yes he is dying in the heat. Yes he has the stupidest tan lines ever don't look at him.

Reyna - Enemy of pants. She'll tolerate them but she won't be happy about it. Long skirts and maybe shorts only. If you can't fight in a long skirt/dress that's a skill issue.

Will - Shorts ONLY. Maybe a short skirt or short dress if he's having a good gender day but would not be caught dead in pants. He and Percy are standing in solidarity in their shorts in 10 degree (fahrenheit) weather shivering their legs off.

#pjo #riordanverse #percy jackson #annabeth chase #jason grace #piper mclean #leo valdez #frank zhang #hazel levesque #nico di angelo #reyna ramírez-arellano #will solace #headcanon #headcanons #this has been sitting in my drafts for ages but i think about it constantly so to the wild it goes #long post //

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thebirdandthebee · 2 months ago

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Delicate | Aemond Targaryen

This is just my second time writing for this universe, so I'm still learning! I think I am open to taking requests for Aemond as well if you're interested!

featuring | king!Aemond "One-Eye" Targaryen x Reader

length | 918 words (another shorty!)

synopsis | You take a tumble and Aemond is worried about your condition since you're such a soft girl

warnings | fluff + mention of blood

Aemond circled the map laid in front of him, hands clasped behind his back as Sir Criston looked on, observing his king.

Without announcement, a member of the Kingsguard entered the chamber, a worried expression on his face.

"My Grace,” he bowed his head, “there’s been an incident with the Queen.”

Aemond slammed his fist on the table before hastily exiting the room.

x x x

A few tears escaped your eyes and you felt silly, but you were in pain. There was certainly no room for ‘toughening up’ as you grew up in a castle surrounded by brothers and guards. You lived a soft life – a delicate life, and even something like a scrape threw you entirely off your senses. But this was a step beyond a scrape, and you kept hiccups at bay as the maester applied the thin, viscous ointment to your exposed flesh.

“What’s happened?” Aemond swept into the room like a cool wind on a fall day with threat of a looming winter.

Looking up at your husband, the tears you’d managed to keep at bay spilled forth, face crumpling slightly. Aemond’s eye cut to Ser Noble, your dedicated member of the Queensguard.

“Speak,” he commanded.

“Aem,” you sniffled, wanting to take the heat off your Queensguard. It truly wasn’t Ser Noble’s fault.

“I said speak,” he insisted, taking a step toward your protector.

“My King,” Ser Noble began, “it was a true and honest mistake,” he added. Aemond’s expression of fury never faulted, especially at the hiccup you tried to stifle.

“Husband, please,” you pleaded. Aemond steeled his expression, approaching his wife as the maester finished wrapping your arm in a muslin cloth, fastening it gently.

“The Queen will be just fine in time, perhaps with a small scar,” the maester explained, “I will return to apply the salve in the morning and in the evening.” Aemond’s eyes tracked as the maester left the room.

“I will administer the salve,” the King scowled, to which the maester nodded curtly.

“Ser Noble, please take your leave,” you moused out, to Aemond’s displeasure.

“I believe Ser Noble still needs to regale me with how this came to be,” he frowned deeply.

“Ser Noble may go, please Aemond,” you insisted. The king acquiesced to your wishes and tracked the knight as he left your shared apartments.

Kneeling beside your seat on the chaise, he gently took your hand.

“What happened, my Queen?” He asked, trying his best to be softer, but still quite upset at the site of your blood. He firmly believed he should never see you bleed, your blood was far too precious.

“I…” you sniffled again, making his heart feel like lead. “I just wanted to play with the children,” you explained, “they were playing a game with a ball I’d sent to the home, kicking it about the courtyard,” you continued. “but my feet got caught up in my skirt and I fell to the ground, with only my arm to catch me.”

Aemond’s brows knit into a tight, blond bridge, but his anger began to slowly dissipate.

“And it hurts quite bad,” you emphasized, whimpering gently.

“Let me see,” Aemond said, gingerly grasping your wrist and bringing it up to his eye-level.

“Gentle,” you sniffled once more.

Aemond knew his wife was a fragile thing – gentle in make and demeanor – something he rather enjoyed about you. Your softness was a steep contrast to his sharp edges.

“I believe you’ll make a full recovery, my queen,” he whispered gently, reaching up to thumb away the crystalline tear on your cheek.

“I scared the children, and got blood on my favorite dress,” you pouted, “Gods Aemond it hurts so bad,” you whimpered. Aemond’s eye flickered down to your soft pink dress, noting the blood that stained the impossibly silky fabric, trimmed with gold trappings along the neckline.

“We’ll have a new one made, exactly the same,” he assured quietly. “And for the children, I assure you, those orphans have seen much worse,” he replied, pressing two soft kisses to your knuckles. “I believe it would be best for you to rest in bed,” he advised.

“Is that your recommendation, maester Aemond?” You asked quietly between sniffles, bringing a whisper of a smile to your husband’s face. “Come now, my little ward, let your King tuck you in,” he said, standing to his full height and stepping back, allowing you space to stand from the chaise. “Aemond,” you gasped as your King lifted you into his arms, mindful of your bandage as he carried you over to your bedchamber.

“It’s alright,” he insisted, moving swiftly to the bed. Setting you gently atop your made bed, he quickly worked to elevate your arm before bringing you a glass and carafe of water. “What can I do?” He asked, noting the unfallen tears in your lashes.

“Hold me,” you murmured, that deep pout causing him heartache. Aemond carefully joined you in bed, and you were quick to turn into his body, bandaged arm slung over his middle.

“They were so scared, Aemond, it broke my heart,” you bit your lip, looking up at your husband from your place on his chest, the scent of his clothing bringing you comfort.

“The children will be just fine,” he replied, “I will see to it,” he added quietly.

“You’ll take care of me?” You asked quietly, big eyes still brimming with tears.

“Of course, my Queen.”

#aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #house of the dragon #aemond x you #possessive aemond #house of the dragon fic #soft!aemond #soft aemond

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gold-onthe-inside · 23 days ago

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hey, december

based on: request pulled from @imagining-in-the-margins CM Wrong Recipient Writing Challenge - character throws a snowball at their friend… but misses (and hits their crush/an attractive stranger instead) - can be xOC. who: spencer reid x bau!reader (no use of y/n)

They're in Chicago, snowed in and it started out with JJ looking wistfully out into the snowy weather as they packed up their files to take home, and made worse by Hotch telling them that their flight was delayed because of the weather, and so they ended up in outside the hotel, bundled up in their coats and scarves and mittens, watching the snow fall. Emily and JJ had gone off on their own, wandering and talking, marvelling at how the snow felt underfoot, JJ talking about Pennsylvania winters.

A flake fell on your nose, melting, listening to Spencer talking about how much snow Chicago gets in a year, his brain working on autopilot around you lately, otherwise he'd spend too long admiring how you looked all cozy and adorable in your bundled layers and the flush in your cheeks. He'd somehow gotten to how many inches of snow there had been in 1969 when Derek pelted his shoulder with a snowball.

"Just enjoy the snow, man," he said as Spencer rubbed his shoulder with a hurt expression.

"Hey!" he cried before leaning over to scoop snow in his hand and throwing it back at Derek who dodged it, running behind you to shield himself as you cried out, clearly objecting to being used as a pawn in their game.

"Oh, come on, let me go!" you squealed, pulling away as Spencer gathered snow in his hand.

"Gotta be faster than that, kid. I grew up with two sisters," Derek replied, picking up more snow, forming it into a ball and throwing it at Spencer, hitting his torso, leaving his coat with faint crumbs of snow.

"That's it," Spencer muttered, picking up the snow ball and Derek started skirting his line of sight. Spencer threw it hard and Derek ducked, knocking you in the head. Derek was snickering while Spencer clapped his hands over his mouth, eyes wide in panic as he rushed over. "I'm so sorry!"

Your eyes were closed, snow crumbing your beanie, frozen in spot in shock and Spencer was instantly at your side. "Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry--" But you had started giggling.

"Kid, I think you broke her," Derek said as you stepped back, looking at Spencer.

"I'm totally getting you back for that," you said, picking up snow, forming a ball, and throwing it at Spencer before he had the good sense to run away.

Spencer darted away once he realised he was under attack, slipping and sliding away in the snow, looking sheepish. "Come on, I only did it by accident!" he protested, throwing a haphazard snowball over his shoulder, but it was a poor hit.

You chased after him, laughing carelessly as you threw another snowball at him. "Get him, cupcake!" Derek shouted, egging you on.

The thing is, Spencer wasn't in any way a good runner on steady ground, so it was only a matter of time before he slipped and fell.

"Shit!" you cried, running over as he lay sprawled in a bed of snow, instantly on your knees beside him. "Are you okay?"

Spencer groaned, propping himself up onto his elbows, a little shaken. "I feel like I just got jumped by a snowman. I'm fine," he reassured you, managing a crooked grin as he sat himself up. He looked at you, sitting beside him in your hat and scarf, cheeks flushed from the cold and the exertion.

You folded your lips, trying not to laugh at him, and maybe it was the cold snap in the air or how close you were to him, but he reached out, straightening your beanie. Spencer adjusted your hat, his fingers lingering on your soft scarf for a moment longer than he meant to. He couldn't help but notice how adorable you looked. The freezing air and his adrenaline kept his mind from racing, for once. He wanted to say so much, but for once, his mind was blank. A snowflake landed on his nose, and you had the impossible urge to kiss it. "Come on, I'll get you a cup of cocoa," you offered instead, getting to your feet and offering your arm to help him up.

Spencer looked up at you as you stood above him, offering your hand to help him up. He took it and hauled himself to his feet, brushing the snow from his coat. "Cocoa sounds pretty great right now," he agreed, trying not to pay too much attention to the fact that you didn't let go of his hand right away, your fingers laced through his.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #bau team #spencer reid imagine

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anashins · 2 years ago

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Seeds of Pomegranates

Pairing: god!Jaehyun x human!reader

Genre: Hades x Persephone reimagining, dark romance, hate to love, slow burn, smut

Word Count: 29.5k

Warnings: morally grey characters

Summary: The day the god of the underworld steals you away, he expects to have found a timid wife to make his isolated life more bearable. Little does he know that the rose he picked from the garden called earth bears knives instead of thorns, and he might not have found a timid wife, but a queen with a heart as dark as his.

A/N: Hi guys! Months worth of rewriting and editing is finally finished! This story grew very dear to me since this is my first plot based on greek mythology, and I took my sweet time for the world building. Thus, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

The day the god of the underworld stole you away from earth, he didn’t only steal your body, but your soul too.

You were watering the flowers in the garden behind your small house before he did it. It was the first day of spring, the sun rays only slowly starting to feel warm and pleasant on the tip of your nose. Your plants were reluctantly awakening after months of hiding under a thick blanket of icy snow, but you were determined to make them flourish and blossom in all colors again. Your mother always said you had a magic touch for making flowers grow even from concrete, and every year you proved to her that she was right.

From the kitchen window that stood ajar, you smelled the delicious stew she was currently cooking with the help of your little sister, prepared from the self harvested vegetables that had survived this long winter. You were already looking forward to lunch - of which you were blissfully unaware you wouldn’t be able to join at that time.

When the watering can was slowly emptying, only droplets still coming out, you arose from your crouching position with the intention to walk over to the well and refill it one last time. Overhearing your sister placing the plates and cutlery on the table, you assumed the stew was finally ready, so you hurried with your steps to finish your labor quickly.

If you had known that the last words you directed at your mother and sister before leaving the house would have been “I’ll be back soon!”, would you have chosen other ones? Perhaps something with a deeper message like “I’ll always love you” or “I’ll be fine”? But you hadn’t known, so they were left with the promise that you’d eventually return from wherever you vanished to that day.

Even though you didn’t know yourself whether you would ever be able to see them again.

Lowering the bucket into the well, it never came to reach the water’s surface. Suddenly, it felt like the entire world came crashing down on you. Deafening noise replaced the birds’ singing and chirping that had accompanied you until now. You panicked and raised your head, looking over to the house where you wanted to make sure that nothing was happening to your family as the soil beneath your feed started to shake too.

Gathering your skirts around your hips, you prepared yourself to sprint, but as you were about to set one foot aside, there was nothing to support your body anymore in front of you. The ground under you was split, entirely gone, and only darkness gaping at you from beneath. You let out a scream and stepped away, rescuing yourself to the other side of the cleft.

Having no idea where this earthquake came from as they were unusual for this part of the world, you only thought about saving your mother and sister. But as you looked over to the house again, it still stood there, solid, steady and seemingly unmoving. And then, it was gone. Not because it fell into a crater like the one that had split in front of you, but because you fell into one that had opened up between your legs, forcing them apart.

Realizing the danger of the situation too late, there was no possibility for you to save yourself anymore as you fell right into the gap, into darkness, with a long lasting scream.

So, this was how you died, you thought.

____

You had dreamed of your mother and your little sister. Only the three of you, sitting at the lunch table, eating the delicious stew the two had prepared upon your return from the garden. You were chattering and laughing together as always, as though nothing had changed. But it wasn’t real, only a dream in which you wanted to linger a bit longer.

Silent tears had streamed down your closed eyes that were now dried around the rims and which you still refused to open. The surface on which you were lying felt a little too comfortable, almost like a soft mattress. A thick blanket was pulled over your body as well so that you didn’t freeze. You were able to move your fingers, feeling every breather your chest drew as though reminding you that you were very much still alive and not dead like you had assumed.

Eventually, you had to force your lids open. Dim light coming from lit candles immersed the dark room in which you were situated in a soothing atmosphere. Though the term “room” was an understated description for the place in which you found yourself. The closet-like space back at home which you shared with your sister could be called a room, but this was way bigger than your entire house, including the garden, and way more. This was an entire suite.

You braced yourself against what truly turned out to be a soft mattress on a huge bed that was thrice the size of your own, the posts towering you on each edge and connecting over your head in a net of purple velvet. The bed was made of black marble glistening in the flickering candlelight coming from the golden chandeliers, and only then you noticed that the entire room was forged from this luxurious, dark material.

To your right, you spotted two high pointed windows that reached to the vaulted ceiling with interlaced arches, but the view was hidden by curtains made of the same purple velvet that was hanging over your bed. The suite was decorated with long, golden mirrors and stucco of the same color, and to your left, you found a long closet stretching across the entire wall as well as a dressing table.

Before you could inspect the place further, a knock on the door made you gasp out loud and slide to the far end of the bed. You were at a loss about what had happened to you, where you currently were, why you were here. Had you, inexplicably, survived the earthquake and been rescued by someone?

You nearly didn’t dare look when the doors opened and in walked a girl, most likely a bit younger than you, dressed all in black with a golden tray in her hands. She was very pale, but the color of her skin stood in contrast to her dark hair and garments of the same color, the smile around her lips inviting, kind, and genuine.

“Good morning, mistress, you’re already awake!” she chirped in a cheerful voice.

It was morning already? For how long have you slept? “Good morning,” you croaked, startled by your own, hoarse voice. “Where am I?”

“At my master’s palace.” She put the tray on top of the mattress, right next to you. There, you spotted a bowl filled with what appeared as porridge. “I came to bring you breakfast, mistress. After that, I’ll help you bathe and get dressed.”

“What for?” You furrowed. If anything, you wanted to leave right away to return home. “And please, I’m not a mistress.”

“To meet my master, he’s already waiting,” was the girl’s simple answer. “And as a guest of this household, you’re formally our mistress.”

At that moment, it made sense to you. Of course you would need to express your gratitude to the person who saved you from the earthquake, it was only polite. Then, you could return home, so you gave a nod to confirm your agreement despite being addressed as a mistress still not sitting right with you. You would act along for today.

“What’s your name?” you asked the girl as she put the tray on your lap, taking the spoon into your hand and dipping it into the porridge.

For a guest suite so big, the breakfast was very simple, plain even, you silently remarked. The oats were made with water, not milk, so the flavor wasn’t very rich as they also hadn’t been seasoned with sugar or cinnamon. But again, you didn’t want to be ungrateful and enjoyed what was offered to you.

“It’s Ara, mistress.”

The title sounded so bizarre to your ears. You were a simple girl from a small village, not someone who usually resided at such a place.

“Ara, I would love to meet your master and express my gratitude. Take me to him.”

“Very well, mistress.”

____

After taking a bath in a room that wasn’t less luxurious as the one in which you had slept, with a tub made of the same dark marble that reminded you of onyx, Ara dressed you in a tame, but beautiful long-sleeved dress made of pastel pink silk that flowed down your body and fitted perfectly. During the process, you noted that you hadn’t caught any bruises or scratches from the fall, and you nearly started to question your sanity if falling into that crate had even happened at all. Miraculously, you had survived unscathed.

With cautious steps, you followed Ara along the dark corridor lit up by candles, the dark yet lavish theme of the place also present here. It didn’t take you long to find out that this wasn’t a mansion, but an entire palace you had only read about in books. For someone who had grown up in a small, rundown house, it couldn’t quite fit in your imagination how big a palace like this one must be as you rounded corners and passed by more corridors with walls you had to bend your neck to see them end. There were no windows open, all blacked out by the velvet curtains despite it being morning apparently, light coming only from the elaborate candelabras.

You wondered how far from home you had been found as you had never encountered someone passing by a palace like this close to you, so fascinating yet intimidating. Surely, news must have broken out like wildfire already since village people devoured gossip like no one else, especially when it was about something as lavish as the owner of this palace. You were eager to find out and request an escort home.

Ara eventually stopped in front of a heavy door after you had nearly clumsily flown down a stairwell. On your way to here, you hadn’t encountered a single other person. It was quite a huge residence for someone to call it a home to themselves only. You didn’t know what to make of this odd place.

“My master awaits you.”

As the door opened, you found yourself standing in front of a purple carpet that led into a grand hall. The carpet shaped a long aisle with swaths of the same colors on the walls, interrupted by golden candelabras. The windows, spaced every few feet, were taller than most homes you had seen, and the high ceilings as well as arches were just as extravagantly forged.

And there, on a dais at the end of the aisle, raised a pompous throne, tapering at the top in spikes and forming sword-like adornments that were divided by a skull in the very middle of it.

On the throne itself was seated a tall figure.

The master.

“Please come in,” he called out to you.

Even though you were still at the other side of the hall, you heard him clearly, a voice so low, it could haunt your dreams, but also so melodic, it could lure you to listen to its owner for an eternity as well. The latter was what drew you closer as the door magically shut behind you without physical force.

He was possibly the most beautiful man you had ever seen, and even this didn’t do a description justice, you thought to yourself as you stood in front of the dais after a long, silent walk toward it, eyeing the master hopefully, almost imperceptibly. In your small village, you had encountered many beautiful people on their journey across the lands, but even the most handsome ones didn’t come close to the man opposite of you.

Other-worldly, on the other hand, was spot on to describe his appearance. His hair was blacker than a crow’s feather, falling elegantly into his forehead and nape, his skin fairer than winter snow, and his dark eyes clearer than morning dew. He was everything you knew and way more than that, nearly impossible to fathom in human words.

His right leg hung loosely over the throne’s armrest, his elbow propped against the left one as though he was bored, but you didn’t miss the attention and slight wariness in his gaze. He was donned in a black jacket and black trousers with gold embellishments that ended in boots of the same shade. The attire rustled when he settled in a proper seating position and leaned forward as though to examine you. Only then you noticed the black crown that ended in spikes sitting on top of his head and nearly meshing seamlessly with his dark hair.

Having almost forgotten your manners, you quickly gathered your composure, suppressing your reverence for his appearance, and did a curtsey. “I apologize for having let you wait for so long… master. I wanted to express my gratitude for the rescue and for giving me shelter in your home.” You caught him raising a brow when you looked back up to him.

He slowly repeated two words, “Rescue? Shelter?”

You were just as perplexed, but explained your situation calmly, suspecting there might have been a miscommunication from your side, “For having saved me after I fell into the crater during the earthquake. I am deeply indebted to you and will do anything in my power as a peasant to repay what you have done for me. But first, and I want to apologize beforehand for being so bold, I ask to return home and make sure that my mother and sister are well.”

“I haven’t rescued you.” Smoothly, he set both his feet on the dais’ surface and leaned back again as though more relaxed now, “It was me who tore the earth apart to get you.”

A shudder ran down your spine and you took a step back. Surely, you must have misheard. “W-what do you mean by that? I don’t understand.”

He rose from his throne, now standing even taller and higher above you, and you grew more intimidated than you already were, bracing yourself to flee as an eerie feeling settled in your stomach.

“This is the underworld, my kingdom.” Pause. “And you’re going to be my wife.”

____

You were running as fast as your feet were able to carry you. Somewhere along the way, you had lost your slippers, but you didn’t mind your bare soles touching the ground in passing as long as you could find an exit. But there was none. With the long skirts flowing between your legs and your hair getting lifted up by each movement, you ran along the apparent endless corridors, but every door you opened led you into another, empty room, regardless of the floor and part of the palace you ended up in.

There was no exit, there was only darkness.

Exhausted and having to support yourself against the cold wall, you gasped for air, your lungs hurting as you had been trying to escape for too long already. From the window, a soft breeze found its way in, but you didn’t dare to pull the curtains aside, scared of what you would find behind them.

He was the god of the underworld, he had said.

You had heard many people in your village and visitors talking about these deities, worshiping them even, despite no one having met one once. Except for… you vaguely remembered an elderly woman journeying through the country once and passing by your house as well. She wanted to spread the news that she had been abducted by the god of the sea when she was younger, but your mother only closed the door in front of her face. Now you wondered whether she had been right all along as you just couldn’t wake up from this nightmare.

With a start, when you were able to stand on your own feet without feeling on the brink of fainting from exhaustion again, you pried apart the curtains and were surprisingly delighted to meet with light.

But this feeling evaporated very quickly as you gazed into the distance. The landscape was the greatest contrast to your home country that shone with green fields, towering trees, scentful flowers and golden crops. What dominated the scenery here were rolling plains, mostly treeless with the exception of a few clustered pines. Beneath the sky, everything was tinged in a reddish hue, varying from light orange to crimson. Your field of vision was constrained by a gray mountain range so high, the sharp tops ending in red clouds that were so thick and heavy that no light of any sort was coming through. What caused the red lightning though, you couldn’t see.

When you lowered your head, you discovered you were currently on one of the top floors of this dark palace that was built in a foreign, but impressive way. It was a complex, rich system of forts, bastions and towers with sharp tops that sparkled in the reflection of the red lighting and melded with the clouds of the same shade. The building ended several dozen meters below you on a bridge that crossed a vibrant sapphire blue river.

So there was a way out of this palace.

“This is my kingdom and as my wife, it will become yours too.”

You flinched upon hearing his voice, not daring to turn around to him. You hadn’t even heard him approaching, when he had caught up to you. If he was the god of the underworld, what kind of power did he possess? You weren’t sure whether you ever wanted to find out.

“This will never become my home.” When you finally faced him, you were sure passion and resistance flickered in your eyes almost as intensely as the sky behind you. Fear was not a term familiar to you now as you cared more about your remaining family. “And I will never become your wife. I demand my freedom right now!”

He sighed as though he was the one in the right to get annoyed. “I fear I might not be able to do that.”

“You brought me here without my consent, you tore me away from my family, you robbed me off my life,” you spat, “and you’re expecting that I’m going to stay?”

“Even gods cannot defy godly rules.” He stepped closer to the window, but this time, you didn’t withdraw, indicating that he didn’t have such an effect on you. When he stood next to you, tall and mighty, his presence radiating a threatening aura, you still didn’t waver in your position, the growing resentment replacing apprehension. “When a human comes to the underworld, they cannot return on their own.”

“Am I-?!” You gasped.

He only snickered dryly as he looked out of the window. “You’re very far from being dead. You’re still very much alive.”

“Then I can go back,” you whispered more to yourself, this enlightenment getting your hopes up. You would find a way, with or without his permission.

He might be a god, but he didn’t own you. He might have stolen you from your home, but he hadn’t taken control of your mind, or your body. You were still you, and you would use all of your remaining strength, mentally and physically, to reunite with your family on earth.

The god shifted his head as though catching your silent mantras, looking down at you with an expression almost so unreadable, it seemed on the verge of indifference even. “There is a way. But do you really think I will let you go after I did everything in my power and beyond that just to get you?”

Stretching out his hand, he grabbed your chin, and despite all the twisting and turning that you did, you weren’t able to wind yourself out of his grip. You bared your teeth, hissing under your breath, “I’m not a possession you can decide over. If you won’t let me go, I will do it myself!”

He jerked you towards him with his grip and you let out a squeal that sounded far more worrisome than you had wanted to let slip. But as he had you in control with only his fingers, you couldn’t defy the terrified feeling anymore that settled deep in your bones. It showed all in your eyes when he locked gazes with you, his look the total opposite of yours, stern and determined.

Bringing his lips to your ear, the god whispered, “Try, and we’ll see what happens.”

When his breath hit your skin, you shuddered. But not in a fearful, dreading way as his grip didn’t hurt at all. Goosebumps formed on the spot around your ear, running down to your shoulder and all along your arm, betraying your own body in what you should actually feel right now.

He let you go with a slight smile, observing you from head to toe as though he was able to read your body language. Then, he turned around and left, disappearing into the darkness of the corridor.

Rage took over this slight moment of irritation when he was gone, making you kick candelabras out of your way, tearing curtains apart and screaming at the underworld that the opened windows revealed: death, isolation and endless darkness.

And then, despair replaced fury and you broke down crying by the window, calling after your mother and sister.

____

“Mistress, you need to eat something.”

Ara placed a bowl of the same, plain oatmeal next to you on the bed that you, for the third day in a row, refused to eat. You had lost all your appetite, spending day and night in what had been assigned to be your bedroom, sleeping and weeping. Though day and night didn’t differ much from each other down here as you had figured. The days consisted of threatening red sky, the nights of dangerous darkness.

“You also have to change your clothes, mistress. I selected a few from the closet.”

“Why won’t he let me go home?” you whispered, turning to the window side away from her and watching the red sky fade into the black one as one single tear slowly rolled down your cheek. “Why do I need to stay here?”

“Once you’re here, it’s not so easy to go home, mistress. Almost impossible even.”

“Then why did he bring me here in the first place?” Your voice was hoarse from all the crying the days before, hair greasy and sticking to your skin, eyes puffy and swollen. “I’ve always tried so hard to be a good girl again. Do I still deserve this? Is this my very own punishment?”

“I don’t know what you mean, mistress, but it’s odd,” Ara stated nearly absent-mindedly, “the way you humans think. There are humans who would do anything to get into the godly realms, demanding entry into a harem or only bearing the child of one. You’re the first I encounter who doesn’t want all this.”

“What do those humans expect from this?”

“Endless satisfaction, glory and youth, mistress. In the godly realms, you cannot age.”

You chuckled bitterly. “Of course.”

“Doesn’t this sound alluring to you too?” Ara wanted to know with genuine curiosity. “My master would be willing to offer you anything you want.”

“Absolutely not,” you instantly refused. “Having all your beloved ones die one after another until you’re all alone… for eternity? I wouldn’t be able to live like that, possessing all that richness but not what’s most important to me. The only thing I want is my family, nothing else.”

Ara fell into silence. “I don’t have a family, so I cannot relate. It’s nice to meet someone who adores their family though and doesn’t want to unalive them like most gods.”

“I’m sorry.” You turned back around to her. “What happened to your family?”

“Nothing.” She was smiling again. “I’m an ordinary sprite with no powers, I don’t know where I originate from. That’s what we all are here… powerless in our nature, so we end up in a serving position. But I’m not sad about it. I have a purpose for eternity, it’s better than wandering around with no direction.”

You watched Ara spreading out the dresses on the huge bed. They were all in your favorite pastel colors, the color of the flowers that bloomed in your mother’s garden, the material so luxurious and soft upon touching the hem with your finger tips, you were sure you would have never been able to afford even one dress under normal circumstances.

If this was Ara’s only purpose in life, who were you to refuse her offer? A simple favor for someone who had been taking care of you, nothing more. Perhaps, changing your clothes after three days wasn’t a bad idea either. You sat up and inspected each dress in detail while asking,

“You said humans demand entry to the godly realms, Ara. Where are they? The people in the harem here, for example.”

Given the possibility of staying young and wandering around in these rich clothes forever, living a lush lifestyle, you could very well imagine that other humans would do anything to be in your position now. But you weren’t one of those, you didn’t care about luxury, goods and money.

“My master doesn’t have a harem, mistress, nor do other mortals live here in his palace. It’s only us, other houseworkers and servants.”

“Oh. I was expecting…” You didn’t know what you had expected, but you weren’t surprised either. The darkness in this kingdom wasn’t very inviting to live in until eternity after all.

“How about this dress, mistress?” Ara held up a light blue gown made of silk with long, almost translucent sleeves and cut-out in the back. You had never worn something as daring but also as beautiful as this. “I will bathe you and do your hair the way you prefer.”

“What would I need it for?” Only now you noticed that your stomach was growling. Although plain oats didn’t smell deliciously tempting, your body was telling you that you desperately needed to be fed. You already saw yourself giving in to your needs and devouring the oatmeal.

“To meet with my master,” Ara replied as though a given, and you froze.

“No!” you protested, causing her to flinch at your loud erupt. “Tell him I’m not going to meet up with him nor do I ever want to see him again! Even if I die here, I don’t ever want to see him again. I will find a way out myself and I will escape from this place. This, you can tell him.”

“My master assumed that you’d react this way, so he wants you to know that if you meet up with him tonight, he will tell you how your family is doing.”

Your stomach hollowed and not only from hunger as dread filled the empty space and your fingers gripped the sheets, tensely. You suddenly felt so sick at the thought of what he could do to your family out there if he really was so powerful. Would it now always be like this? That he would threaten and you had to comply for the sake of your beloved ones’ safety?

“Fine.”

In the bathroom, where Ara gently scrubbed your skin with oil that smelled of meadows, massaged your scalp in calming rhythms and washed your hair with white foam, you broke out in tears again, but she didn’t say a word and let you cry in silence. At home, bathing was a luxury you were only able to enjoy once a week in a small wooden basin.

Your homesickness came in waves, especially in the evenings when you missed the warm body of your little sister pressed into you from behind, the bed way too small for the both of you, but she was always refusing to sleep at your mother’s side on the bigger mattress as she felt too old for that already.

When Ara dried your body and hair, you were still weeping, but her careful yet comfortable treatment made it all a bit more bearable.

____

“Have a seat, little rose.”

The god was seated at the head on the far end of the long table, and although your set of plate and cutlery were placed right next to his, you seated yourself on a chair opposite of him where you were the farthest away. Immediately, a servant came by to relocate the tableware.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Don’t you like that name?” he asked, arrogantly feigning offense. “I think it matches very well with you. A flower from earth, looking and smelling so beautifully, but bearing sharp thorns that she’s not afraid to use.”

At first, you were confident to interpret his words as an insult, but when you repeated them in your head once more, you weren’t sure whether they leaned more towards a compliment as there was something in his tone that gave the impression, and it irritated you very much.

“Why have you moved away from me?” The god leniently crossed his hands behind his head and leaned back on his chair, no crown adorning his hair this time. “You don’t have to be afraid. If I wanted to hurt you, you would surely not sit here now, invited to dine with me.”

“Afraid?” You frowned at him and lifted your chin. “I’m not afraid of you. I just don’t want to be near you for your own sake, in case I want to stab you. Though depending on what you have to tell me about my family, I can’t guarantee it won’t still happen.”

Amusement played around the god’s lips in the form of a smug smile, your answer apparently surprising him entirely. “You’re a very interesting one, little rose, I must admit.”

“Is that why I’m here? Because you find me interesting?”

The servant placed a napkin on your lap, causing your mouth to water already. You were dreaming of a feast consisting of meat, potatoes, vegetables and fruits. At home, those things were rarely served together, but you assumed that in a palace as huge as this, it was something you could look forward to for dinner.

In such a rare moment, you allowed yourself to be greedy. Mutedly begging for apology, you thought that if it stayed in your head only like all the other things you had sinned for, it wouldn’t taint your image anymore. Nobody had to know if you didn’t voice it out or act on it obviously.

“I find many things interesting.” The god snipped his fingers and you flinched. “But boring humans don’t belong to that category.”

“Yet, you stole one of these boring humans away to make her your bride.”

The next moment, another servant opened the door and brought in two bowls, one placed in front of him, the other in front of you. You were trying your best to hide your disappointed expression, but were sure that you failed when you saw what was in the bowl: plain porridge like the past few days and what you had nipped on shortly before. And

“Others would trade everything they have to be in your place now.”

Your fingers hovered over the cutlery, but you withdrew them again, not wanting to give in yet, despite your stomach making demanding noises that mustn’t have passed by the god himself. Either this was his way of subtly punishing you while you were residing here, but that wouldn’t explain why he didn’t eat something else in front of you. Or this was the only food served in the underworld. Neither assumption satisfied you.

“I’m not like others. I’m not a boring simpleton. I have responsibilities, a family to take care of. How can I reside here in peace when my family cannot even afford a life without me?”

“Because now they can,” he replied simply.

You tilted her head in confusion. “What?”

“Let me assure you that your family has been taken care of. The day I brought you here, they were greatly supplied with a chest consisting of pure gold that will last them their lifetime and the generations after them.”

You shuddered visibly, having no intention to pay weight to his words. “That’s not the main reason. How am I supposed to reside in this palace and live carefreely when I cannot be certain my family is healthy and happy every day, when I’m not there to witness how they do without me?”

“Such a peculiar way of thinking, I have never encountered this before,” he carefully said. “The humans who trade and bargain with us gods just to get the same privileges as you never look back, not even the ones who hadn’t decided on their own to enter the godly realms. When they see what kind of lifestyle awaits them here, they fold instantly. But you aren’t so selfish. You’re right. You’re no ‘such’ mortal. Maybe I shouldn’t have picked a flower with thorns like you, little rose.”

“Then set me free.” You glared at him across the table. “My family doesn’t care about gold or money. We just want to be together.”

He pursed his lips and sighed. “As I said, it’s difficult.”

“I don’t trust you,” you eventually pressed through gritted teeth, resting your fingers on the edge of the bowl, then pushing the porridge away from you. “I don’t believe anything you say.”

He leaned forward and propped his elbows on the table in preparation to speak with his attention only on you. “I have no reason to lie to you, but I also won’t force you to trust me. I’m just telling you that I understand if you’re wary, considering the circumstances.”

“Then tell me why you keep me captured,” you demanded again, suppressing your surprise over his honesty.

“And then you will eat?” You didn’t understand why he even cared in the first place if the porridge wasn’t poisoned, but agreed with a slight nod just to get the reply out of him. “Fine. You’re here, because I need a wife to keep me company. I can offer you everything a female human could ever dream of - a luxurious home with endless space, dresses in all colors under the rainbow, delicious food that doesn’t even grow on earth, and gold to fulfill all your further needs.”

You gulped visibly, but held his gaze. So the porridge truly was punishment only, physically and emotionally. “That’s… that’s all?”

He shrugged, not touching his bowl either, you noticed. “Truth to be told, I thought it would be easier according to the stories I’ve been told. Other gods own harems full of humans who live lavish lifestyles until all eternity.”

“So I heard,” you retorted, utterly grossed out.

“I also admit that, apparently, I know nothing about humans.” A smile tugged on the corner of his lips that quickly evaporated again. Or had it only been in your imagination? “Certainly not about ones like you.”

You cocked a brow. “Humans like me?”

“Strong-willed, demanding, determined. Either I am very lucky in choosing you as my wife. Or rather unfortunate. We’re going to figure it out, right?”

“Again, I am not going to be your wife.” When he didn’t make a move to add something, you asked, “That’s all? That’s why I’m here? Because you needed a wife and I was just… there?”

Frankly, the god apparently didn’t know what else to tell you, what you wanted to hear from him. Did you know yourself, though? What kind of explanation did you expect to make you understand your current situation better?

“That’s all.”

With a start, you jumped out of your seat, the chair making squealing noises as you pushed it along the marbled floor. You glared at him so deathly, it would possibly make every other god fear your presence. But he didn’t budge.

“I’d rather die.”

____

“My master wanted me to bring you here, because he assumed you would feel a bit better in an environment resembling your home.”

A few more days had passed without you having to meet the god again, plain porridge being brought by Ara directly to your room, assuring you that real food was still being withheld from you, but you also didn’t want to ask and cave. You weren’t crying every day anymore, either because there were no tears left or because you knew it was for vain.

You hadn’t entirely given up though. The god and Ara both had implied that there was a way for you to return. Even if it might be almost impossible, almost was not entirely. But if neither of them were going to tell or show you how, you would rather figure it out yourself than sit here in captivity and boredom if either possibility would result in you not seeing your family ever again.

So it was a lucky coincidence that Ara had brought you to the palace’s garden, and you would lie if you said that you weren’t in the least bit impressed about it, because it had everything you had ever dreamed of growing and tending back at home.

You stood there, on green grass with your fine slippers, feeling every soily bump beneath your soles, and what you encountered amazed you very much. Patterned throughout the grass were different paths made of cobblestone, passing by rose bushes, colorful flower beds, perfectly trimmed hedges and marble statues that all came together in the middle of the location where a fountain made of limestone stood out, water splashing all around.

“This is magnificent!” you called out and followed the path that led to the center, the entire colorful and playful setting building a stark contrast to the red sky, but this was what made it insanely beautiful too, you had to admit. “I didn’t know something would be able to grow here!” Since you had been brought to the underworld, there was finally something that remotely awoke interest inside of you and let you push your pain and despair to the back of your head only for a little while.

“Contrary to popular belief, we can also grow fruits and vegetables here. See?”

Ara pointed at a tree that you were passing, red pomegranates hanging from the branches. After weeks of nearly tasteless porridge that was supposed to break your iron will, only the image of the crimson seeds caused your mouth to water immediately. They had been withholding this from you all along? The things you would have done just to taste something different were unimaginable, and you stretched out your hand, reaching for the fruit. You were just so hungry…

“Careful!” Ara warned you.

You reclined your hand, alarmed. “What is it?”

“Seven seeds.” A manly vice from behind you let you jump. “Seven seeds only, and you’ll be stuck here forever. Take one and you won’t be able to stop, because they taste so ungraspable wonderfully on a human tongue. Everything growing in the underworld will bind you to this realm and you will never be able to return to earth ever again.” The god walked towards you both and Ara did a curtsy while you refused to copy her greeting. “Thank you for bringing her here, you’re dismissed, Ara.”

You were petrified when a thought slowly sank in while the servant left you both alone. “But I’ve been eating-”

“Mortal food all along,” the god clarified. Today, he was dressed more casually and wasn’t wearing a crown like the last time you had met, you silently remarked. “That’s why you were served plain oats only. At least they always taste the same. Everything else we bring down here from earth rots right away. They’re living things, not made for death.”

You looked at the pomegranate tree, then back at him. You had been served porridge from your first day on before you even met, and a few days ago, he had been served the same dish as you, hadn’t he? Why? “You could have easily fed me these all along, and I wouldn’t have known. Why haven’t you?”

“I decide over the fates of the dead humans, not the living. I guess I always wanted to give you a choice, no matter how slim this chance might be. Deep inside, I assume I just couldn’t take someone against their will entirely.” His honesty bewildered you. That was not what he had indicated the first time you talked. “Even if you’re a human, you always have a choice. Even now you do.”

“I haven’t been given the choice whether I wanted to come down here,” you spoke monotonously, shaking off the expression he directed at you that nearly bordered sympathy.

The god lifted his hand and plucked a pomegranate from the tree. Twisting it apart and presenting the red seeds in equal halves to you, your tongue instantly lusted after the taste of the fruit’s delicious flesh. You had only tasted pomegranate seeds once in your life, back then when you had saved enough money to buy a half from a piepowder. But you still remembered that moment very well, because it was so special.

“I was probably too naive as I have never been to the mortal world myself. I could only rely on what the other gods told me, and they all said the same thing.”

“Which was?” You averted your eyes from the pomegranate halves before you went insane from hunger.

“That humans would do anything to live in the godly realms, leeching off everything they were offered, such as luxury and eternal youth. That humans are simpletons you could control, could do anything with.” He clearly saw you gulping, which was probably why he quickly added, “But I only wanted a wife, so I took my sweet time making a decision that day. A wrong and hasty decision after all, as it turned out that I’m the simpleton here.” He plucked the seeds from the pomegranate halves and placed them into his hand. You counted seven. Then, he squeezed his palm together, red juice dripping from his fingers onto the soil, staining it like blood. “You better make sure not to go near these in case your craving makes you go crazy.”

To weigh yourself in better safety, you turned your face away from him. “How do I get away from here? Tell me.”

The god drew in a sharp breath. “Someone must get you. Someone from earth must come down here and take you back.”

You got a feeling you didn’t want to know the details to that “And how would they do that?”

To that, he didn’t seem to have a specific answer. “I cannot tell you as I don’t know exactly myself. I heard that there are ways humans can actually summon certain gods, and depending who they are able to reach, they might help if they’re in the mood. The god of the sea demands a human offering for example, but the god of the wind on the other hand just doesn't want his mortal companion to speak a single word all the way to our realms.”

“Why would they do that to humans?” you called out in frustration. “That’s madness!”

“To bargain with a god is a very dangerous game that they love to play all day long. Humans are pawns to them, a mere distraction to their boring lives.” A touch of snideness swung with his explanation that you couldn’t classify yet and thus dismissed.

“And what would you demand to bring humans here if you don’t take them against their will?”

The god rolled his pupils, his patience seemingly still not wearing out while you just wouldn’t let go of this topic when he replied full with regained composure, “Nobody ever did that, it’s quite not possible since my kingdom is separated from the mortal realms. But the gods of the elements or other parts of the earth are always there.”

“So that means… My mother and my sister have to find their own way to come down here. And depending on who they can reach out to, they either face an impossible quest or death?”

“Not very positively worded, but right.” He shrugged. “I guess so. Of course this applies to any human who would search for you, not only to them.”

“And before that happens, I will need to stay here?”

“That’s correct.”

When you sucked in a rush of air, he braced himself for an outburst, but you only asked with a threatening calmness, “Why me?”

For such a question, the god apparently wasn’t prepared well enough. And even if… you were sure his answer wouldn’t have changed from the following dissatisfying one, “As I said, I was given the chance to wander the earth for a day and choose a wife.”

“That’s not what I meant. I asked ‘Why me?’ What did I do? Why not someone else?”

For the first time, you got the impression that you had taken him off guard as he raised his brows, not to talk back haughtily, but because he was genuinely confused and didn’t know how to answer. “Why… you? I can’t exactly say why you…”

“So, the fact that I’m here is merely a coincidence?” There was a sharp edge to the way you uttered these words, and you nearly felt sorry. Nearly.

“I wouldn’t say that,” he patiently defended himself in that situation. “It was still my own decision. But the reason…”

“Be quiet! I have never been given a choice!” You laid your palms flat against his chest, pushing him away from you while anger burned beneath your skin like fever. He stumbled backwards although he could fight you easily. But he didn’t. “You have robbed me of that decision the day you stole me away! You have only fed me mortal food to satisfy your own conscience, but I have never been given a choice in the first place! Don’t talk to me like you actually respect humans, because you don’t!”

You saw him startled as if he were human too, a natural, human reaction, and that fueled your anger even more. “But if someone comes to-”

“Nobody will come to get me!” you yelled. “Nobody will come, because my mother and sister aren’t able to! I only have them, no one else! I’ll be stuck here, and all because of you! I have no free will! You have chosen the only human with no choice at all!”

You spun around on your heel and left the garden with him not following suit. And you were glad about it as the first tears started to fall again.

______

You spent your days restlessly wandering through the entire palace and the connecting garden, with no real destination other than the intention of wanting to make time pass in hope something life-alternating would happen. But it never did.

You rarely saw the god and you were grateful for that, only remaining in contact with Ara and the other servants. But despite them trying their best, they weren’t able to fill the gap your family had left. With each passing day, the hole inside of you grew larger. And with each passing day, you wondered how much bigger it must still grow until it made you end this once and for all.

Once again, you were standing in the garden, listening to the stream while having to watch the god cross the bridge every morning and evening to ride somewhere past the horizon as you started to notice a few days ago. You had never asked him about where he was going even though you were very curious about what laid beyond the river. If you wanted to find out though…

“I wouldn’t even think about it,” you heard an unknown male voice talk behind you that wasn’t as deep as this palace’s owner. “That’s the river of oblivion. Once you fall into it, you forget where you are, what you are and first and foremost… who you are.”

You spun around and encountered a man only a bit shorter than the god of this place with flaming, dark red hair, donned in all black with golden embellishments. You had never seen him here before, and his glamorous garments as well as sophisticated and elegant aura gave away that he was not a servant, but of a much higher status and with much power.

“Jaehyun told me that he had taken in a human to make his wife, so I wanted to see her myself.”

Jaehyun… In comparison to the god of this realm whose name was Jaehyun as you now knew, this person had a much friendlier appearance with a smile that was inviting and a voice that sounded playful. “And you are…?”

“The god of sun and light, and everything bright and pleasant. I’m very pleased to meet you, mistress.”

He stretched out his hand and took your fingers into his. Oddly, you didn’t withdraw but let him do so as you weren’t scared of him. After everything that had happened to you these past weeks, you felt numb to almost everything.

You sucked in a rush of air though as he lifted your hand and led it to his lips, pressing a kiss on our knuckles and causing you to gasp in surprise. It was not your first physical interaction with a man apart from your family, but the first with no ulterior motif from either side, a chaste and respectful gesture. You were taken aback and impressed at the same time.

“I must admit… if I were Jaehyun, I would have chosen you as well.”

You were flattered, but not impressed. “It doesn’t change the fact that I don’t like being here.”

“After all this time you still think like this?” He raised his brows. “I’m impressed. Every other mortal would have caved already.”

“Well… I’m not like them.”

“Obviously.” He tilted his head and smiled again. “Have you ever tried getting accustomed to this place? It’s not as boring as it looks like. Especially beyond the river. Even though I prefer the light, this darkness has something comforting, I must admit.”

“Enough, Taeyong,” another male voice cut through the air that you knew very well. “I didn’t invite you here today to put ideas into her head.”

“Even I see her potential, Jaehyun,” your new acquaintance talked back immediately. “Take her with you to the ha-”

“I said enough,” the god interrupted. “She has expressed more than once that she wants to go home, so if you don’t have a solution for that, I would rather have you stay quiet.”

“What is there?” you urged the sun god to speak, suddenly full of hope again. “What is beyond the river?”

But it was the underworld’s god that answered instead, “There is only death, so don’t even think about escaping through these lands. There is no way you will make it out there alive all by yourself.”

And with that, the topic was closed as he disappeared with the sun god back into the palace, leaving you behind in wonder about what there still was to this realm that you had to unravel. If you wanted to unravel that.

Later that evening, you caught Taeyong intending to leave through the main entrance, luckily all by himself. You jumped out from your den, causing him to nearly get a heart attack judging by the way he leapt back with a scream, and asked with a hushed voice,

“What is beyond the river of oblivion?”

Your fingers grabbed the sleeves of his shirt, and he leaned in to you, replying with an equally low tone, “He’s right, there is only death. But that is probably what you are looking for.”

And with another smile, he left through the gates, having opened up more questions than actually having answered one.

____

“Where are you going?”

Jaehyun cocked his head to the side on his way out of the palace when he got surprised by you in the entrance hall the next day. “Underworld duties.”

“Take me with you,” you demanded, noticing that he was formally dressed and wearing his crown again as always when he left the palace. “It’s where you always leave to, right? Take me with you.”

He frowned. “What?”

“You heard me very well. I want to come with you,” you repeated and approached him until you stood right in front of him, already fully dressed in a cloak that Ara had pulled out of the closet for you. “Take me with you.”

He looked down at you, then let out an ambiguous chuckle. “You think if I take you with me out there, you will find a way to escape? You can put that idea right out of your mind. As a mortal, there are more gruesome fates than falling into the river of oblivion that will await you when you roam out there freely all by yourself. This is the underworld, after all.”

It didn’t pass by you that he, for the first time, used the term ’mortals’, not ‘humans’, a fine but significant difference. You wondered whether not all gods and sprites and whatever creatures also resided here were immortal. And if he was immortal too.

It was as though he could read everything shooting through your mind at that moment. Skepticism, anger, disappointment, then again, hope. He had seen right through you. But perhaps not entirely though as there was something he hadn’t discovered yet: the slight seed of curiosity that had been planted by the god of sun yesterday.

What was beyond the river that you were supposedly looking for?

“Still,” you brought yourself to say and clenched your fists, moving your feet in restlessness. “Take me with you. What am I supposed to do here all day, all by myself?”

“No,” the god roared, deep and dominant, and you actually withdrew in response to his suppressed outburst. Regret turned visible in his expression as though he hadn’t intended to sound so harsh as he continued gentler, “No mortal has ever roamed the grounds of hell, and I won’t be the first one to allow one to do so.”

But you wouldn’t give in so easily. “Take me with you nonetheless!” You took a few steps forward until you stood right in front of him and with your fists, you now hammered against his chest. “Take. Me. With. You!”

Coming down at his strong muscles with your hands over and over again, it felt like striking against those palace stone walls, sharp pain shooting up to your shoulders with each forceful motion, and it made you even madder. You now screamed, wanting your way and letting your anger and despair all out - but he withstood it all.

Even when you exhausted yourself, you didn’t give up, even when your motions grew slower and sloppier, your breathing more irregular. That was until he caught your striking fists with his palms, stopping your rebelling behavior with a single grip, obviously fed up now. His hands were so big in comparison to yours, and so unexpectedly warm and strong too.

“You done?” the god asked relaxedly when you had finally stopped fidgeting.

You had your teeth bared, glaring at him, but you weren't physically fighting anymore. Your chest heaved up and down, in unison with his, and for a moment, you both had your gazes locked, surveying each other until a smile raised the corners of his mouth, and it wasn’t in the least bit mocking.

You became aware of the fact that the god was still holding your hands, but it was something entirely else from when the sun god had taken yours into his. They were both gestures with different intentions, but somehow, this one caused your cheeks to heat and change color, and additionally, your heart to skip half a beat.

With feigned disgust, you scowled and shook him off, then hid your arms behind your back in the safety of the cloak.

“I’ll get the horse prepared for two people.” The god looked at you for a second too long, which irritated you very much, then spun around. You didn’t know what had made him change his mind, but in the end, it didn’t matter. “Pull up the hood and make sure to protect your face at all times. The ride can get really dusty.”

As you followed him outside, there was a black-maned horse waiting for you both. You stood behind him, intimidated and amazed by the enormous animal at the same time.

“Immortal horses are fascinating, aren’t they?” he asked you. “Every god owns at least one divinely-bred.”

He swung upon the horse’s back after a servant had saddled it properly for two, moving backwards to leave more space in the front. The next moment, he had grabbed you by your waist and heaved you on the horse’s back like you weighed nothing. Luckily, your skirts were wide enough for you to settle your legs on either side of the animal.

The god then hauled you against his chest with one swift motion, his strong forearm pressed into your upper stomach. Before you could snap for air, he loosened his grip on you again, but left his hand resting right under your ribcage, always on the alert to secure your position if you tended to teeter too much to one side. You swallowed hard as the horse started galloping, and before you could notice, the both of you had already crossed the dangerous bridge with its eerie turquoise water, snippets flashing by that you only caught from the corner of your periphery under your wide hood.

You knew your attention shouldn’t be on the main rider’s free hand gripping hard on the reins that made his veins pop out and your thoughts spinning with fantasies you had never had of him before, but you couldn’t turn your thoughts away from it either. Pleasant goosebumps ran all down your spine whenever you lost your balance for a second and his strong arm around your middle reared you right back.

You didn’t want this. Of course, as a young woman, you had needs and also a fair share of past experiences, but none of it had ever surfaced since you were residing here.

Until now.

____

While you were riding along the rolling plains, you came to a terrifying solution: The redness of the sky didn’t come from the sun and neither from another natural source of light in the underworld that would resemble a planet back up there on earth. In fact, they came from fields far out there close to the horizon. These fields were burning, flames ascending to the sky whose tips you only witnessed when you passed and eventually came to a stop close by.

“These are the torture fields,” the god told you. “It’s where souls reside who I refuse to let be reborn. As you might have figured by now, it’s why our sky is always red. The flames never diminish, they only get concealed by the god of sky during night time upon my request.”

“Why did you request for him to conceal it?”

“The red sky reminds me of what I’m doing, what my destiny as the god of the underworld is. If I can request for a few hours of peace where I’m not reminded of the souls on the torture fields that I sent down there myself, that I am the one causing this red sky, I would do anything for it.”

It was the second time he willingly let you take a quick glance behind his facade, his cold and dark exterior. You wondered whether there was still way more you would need to discover. But would you really want to?

“What’s the fate of those on these torture fields?” you asked instead.

“Imagine the worst pain you’ve ever felt. Maybe you have once broken a bone or sustained a similar fracture. Now, that’s not even the full extent of pain a human is able to feel. Multiply it by a thousand. That’s close to the pain you have to endure day and night, for all eternity. Frightening, isn’t it?”

Frightening didn’t even come close to describe the lump in your throat right now. A cold shudder ran down your spine despite you putting much effort into not letting your true emotions slip. “Do they literally burn there on the fields?”

“Something like that, yes. If you listen carefully, little rose, you can even hear their screams. My palace is located too far away, but right now, we’re close enough to hear their faint noises.” He brought the horse to a halt and gave you a sign to remain silent as well. “Listen.”

You did. From the direction of the torture fields, you heard a feeble clamor as though someone was constantly pressing on a piano’s keyboard, and the tone never subsided. It was a very faint sound, but so eerie that it made the hair on your arms stand up. You imagined pain so gravely, you were never able to stop screaming in agony despite the exhaustion. For all eternity.

“Don’t worry, little rose,” the god reassured you, and you didn’t flinch when he soothingly nudged your side. It had something calming to it. “Someone like you won’t ever land on the torture fields.”

You wished you could believe him and gulped, hard. “What kind of souls would find their fate here?”

“Murderers mostly, to summon it up. But I decide over all their fates individually, so it might also be possible that someone has committed a grave crime that doesn’t include murder and still ends up on the torture fields. And vice versa.”

You had been holding in your breath and only noticed when you let out a rush of air. “I see.”

“Why are you so tense, little rose?” the god expressed his concern that seemed genuine to you. “Someone as pure as you and with a heart as strong as yours would surely get another chance at life.”

“You don’t know me,” you answered repellently, but didn’t shake off his hand that had magically found its way on your shoulder as though he wanted to comfort you physically like a human, but didn’t exactly know how. “You know nothing about me, you cannot tell.”

“That’s true. But I cannot imagine you being a human who deserves to experience endless torture, and I’ve been with my duties for way longer than I can remember.”

“Perhaps, there are times where even you will get surprised.” It was intended to be a joke, but your dry voice didn’t make the sentence sound like one, which was why you added a light, choking laughter.

“What could you have possibly done? Slept with someone before marriage? Screw that, just have fun. Stolen groceries? A peccadillo, nothing grave to be noted down, and even minuscule when you were poor and suffering from hunger. What else? Hurt someone? Most people only physically hurt when they feel threatened or have been hurt themselves before. I could tell you many, many more examples that won’t justify a destiny on the torture fields for you.”

You weren’t an appropriate girl in any sense as you had done all of the things he listed, and even many more. Feeling bound to your family for your whole life, you had never quite treasured your virginity until marriage like every other girl and had had way too much fun in the miller’s barn with his eldest son before you came here. Whenever you seemed short of groceries, you had developed a few tricks where letting fruits and vegetables slip into your bag during market visits always went unnoticed. And you randomly and happily thought back to the time you had once smacked a boy who had made fun of your sister and your situation.

And the god of the underworld wanted to tell you that these were all still justifiable?

“No human is untainted, free of sins, little rose,” he continued. “But that doesn’t make every person a bad one. As a matter of fact, the majority are good people, and I can sense them from a mile away. You’re not a bad person who deserves to endure agony for eternity.”

You rather let him believe for as long as he could.

Though he added, “Everything will come out in the hall of judgment anyway.”

“The hall of judgment?” you asked carefully.

“Where we’re headed to now. That’s where I comply with my duties as the god of the underworld.” As though he noticed your disarray, he added with an edge, “You wanted to come with me, right? So be prepared for that.”

Nothing could have prepared you for what was about to come next.

____

The hall of judgment was a massive cave rather than an actual hall in the semi-darkness of a mountain range that had the river of oblivion flow through. The hollowed ceiling was carried by large pillars merging seamlessly with the stony inside, a long carpet indicating the way. There were only several candles alit, the flames mirrored and broken in the river that threw the reflected lighting into all directions.

You were sitting next to the god on a throne of which you were unsure whether it had been there for your entire stay already as he had initially intended you to be his wife. Nonetheless, it made you feel inquisitive and intimidating at the same time, as though you didn’t belong there but couldn’t request being placed elsewhere either.

“This is where the souls face me, where I decide about their fate. And today, you will assist me,” the god explained after he had settled next to you.

“Assist you?” You weren’t repressed, but rather intrigued about what was going to happen here.

“You’re not going to watch me only, you’re going to judge yourself, whether you send a soul into the river of oblivion from where they will start a new life or send them to the torture fields for eternal pain.”

You frowned, full of suspicion whether you had heard right. “Pardon me? I will decide about their fate? Me?”

“Exactly,” he confirmed with a proud smile.

You raised a brow, but didn’t refuse instantly, to your very own surprise too. “How do I know what happened to them?”

“They will tell you.”

“And if they don’t speak the truth?”

“In the hall of judgment, you are only allowed to speak the truth, otherwise you cannot answer.”

You had many more questions, but since you had already delayed your arrival, you decided to remain silent and just watch. You trusted him to tell you what to do and when to do, and until then, you would only observe. To your clear surprise, a human in its physical shape walked in the next moment, a young boy, not even ten years of age just yet. Just like your sister.

“They all remain in their human form so as to not shock them,” the god explained quietly while the boy made its way towards you. “They will lose their physical shape once I make my judgment, but by then, they won’t remember anymore.”

Your expression changed from perplexity to empathy when you encountered the state the young boy was in, ragged clothes, no shoes. He explained that he came right from the streets, having lived there for a few years already.

The child was nervously kneading his wrinkled hat in his hands as he stuttered, “M-my father died overseas w-when I was only a baby. My- my mother was the sole one t-to get us through the first years. U-until we ran out of money. Sh-she died shortly after and I… I had to start living on the streets a-all by myself.”

“For how many years did you live on the streets?” you asked empathically, not knowing whether you were even allowed to, but it didn’t matter to you at this point. You felt so much sympathy for him, your heart ached.

The boy dropped his head. “Three years.”

You gasped inaudibly, not wanting to unsettle the boy. Instead, you forced yourself to smile, the sorrow undertone hidden by concealing happiness. “You did well. For your age, you did so well. You can be proud of yourself. Your mother surely is too.”

“C-can I ask how did I die?”

“You slept in peacefully and didn’t wake up,” you started, and the god frowned, but didn’t interrupt you, which you appreciated. ”It was really cold, but it didn’t bother you, because for you, it felt like a warm blanket that you got enveloped in. Perhaps, almost like the one in your former home with which your mom would tuck you in. Did you have something like that?”

With sparkles in his eyes, the boy nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I remember!”

“Very well. That moment, you dreamed back to your warm house where there were the three of you. You died peacefully, engulfed in a dream that felt like reality.”

The boy started crying, and you wanted to get up with the intention of offering him a comforting embrace, but the god’s hand latched out onto yours, holding you back. Locking your gazes, he shook his head and you slowly settled back on your throne. “Dead souls cannot be touched,” he whispered only for you to hear. “Otherwise they are doomed to wander these lands forever as nightmarish creatures.”

“W-what w-ill m-m-my judgment b-be?” the boy hiccuped as you shifted your attention back to him.

You held yourself back this time to leave the decision to the god himself, but he remained quiet, only giving you a squeeze with his fingers that were still covering yours, both of your hands lying on your side of the armrest. Then, he nodded encouragingly.

So you spoke softly, “You will get to leave this miserable life behind. You will get to start a new life. You don’t have to suffer anymore.”

“Thank you.”

And while he was still expressing his gratitude, the god caught you shedding some light tears yourself, but you were smiling throughout them in all honesty, because you were so happy that the little boy wouldn’t need to continue living in a world that had been so cruel to him.

When the boy followed a servant to the outside after the god had officially pronounced the sentence that you had decided on, he started explaining, “The moment they step into the hall, I know their backstories, I have to tell you. They only explain their own opinion and point of view to me. Since you don’t have that privilege, I let them tell their backstories too. For the little boy, he actually died wh-”

“No,” you declined determinedly, emphasized by the shake of your head. “I don’t want to know. Perhaps, you don’t understand, but I’m not immune to feelings unlike you who has been doing this for so long. There is only so much I can take in and carry before every single story will break me apart over and over again. Perhaps, it’s better this way, safer. I want to stand by the stories I tell them.”

“I’m not immune either.” The look you shared that followed was something between surprise and a mutual understanding, until he followed up, “So you want to remain?”

“I want to remain.”

In a gesture of encouragement, he squeezed your hand again, only now realizing that he hadn’t let go of it all along and that you hadn’t shaken him off, either.

____

By the evening, the god of the underworld had pronounced the sentence to all souls, you only chiming in when it was a case you could relate to, a case which needed a more emotional approach. In the beginning, it had been an overwhelming feeling for you, holding one’s destiny in your hands as the god of the underworld complied to all the judgments you made without a word of protest.

It made you feel… powerful. And helpful, equally. You were able to take the pain away from these sad souls and plant a more pleasant last memory of their former life into their invisible hearts. No matter the real circumstances of their deaths, you always spun stories more pleasant for their ears, so the majority of souls were allowed to jump into the pool of oblivion, looking forward to a new life.

“My wife killed me, that bitch.” A middle-aged man spat in front of the dais later that day. “I should have taken her with me.”

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your thigh as you pricked up your ears. It was late already, and you started to get exhausted which was why the god had suggested going home after this case. Though this case would turn out way more different than the ones before, you could solely tell by looking at the man.

His obvious rampant demeanor had caught your attention right away, so you asked calmly, “Tell me in detail, what did you do to your wife?”

"Nothing!" he defended himself loudly. “I did no-”

You remembered that no one was able to lie in the hall of judgment which was apparently why no tone came out of his mouth anymore despite him continuing blabbering. You averted your eyes to your right, wanting to know how the god would react.

You didn’t expect anything less than the following, “You really dare lie in front of the god of the underworld himself?”

“Please!” The man dropped to his knees and brought his hands together under his chin. “I did nothing wrong in my opinion!”

“How about we let your mistress decide whether you did something wrong to your wife, hm?” the god asked threateningly, his eyes narrowed.

“I only wanted to teach her a lesson,” the man pressed through gritted teeth. “If she hadn’t stayed out for so long, I wouldn’t have had to use my hands.”

Your fingers cramped around the armrests, uneasiness settling in where also nausea spread in your stomach, but the latter way faster. You already knew the end to the story before he could draw the entire outline. Again, like before when you had met cases that left you nearly breathless, the god’s palm found its way back to your hand, blanketing it, and his warmth somehow soothed your anger, restraining it. Somehow, you felt it had the same effect on him.

“How often did you hurt your wife?” you wanted to hear from the man.

“As often as I needed to.” There was no remorse in his voice. “Wives have to be obedient to their husbands, and if they aren’t, we have to remind them of our higher position.”

Anger burned in your veins, the knuckles on your fingers turning white, and even the god’s reassuring gesture could not hold you back from what you were about to say next anymore, “So you think lowly of women because we are female?”

“It’s what nature prescribes!” the man yelled.

“Do you have children?” you interrogated further, your fingers shaking by now. You were so close to jumping off your seat and physically taking it upon yourself.

“My wife never gifted me with one,” he tsk-ed. “Another task in which she has failed me as a woman.”

A growl was collecting on your tongue, and you nearly let the sound slip if it weren’t for the god cutting you off, “And yet, after your death, you stand in front of one. And this very one is deciding about your fate today.”

“Oh?” The man took a step back. “Forgive me, I haven’t known.”

“How about you tell your mistress about the child you deemed unfitting to continue living, no matter how hard it was for your wife to even conceive in the first place? Or the bar woman you impregnated instead, but chased away because you rather wanted to spend the money on alcohol? Or the rich man you once robbed and killed, all in one night?”

You didn’t need to put a second thought into your decision. He sounded exactly like the kind of man your father had been - ruthless, selfish, and so full of apathy, your chest swelled to the point of exploding.

“To the torture fields with him.”

It was the first time for you to use these words, you didn’t recognize your own voice.

____

You sent a man to the torture fields and you enjoyed it.

Even after returning to the palace, you still weren’t able to digest the latest happenings. Again. And again, like in the past, you didn’t feel any remorse afterwards. You felt satisfaction even.

“Is it always like this?” you asked when you stood in the entrance hall of the dark palace. “This lingering feeling of…”

“... satisfaction.” A slight smirk was playing around the god’s lips when he looked at your eager expression. “Yes. It absolutely is.”

“Wow,” you breathed, overwhelmed by so much power you had never imagined of ever possessing. “But… what if I made the wrong decision?”

Was that what the sun god had wanted you to see? A side inside of you that you had repressed for so long? The potential you offered when you were sitting on the throne right next to the god of the underworld?

“There is no right or wrong in the hall of judgment. There is only one truth. And the truth in that case was that you passed judgment on someone who deserved their fate.” He inhaled deeply before breaking down to you, “That is why I want to offer you the throne next to mine.”

Your head snatched upwards and you drew your brows together in suspicion. “What are you saying?”

“I offer you the title ‘the queen of the underworld’,” he repeated more clearly, gaze unwavering but not inscrutable. He meant every single syllable, no underlying joke in his voice, the smirk entirely gone and his dark eyes clear.

“I’m not going to be your wife,” you declined immediately again, your voice failing you though, and you were afraid he’d notice.

“I don’t want you to become my wife in that sense if you find that thought so repulsive.” There was a chuckle simultaneously rolling from his tongue. “I offer you the position of the queen of the underworld. I offer you half my kingdom, a throne next to mine and a crown made of darkness, just like mine.”

You stood in front of him, feeling very lost at that moment, but also very intrigued. The words that he uttered, you had never dared to even take them into your mouth, let alone speaking them out. “I-” You opened your mouth, but no refusal came out this time.

You wanted to reason with your mother and sister, but living here had made you realize that they were probably better off without you if they were going to get taken care of with gold to last generations. If you would ever get the chance to return to earth, you would need to get married to someone you probably loathed and lived a boring life as a housewife.

Then, you wanted to argue with the fact that you missed the sun, nature, flowers and everything earth offered to you. But did you really? On earth, flowers withered at the end of every summer, months of coldness dominating your part of the world for the majority of the year. You started to question whether you would have lived a fulfilling life if you had continued like this, only looking forward to spring and rotting away in boredom when the world got blanketed with snow, fighting for survival, year after year.

Here in the underworld, there were no such things as seasons. The darkness might have appeared threatening at the beginning, but you had slowly started to grow accustomed to the different lightning and the constant pleasant temperature. By now, you had also found beauty in the absolute darkness of the night and the sunset-like sky during daytime.

A conflict spread out inside of you that you had never imagined of ever leading. Had you already found your true fate back then on earth or have you always been destined for more in another world?

“You only want me to stay because you feel lonely, that’s why you’re offering me the throne,” was your feeble attempt of rejection. “But I’m not like you, Jaehyun. I cannot live this life here.”

“You are very much like me, little rose,” Jaehyun corrected with a growing, new smile you couldn’t define, and then reminded you, ”Did you forget that destiny doesn’t only mean endless torture? The little boy who you sent into the river of oblivion, he will get the chance to start a new life, leaving the one behind in which he only experienced sorrow and suffering. How did you feel at that moment? Didn’t you feel helpful, relieved or even happy for him? Because that’s what will also be required of you as the queen of the underworld. You’re an executor and a savior both at the same time. You’ll be the most powerful queen to ever exist.”

“T-tell me,” you stuttered, “t-tell me the truth. That day… it might have been a coincidence that you were near me, but what made you choose me?”

It couldn’t have been a coincidence only. There must be more to it. There must be a reason you were here now, a sign that this was your fate for which you had always been destined. It would give you the ultimate assurance, a reason less to doubt your entire existence.

“Aren’t you one sneaky little thing, my rose? I wanted to tell you that day already, but you weren’t ready to hear.” Jaehyun stretched out his hand and let the tip of his index finger run along your chin. You shuddered - in full pleasure so obvious, he must have felt it too. And he must have also felt your disappointment when he withdrew his hand again. “Before you appeared here… I mean, before I stole you - pardon me - I was very lonely. So I asked for one day on earth to search for a fitting wife as I haven’t found one among my own kind. But who I got drawn to, precisely by their sugary scent that even overshadowed the flowers and morning dew wrapped pollen on the fingers, wasn’t a timid daisy in a bed full of asters. It was a rose itself who harbored thorns, and I believe, deep within, I knew all along that I finally found someone not only fit to warm my bed, but to reign alongside me. Seldomly have I met someone so strong-willed and fierce like you, lest a mortal. If you decide against the crown of immortal flowers that I offer you, it will be really unfortunate for me as I paid a huge price for getting you.”

You gulped. “...Which price?”

“I will never be allowed on earth again.”

You understood why he wanted a companion as you couldn’t imagine living at such a huge place all by yourself either. The corridors were long, dark and branched, servants strictly following their duties and always keeping their distance to their master despite him treating them respectfully. Then, there were the endless rolling plains with nothing but dust and nightmarish creatures. The darkness from the underworld must have taken over his heart a long time ago as well, and he was looking for a glimmer of light.

You just weren’t sure whether you were the right one. He hadn’t been able to give you the entire reassurance you still needed.

“That’s unfortunate,” you brought yourself to say eventually. “But I can’t.”

A strand of your hair got lifted up, and he twirled it around his finger, observing it closely and seemingly enjoying the softness that curled around his skin. You had never seen him so at your mercy and apologetic before. “I only had one chance that would define my own destiny which will last an eternity. If I made the wrong choice in selecting you, I am deeply sorry. If there was more that I could tell you, I would. But there isn’t. You were there, and I wanted you. Why don’t you want me too, little rose?”

Your breathing came in hitches. “What would that make me, Jaehyun?”

Leaving your family behind to live in sin here in the underworld. It would make you an outcast, someone expelled from society, someone with no dignity. But then again, when had you ever been someone who was worth more on earth? Weren’t you exactly where you were supposed to be, where darkness reigned like the one which occupied your heart ever since that fateful day a century ago?

Jaehyun’s hand was now on the side of your face, and you fought the urge to nestle against his palm. You relished the feeling the tip of his thumb made when he brushed it over your cheek though, and you wanted more of it, all over your body precisely. You just knew it would be entirely different than what you had experienced with mortal men before. But then again - what would that make you?

“It would make you a human,” Jaehyun calmed you, his expression smoothening despite the obvious threat on his throat. “Just like you are. Don’t you ever forget that. You are allowed to accept every part of you, to feel everything you’re harboring.”

“But it’s just… so hard,” you whispered, unsure what he was even talking about anymore, you being queen or the possibility of you two sharing more than the throne, but also a bed.

“You are a constellation, waiting to be explored and loved. Did any man who ever tried to court you understand that you were so much more than a maiden hidden away in her house’s backyard? Because I understand.”

There was something glittering in his eyes despite stars being absent here. You opened your lips and closed them again, fighting so hard against the need of wanting them to taste his.

“You fought so bravely against it. You can allow yourself to finally let go, little rose,” Jaehyun encouraged you with a low whisper. Again, you were questioning whether he actually meant the darkness in your heart or the need of his lips covering yours.

“I-I-...” You let out a long breath that you had been holding in this entire time and took a step back, away from him and from his alluring appearance. “I’m tired. I will return to my chambers.”

You almost stumbled over your own feet running to your chamber, setting one hasty foot after another. When you reached your room, you locked the door behind you as though you were afraid he might follow you and barge in.

As you laid in your bed shortly later, you caught yourself wishing he had done so. And you also caught yourself having naturally addressed him by his name somewhere along the way.

Like he wasn't a distant god or master anymore. But an equal.

____

“Do humans live with you?” you asked Taeyong the next day after encountering him in the garden, joking around with the servants.

Apparently, he had had a few duties close by and decided to pay the dark palace a visit. As it came to your attention through him a short while ago, Jaehyun’s palace was described as such by outsiders.

Taeyong laughed, but the smile that he forced himself to wear meanwhile wasn’t sincere. “No, I don’t support this kind of lifestyle.”

“Why? Don’t get me wrong, I’m on your side, but why does your opinion differ from the other gods?”

“The woman I love is a human, what would that make me, abusing her own kind?”

The pain in his voice couldn’t be ignored, it was too obvious, intended or unintended. But it was not the kind of pain a rejected lover would express. “So you’re in love with a mortal, I see.”

“Not just a mortal, a human,” he corrected. “We gods are all immortal, but there are other creatures such as sprites who are also otherworldly, but can indeed die, so they’re mortal. Some humans here have also gained immortality. Mortals and humans are not the same term.”

He confirmed what you had suspected all along. Finally, you understood why Jaehyun had always spoken about humans only and not about mortals when addressing your kind. It was because in the dark palace, he was the only immortal one.

“I understand. Then… tell me about her, Taeyong. What makes you so sad about her?”

“The fact that I don’t want to love her, and she doesn’t want me to love her either, but I would even give up on my immortality just to be with her. I would instantly go and trade my immortality despite a god never having done that before, and I don’t even know whether it’s possible, but if, I would in a heartbeat.”

The way he spoke about her, soft and passionate, reminded you of the way Jaehyun spoke to you lately, and suddenly yearning tugged on your heartstring, even though he was only a few yards away from you inside the palace.

“It must be a huge sacrifice for a god to be willing to give up their immortality for a human. It sounds like you sincerely love her.”

“I don’t love her sincerely,” Taeyong continued bluntly, shocking you. But a tinge of the same yearning resonated in his tone too, so you were truly confused about his contradicting reaction. “It’s not the kind of love I wish upon anyone. I haven’t chosen her, but every fiber of my heart longs for her love. One day, it will tear me entirely apart. It will be the day she dies.”

You frowned. “I don’t think I understand…”

“I’m cursed by the god of love. Ironic, isn’t it?” He let out a laugh, but it didn’t sound amused at all, bitter even. “I’m cursed to love her until the end of days, and she’s cursed to not reciprocate it.”

It sounded so sad and unfortunate to you, you didn’t quite know what to say. “I’m so sorry.” You couldn’t imagine how painful it must be to feel and live like this. And what would happen if she died one day? Would he continue loving her and longing for her when all traces of her had evaporated, for all eternity? You repeated, this time much more sensitively, “I’m so sorry, Taeyong.”

“Now, don’t look so sad, there is nothing to be sad about,” Taeyong tried to cheer you up. “I have arranged myself to live like this. That’s why I think you’re very lucky.”

“Me?” You pointed at yourself. “Why should I be?”

“Because humans still know what true love is. They can decide on who to be with, who to open their hearts to, who to let in. Most gods solemnly seek for the comfort of a warm body next to them at any given time, or marry only out of convenience. Some gods are cursed, just like me, some even happen to face a worse fate. Only the minority don’t seek for a puppet or an arrangement, but a real partner. Like Jaehyun.”

You sneered. “According to everyone else, he’s one of the most powerful gods in your entire realm. Why would he care for a real partner, a human even?”

“You don’t know him very well, do you? He might have only searched for a timid wife to sit next to him in the throne hall and perhaps show him a bit of affection. But that would have never been enough for him, and he always knew, otherwise he would have picked the first human he saw.”

“All I’m saying is,” you defended your opinion, “I might not be the right person for whatever he requires of me.”

Taeyong shrugged, but not with an indifferent intention. “You might be the exact right person for this as he doesn’t require anything from you except for you just to be you.”

“Why would you say that?” you sighed, distressed.

“Jaehyun traded his permission to be allowed on earth to find you. It was risky and stupid, I can admit that, but at least he went after what he had been searching for this entire time. It impresses me very much. Doesn’t it impress you too?”

“That’s not a good enough reason. He only had one shot,” you tried to understand. “And he picked me. What if he chose wrong?”

“That is your perception.” Taeyong smiled, no trace of sadness anymore. “Mine is that he was a lonely man looking at a million women in the span of half a day. And he didn’t need to look at a million other women and take the remaining hours to settle with the last possible option out of pure panic, because he ran out of time. He went for what caught his eye, felt right to him and gave him hope. Isn’t that a good enough reason?”

You fell into silence.

“Ah, I must go now. But just let me tell you this one last thing.” You raised your brows in expectation, watching Taeyong shift around and seamlessly continuing without looking back, “Jaehyun is the god of the underworld. Never has he made a wrong decision.”

You wished you didn’t believe him.

____

Jaehyun probably knew it the moment you walked into the great hall that day. He probably saw it in the nervous flickers of your eyes, he probably smelled it in the light sheen of sweat glistening around your cleavage, probably heard it in the ragged breaths of your lungs.

You had come to kill him.

But he didn’t say a single word.

Your walk wasn’t as determined and full of confidence as usual, the steps barely heard as though you might change your mind every second. The silver blade was glistening between your fingers and then slipped up your sleeve again in hope he hadn’t seen.

“Did you think about my offer, little rose?” Jaehyun asked almost nonchalantly as he moved on his throne, but didn’t descend.

Today, he was wearing his dark crown at home again. Ironically, on his death day too, you thought silently to yourself. “Yes,” you announced and let your head drop when you stood in front of him. “I can’t.”

“And why is it that you think that you can’t? You’re a human, someone with a free will. We gods don’t have that.”

“It’s because I have a free will that I decide against your offer.”

“Very well. I accept that.” He let out a long sigh that didn’t sound in the least bit agitated though. “If you ever change your mind while you’re still here, I am willing to get back to my offer.”

“I’m afraid there is not enough time.”

Then you lashed out, and the next moment, he had a knife to his throat, blood spilling where the blade cut into his skin. It was only lightly, but enough to tear apart even the sheerest of paper. You didn’t dare to push deeper, your trembling fingers clinging onto the handle when you settled on his lap with your legs locking him in place on either side.

“Why don’t you stab me?” Jaehyun whispered, not moving a single inch.

You were aware he couldn’t die, not from your mortal hands. This action was your feeble attempt and last resort of holding onto something you should have left behind the moment you had stepped into the darkness: humanity. If you stabbed him, you wouldn’t feel the same as with your father back then. If you stabbed him, you would feel remorse, and that would remind you that you were still all that - a human.

You ground your teeth, breathing irregularly while having difficulties remaining the knife in its position. Jaehyun was still sitting quietly beneath you, looking up at you with expectant eyes that didn’t mirror anything like reproach or anger. He knew you wouldn’t do that, he knew that exactly, and that fueled your despair even more, because, in the end, you had known all along too.

“You can defy everything, little rose, even me,” Jaehyun muttered, stretching out his hand that then touched a strand of your hair and gently tucked it behind your ear. “But the truth is that you want me, and this life. And it’s killing you. Not me.”

You had never wanted to be anything less than extraordinary, but no one had ever told you that you could possibly be bound for so much greater either. Restless in your own world, you had tended flowers day for day, wondering if there was more to life than the one you were living. You had always been subconsciously rattling on the invisible chains of simplicity, boredom and too much comfort, struggling to let go fully.

And now he, the god of the underworld himself, was pressed into the throne in front of you, not fighting back under the threat of your knife, even though he was able to unalive you with only the flick of his finger. He was patiently waiting for your decision, had seen and fostered your potential from the very beginning.

You weren’t a timid little flower in the backyard anymore.

You were the dangerous seeds of pomegranates.

“Tell me, little rose, will you accept even the darkest parts of you like I do?”

A few beats of silence passed by where Jaehyun only heard your rattled breathing going hand in hand with the erratic rhythm of your chest heaving up and down, until the knife dropped to the dais with a loud noise. His fingers grazed over your scalp, settling there shortly before they grabbed a bundle of hair, preparing to haul you to him.

But he didn’t need to. Willingly, you leaned down, stopping right before your lips touched his, wavering in that moment a little too long. Jaehyun’s fingers slipped from the back of your head past your ear, touching your cheek. He was so close, you could feel his breath stroking your chin as his finger tips slid further, trailing over your bottom lip.

Your eye contact was so strong and more intense unlike anything you had ever experienced before. He was exploring the deepest parts of your soul with his gaze only, making you wonder how much longer it would take Jaehyun to unravel all of you without even having touched you more intimately.

Instinctively, you parted your lips, and he slipped his thumb past them. With the tip of your tongue, you licked over his skin, then started sucking on his finger. This gesture had something so tainted yet intimate to it, you feared that he might withdraw right away, but the look in his eyes and his own slightly agape mouth only reassured you of the fact that he found it as seductive as you.

But Jaehyun was still awaiting your answer before it was processed. You were sure though that whatever would start to happen next, it would be world-destructive in so many senses. You only hoped you would be prepared for it.

You sucked in a huge breather and Jaehyun retracted his hand from your mouth as he assumed you wanted to say something. There was much expectation lying behind his awaiting eyes, even though you both knew by now what your answer would be.

“Beg.”

Jaehyun cocked a brow. “Pardon?”

“Beg for it.”

You could clearly see the struggle in his eyes, and even a touch of indignation, but as he saw how serious you were about it, he apparently swallowed all his pride.

“Please,” he growled lowly. “Be my queen.”

“You don’t have to be alone anymore,” you finally whispered as you hovered above him with not much resistance.

At this moment, you laid bare in front of him, with your soul and mind at his mercy, and he could do anything he wanted with it.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Jaehyun let you come forward and close the last remaining space between the two of you as you pressed your lips against his, reassuring him of your words’ honesty. You had made your decision, and you were willing to take everything that came along with it - including the god of the underworld himself.

Suddenly, Jaehyun gasped in shock when he tasted something familiar on your tongue.

There it was.

Pulling away, he snatched your hand, spotting red stains on the tips of your fingers and whispering breathlessly, “Pomegranate seeds.” And then louder, “You ate pomegranate seeds!”

You clarified, “Seven of them, to be exact.”

By the way he examined your lips and licked over his own, he must by now also spot and taste the red seeds on your own mouth that had passed by him before.

"You deceived me,” Jaehyun realized. “You never needed me to beg for you to be queen.”

“I needed to be sure you truly meant it,” you disclosed the truth to him. “Whether you would be able to lay your title aside for me and open up to me about what you truly want, as a man and not as a king. Whether you would see me as an equal.”

He hesitated. “What if I had said no?”

One edge of your mouth curved upwards. “From the very beginning, I knew you wouldn’t.”

“How lucky you are, as a queen isn’t to be opposed,” he then said with a smirk, “she’s to be obeyed and worshiped.”

When your lips came together again and his hands grabbed hard on the tender flesh of your buttocks, you were both aware that you had never needed to be convinced to stay with him in the first place.

_____

Jaehyun’s hands weren’t on your face anymore as his mouth gave you all the attention you needed there, lips and tongue deep inside you. Instead, you felt his palms pressing into your exposed thighs after he had successfully and nearly imperceptibly pulled your skirts up, skin grazing against skin, his touch causing you to shudder with craving so unfathomable, you believed you were going to burst. This time, from bliss only.

His tongue outlined the form of your lips, your mouth then again melting into the kiss you two were sharing, so passionate and full of yearning as though you had been waiting a lifetime for only this moment. In both of your cases, it was applicable - the god of the underworld who had been alone all along, and a mortal girl who was bound for so much more than a simple life on earth.

Your back arched into Jaehyun’s body when his hands wandered upwards and curled into the curve of your spine, his fingers dancing across the naked skin under all the fabric which hung flattery around your figure. Without breaking your kiss, you gripped onto the very first button of his black shirt and undid it, your hands stained with the blood of the wound that you had caused earlier.

Snapping back to reality, you bounced back with a gasp, inspecting Jaehyun’s neck that now looked surprisingly unscathed where your knife had once slid through, only the spilled blood remaining. “Wha-”

“We gods heal way faster than humans, because that’s what we are…” he explained patiently, “immortal.”

That was something you hadn’t put further thought into, but absolutely made sense considering that you technically couldn’t kill him. Somehow, a bad conscience still seeped into you, so you said, “I’m sorry” with much regret in your voice.

“Don’t apologize, little rose,” was only his answer, adorned with a smile while his fingers fiddled with the collar around your cleavage. “You did what you had to do. It was important to me that you weighed all your options and still decided to be with me.”

Jaehyun tugged on your sleeves, pulling the upper part of your dress all the way down. The fabric settled around your hips with loud rusting, and only now you noticed that he had grown distinctively hard between your thighs. It aroused you very much as well, a cool breeze caressing your breasts and making your nipples turn hard.

You had never carefully paid attention to what you considered flaws on your body, but the god sitting under you was incontrovertibly perfect and you, as a human, certainly didn’t perceive yourself in the same way. There was nothing to hide your naked body behind in this short span of doubt, but your shoulders slacked nonetheless, especially in this dominant position, and he noticed.

Jaehyun lifted you off his lap with a surprised sound falling from your lips. Your thighs were locked around his hips and you held onto him while he descended from the throne and placed you with your back on the carpet in front of the dais. With your arms slung across your chest while now lying in front of him, you tried to hide from him what you considered unpleasant for his eyes. You had never had this problem during your fleeting intimate encounterings before.

“Please don’t be insecure,” Jaehyun spoke gently, looming over you. “You’re so beautiful, I can’t take my eyes off you.”

Oddly, you believed every single word and willingly freed your chest as your thoughts and worries started to leave your mind. His tongue flicked over your nipple and with a moan, you threw your head back against the carpet, your fingers buried in his thick hair which was free from a crown now, scratching his scalp when he decided to gently suck on your peaks in alternation. It made you grow hot and wet in your nether regions, and you started to ache with the need for release.

You whined when Jaehyun suddenly withdrew, but let out a yelp when he grabbed your thighs, yanking you towards him and burying his face between your legs under the many layers of your skirts. His tongue indulged you, making hard passes over your folds before flicking your clit over and over. You hadn’t known what to expect of a god, but literally devouring you kind of made sense now.

His tongue was long, wet and thick, and it slid over your exposed parts in delightful strokes, the groaning sounds Jaehyun made meanwhile vibrating through you and almost making you cum on spot if it weren’t for him deciding to use his lips next. They felt full and warm on your wetness when he sucked on you, and you calmed down a bit, moving your body to the same sensual rhythm as his caressing mouth.

“You taste better than the pomegranate seeds,” Jaehyun told you when he appeared by your face again, licking over his wet lips.

He wanted to prolong the act, but that didn’t withhold him from having fun, so he started playing with you through his rough fingers rubbing soft circles around your clit while observing you with a satisfied grin. These fingers then moved past your barrier and started to thrust inside of you, causing you to fidget with your legs, wanting to get rid of the dress that you suddenly didn’t see as a protection from your mortality anymore, but an annoyance.

Jaehyun, as though an expert in reading your needs now, helped you with that and dragged the entire dress down your legs, throwing it aside. You watched him then elegantly and calmly undressing himself too, and when he dropped on his knees in front of your spread legs, entirely naked, his appearance just took your breath away.

He was magnificent. And he had decided on you to make his queen. Out of all creatures, mortal and immortal, human and god, he had decided on you. Suddenly, you didn’t see it as a punishment anymore, but a blessing. You were so lucky.

Jaehyun positioned himself between your thighs, slowly stroking his length against your entrance that was already slick with precum. You guessed everything that worked for humans worked for gods too. And that also included pain as you hadn’t had sex in so long already.

There was indeed a pang as he pushed himself inside, but it lasted only the break of a second that he luckily didn’t catch before it melted into pleasure, and it was the kind of pleasure you hadn’t been able to ever fathom before. It felt like something fell into place, like finding something that you had grasp seeking for all your lifetime and had just now discovered.

The way he slid his length in, slowly, inch by agonizing inch, was what you would describe as pure bliss, the most decadent, indulgent pleasure you had ever felt. You reached down and grabbed his bum, pulling him into you so that he sank even deeper if that were even possible as he had already hit the brim.

“Already so insatiable, little rose?” Jaehyun groaned with an underlying chuckle, propping his hands against the carpet on either side of you. “Or should I call you ‘my queen’ from now on?”

He wasn’t even expecting an answer as he knew your clear response to it. His first thrust then inside of you was already so powerful, it nearly knocked the air out of your lungs.

You weren’t his captive, nor his prisoner. He had never seen you as such. You were soon to be the queen by his side, his equal. Yet, all you wanted was him to fuck you senseless, devour you, ravage you, and worse. And you had the feeling that the god of the underworld wouldn’t mind doing all that as the sinister grin on his lips slightly gave away while you whispered almost absent-mindedly,

“More, more!”

Your fingers curled around the rug beneath you whenever he pulled back, his muscles straining and drawing in a deep breath before he slammed right back into you, causing you to gasp loudly, the echo getting carried across the wide hall. You hadn’t deemed it to be possible, but you swore that with every thrust, he drove in even deeper. A cry strangled in your throat, your vision rolling back as you had difficulties keeping eye contact with him. Your naked bodies moved together in unison despite you having feared at first that you might have forgotten how this act worked.

For this being you two’s first joining, you didn’t feel inferior or controlled like in the past when you had used sex and everything forbidden only as a coping mechanism. Every noise you made, whether dry moaning or lustful cry, was because of pure pleasure, and Jaehyun always responded with a short pause where he looked you longingly in the eyes and halted his motions for a moment before starting off shallowly again as though he quite couldn’t believe you were there. You couldn’t either.

With each kiss, you felt adored. With each touch, you felt appreciated. With each thrust, you felt worshiped. It wasn’t only about him, but about you too, regardless of your human nature.

Pleasure quickly started to build and grow within you, and you were afraid you were going to faint on the spot as Jaehyun’s rhythm changed and he picked up his pace. Your mortal body was supposedly too weak and too fragile to take everything he could give all at once despite you wanting to explore everything, all of it.

But you couldn’t just yet, despite him clearly willing to give you all you needed, for as long as you wanted. If you continued, you feared you might really splinter and be impossible to put back together, dying right there in his arms, because the bliss was too much for a human to take in.

“Please,” you were the one begging now, your hands coming forward and clutching around his toned arm muscles. “I can’t anymore. I need to-”

“Very well, my queen.”

The new title was music to your ears, and the moment you saw stars exploding in front of your eyes, you also witnessed the sparkles merging and forging a crown made of darkness, just like his.

You were screaming and writhing under him, grabbing onto anything, something just to make sure that you would stay here and not fly off into another realm or worse, back to earth. But you were still with Jaehyun when you calmed down and his own orgasm ripped through him, the god of the underworld coming undone right above you.

His chest heaved as he tried to regain his breath, his toned body gleaming with sweat, but he still took his time to end your session with a kiss on your mouth that sealed the eternal proposal you had accepted.

“This is the only time I wouldn’t mind giving up power as a queen,” you reminded him as he pulled you to his chest, still there on the carpet. “Don’t you forget that.”

“Very well, my queen.”

You couldn’t see his face, but you felt his smile on you.

____

When you woke up the next morning, you only after a short while realized that you weren’t in your own chambers. Warmth rose to your cheeks when you remembered what happened after you had threatened Jaehyun with a knife. And after that. And after that again. And…

Each joining had lasted longer than the one before, him giving more and you taking more, until your experience wasn’t only earth-shattering, but also soul-rendering. Every session tightened the bond that had formed between the two of you even stronger, and you wondered how long it would take until it couldn’t break anymore. Perhaps, it had never been destructible to begin with.

You blinked against the dim reddish light and got into a seating position before observing the room that was almost identical to yours, probably just a bit bigger, furnished fuller and more luxuriously.

“I figured you wanted to remain true to mortal customs.”

You hadn’t spotted Jaehyun sitting on the edge of the bed, hair messy and body bare safe from a pair of satin bottoms. Again, you remembered that on earth, you had never seen a human so beautiful like him. You couldn’t even bring yourself to believe there was.

“What do you mean?” you asked with a raspy voice, and he apparently found it endearing in the way he reacted to your question.

“I heard that on earth, after you propose marriage and the other person accepts, you’re engaged. That’s the time before the actual wedding, right? And that the woman is gifted a diamond ring. At least that’s what Taeyong told me.”

“That’s right,” you confirmed, but you had never seen a real diamond ring before. When people in your village got engaged, they usually bought a cheap ring or used an heirloom, but as you had never expected to get married, you had never put much thought into owning one yourself.

“I didn’t know which kind of stone you liked and neither which kind of cut you preferred, let alone the color,” Jaehyun spelled out, insecurity swinging in his undertone. “I spent the entire rest of the night only deciding on that.” He slid closer to you along the mattress which let you spot the softness in his voice resonating in the look of his eyes. “And then I came to the conclusion that all of that doesn’t matter. Trivial things like these don’t matter to you. But… I still wanted to give the mortal girl I stole from her family a diamond ring. Simply because she deserves it.”

From the corner of your periphery, you spotted something glittering. When he opened his palm fully, a dainty silver ring got revealed to you, a black diamond sitting on the very top. Its shape reminded you of a blossoming flower, held together by silvery thorns that twined along the outline.

“It’s the shape of a rose,” Jaehyun explained, “cut of diamonds from deep inside the mountains where only the residing god has access to.”

A rose for his beloved little rose cut of stone in the same color as their hearts.

It was the most beautiful jewelry you had ever seen, one of those you usually only read about in fairytale books. Jaehyun reached out his hand and took yours into his, sliding the ring along the right finger until it sat perfectly where an engagement ring was supposed to be seen. You had never wanted to pay much attention to materialistic stuff, but as soon as you saw the diamond adorning your hand, you were flooded with so much pride and an overwhelming feeling of finally having found your place in this world that it drove tears into your eyes.

“Did… did I do something wrong?” Jaehyun suddenly sounded so worried and squeezed your fingers together, expressing his concern. “Isn’t it what you wanted? We can change the diamond, the color, or if you don’t want a ring at a-”

You shook your head. “It’s… it’s not that. The ring is perfect. This is perfect.”

“What is it then?”

Pause. “I don’t want to be your queen.”

He let go of your hand, his forehead now in creases. “So, you don’t want to get married to me anymore?”

“No.” You shook your head. “I don’t want to be your queen only.”

The frowns only deepened. “What are you saying?”

“At the beginning, you wanted me as your wife, but I refused. Later on, you said you were looking for a queen. I only accepted to be a queen, not a wife.”

“That is correct.”

“Ask me again.”

“What?”

You chuckled. “Ask me again.”

Jaehyun needed a moment to process, but then his eyes started to sparkle when it dawned on him what you were trying to ask of him. He then took your hand with the engagement ring back into his and held your fingers in front of his chest, the black rose diamond sparkling in the candlelight.

“Will you marry me? Will you become my wife, loved and cherished every single day, and also become my queen, reigning over the underworld with me?”

Loved and cherished? You had never heard someone speaking these words in the same breath and directing them at you. And now you had the king of the underworld offering you more than you had ever thought possible on earth. He sealed his proposal with a kiss that he gently placed on the top of your knuckles, right by the diamond.

You let your fingers slip out of his palm and shifted your arm to sling them both around his neck. With a careful movement, you motioned in his direction, his hands on your waist guiding you until you settled on his lap, eye to eye with him.

“Will you love and cherish me always?” With your thumbs, you tenderly brushed over the back of his neck. “Whatever will happen?”

“I will always love and cherish my wife and queen,” he replied. “So please, marry me. And this is the only time I will ever beg again outside of the bedroom.”

He knew that you had always been meant for more than a silly, fragile doll of earth. And maybe, your family provided acceptance to the same extent, but you wanted pomegranates and death, and you craved the cruel shadows of the night. He saw more in you than a corrupted child of light, he saw a queen worthy of reigning alongside him. And you would gladly let him believe so.

“Yes,” you whispered before you leaned into his lips. “I will.”

The kiss was chaste and innocent, a stark contrast to the previous night, sealing a proposal you had never dreamed of receiving. To be loved and cherished until all eternity… you thought, despite the equal darkness in your heart, you could give all of this to him too. And eternity by his side didn’t sound so excruciating anymore.

“What is it?” Jaehyun halted in the middle of the kiss to look directly at you, his palms steadying either side of your face. “Is something wrong?”

You shook your head, taken aback by a warm feeling that suddenly spread from your lower stomach to the very tips of every limp. “Nothing.” Your fingers massaged the back of his head, his soft hair slipping through the gaps between them. “When are we getting married?”

“So impatient already?” He narrowed his eyes and tilted the corners of his lips up to an evil grin. “If you want to repeat last night, all you have to do is ask, anytime you want, anywhere you want.”

“As promising as it sounds… I’m serious,” you assured him. “When can we get married?”

“I stand by my answer, anytime you want.”

“Then tomorrow?”

“As you wish, my wife.”

____

You married the god of the underworld on a day when the sky was exceptionally red. Or so it seemed to you as your lips had been painted in the same promising color that resembled the dangerous pomegranate seeds as well.

You stood in a tiny, open chapel forged of stone in the middle of the mountains you always watched from Jaehyun’s chamber’s window where you had resided the past nights. Donned in black garments of the finest fabrics instead of pastels, you were facing and holding each other’s hands, the priestess in a white tunic and veil that barely revealed her face reading from a book to you that you had never seen in churches on earth.

You didn’t have witnesses, there were no family members or friends to celebrate this special day with you. Under these circumstances, it would have been the saddest day in a young woman’s life. But not for you. Of course you wished your mother and sister could have been here too to share these feelings with you, but they also wouldn’t have understood.

Why you did this. Why you needed to do this.

“I do,” you heard Jaehyun say first.

This was where you belonged. At the end of the day, you had still found your way into the arms of the darkest god in the entire realms.

“I do,” you repeated after the priestess, barely a whisper, but still strong enough to be carried by the breeze to everyone’s ear.

You met Jaehyun’s confident smile, and you only now grasped the fact that you barely remembered the last time you had been happy to this extent back there on earth. It had been a long, long time.

When your lips closed around your husband’s, marking his mouth with stains of the same redness as the sky and the pomegranates that bound you to this place, you claimed him as yours just like he claimed you as his.

Two equals from different breeds, but from now on of the same value under this red sky.

____

“Congratulations on your wedding. I was a bit sad that I wasn't invited.”

“Nobody was invited, Taeyong,” Jaehyun sighed. “Why did you come here anyway?”

“I have a message for your wife.” The sun god jumped down the stairs until he stood in front of you both, but only eyeing you. “Talk about timing, you have just gotten married and I will have to separate you again.”

“What do you mean?” You frowned, suddenly very wary.

“I have a message for you from the god of the sea. Since he was banned by your now husband from ever entering the underworld again and your husband was banned from entering the sea too, he sent me as a messenger.”

That statement didn’t only cause you to freeze, but Jaehyun as well. “What does he want from her?”

The few things you had heard about the sea god so far hadn’t been really pleasant. What could he possibly want from you?

“He has been reached out to by someone who wants to get you back,” Taeyong declared carefully.

You shook your head. “That’s impossible. No one from my family can come and there is no other person who would care enough for me to do that.”

“Why would that be the case?” Taeyong asked.

“Her mother is limping gravely and her sister is still a child. She doesn’t have other living relatives,” Jaehyun reasoned for you.

You were grateful for his support as you were having struggles digesting Taeyong’s information, having the fact pass by you that you had never actually told Jaehyun anything about your family yourself by then.

“Well, someone is there who you matter very much to. And they want to take you back with them. A distant relative? A friend?”

“It must be my mother or sister. It must.” You were petrified while two pairs of eyes laid on you, both gods lost for words too.

The tears that spilled from your eyes shortly later weren’t tears of happiness or relief. They were tears of guilt, because you felt neither. You couldn’t move but shook with your whole body against your will at the same time. What eventually settled in your stomach was the feeling of disappointment.

Disappointment, because whoever had come they had succeeded in that task - all to no avail.

Taeyong touched your back in a comforting gesture. “I’ll accompany you.”

“No,” Jaehyun cut in and took you into an embrace in which you couldn’t stop trembling too, even though you weren’t cold. “Let her digest that information first, and then we’ll figure out what to do.”

Despite the stream of tears that clouded your vision, you still brought yourself to shake your head. “N-no,” you sobbed. “I-I will go now. I have to go n-now.”

“The horse is already saddled,” Taeyong supported you. “Don’t worry, I will safely escort her and bring her back to you, Jaehyun, you have my word.”

“You want to do it now?” your husband asked you carefully, eyes full of worry.

You nodded determinedly, voice steadier now. “Yes. They came all the way here, I owe them. Whatever they risked, I owe them. I cannot let another minute go reactionless to waste.”

“I understand.”

Not much later, you had hurried to your own room, Ara helping you peel out of your wedding dress and changing into a comfortable, dark gown, more suited for riding and traveling. You didn’t want to lose much time as Taeyong was already waiting outside, so you hastened along with the servant until your husband stepped into the room right before you were about to leave again.

“You’re dismissed, Ara,” Jaehyun said and she nodded, quietly departing and shutting the door behind her.

“What’s he like?” you asked dryly, tears now having entirely subsided, but fear only growing. “The god of the sea, I mean.”

Your husband turned mute for a bit too long before he replied discreetly, yet clearly enough with much pain in his voice, “I wish you wouldn’t have to go.”

“I must.”

“I know. It’s just so unfortunate it happened on our wedding day.”

You felt his breath hitting the parting of your hair when he stood close to you and eventually hugged again which you instinctively reciprocated. You didn’t want to leave him either - but, again, you must. If only he could come with you, you would feel safer and more protected. Even though Taeyong offered probably the same amount of comfort, it would have been something entirely else to have your own husband by your side.

“Remember, you’re the queen of the underworld now,” Jaehyun whispered into your ear. “He doesn’t stand a chance against you. By title alone, you’re mightier than him.”

“I’m still a human and mortal after all,” you expressed your worry and buried your face in his chest, fingers clutching hard into the fabric of his shirt. “He could keep me captivated, blackmail you or just end me with one single grip of his hand. I don’t stand a chance against him.”

“If he dares to lay a finger on you,” Jaehyun continued with an underlying groan that indicated he was suppressing long planted anger, “I will have the permission to end him. I promise to you, if you’re not back by the day after tomorrow, I will tear every single realm apart just to find you and take you back with me.”

In the security of his embrace, you smiled, more at ease now. “If he won’t let me go, I will fight my way back to you. Through every single realm.”

“That is exactly what my queen and wife would say.”

The proudness in his voice made you proud too, and suddenly you weren’t so scared anymore. The promises you had given to each other in the secrecy of your room was sealed with one last kiss that was dripping with longing over the lost wedding night before you got on Taeyong’s horse and rode off with him into the fallen darkness.

____

“So, you’re the wife of the king of the underworld?”

The man in front of you motioned his pupils up and down, inspecting you from head to toe. You couldn’t pinpoint the look in his eyes, but it was everything except kindness that got mirrored in them. It was mostly mockery that bordered disgust even.

“I’m not only his wife, I’m his queen and the queen of the underworld, so you will address me as such.”

He raised his dark brow that was of the same color as his hair - petrol blue. In comparison to your husband, the king, he was a bit shorter and of a more slender figure, his aura far more sinister, nothing that would draw you to him like what had drawn you to your husband at the very beginning.

“Very well, human queen.” He grinned, his grin sharp and his smile crooked. “Does your oblivious husband know you killed your own father and only accepted his marriage proposal to get spared from the torture fields?”

Your blood froze.

“I see, that’s enough of an answer. When I heard your father went away a decade ago, but I couldn’t track him down, I found it very suspicious, so I did a background check on you. What came to light truly fascinated me.” He put his index finger on his chin. “You and the god of the underworld are so similar. That you accepted his marriage proposal solely for that purpose, I only guessed. But I know you stupid, greedy humans. You’re all the same. In comparison to you, your sister is very talkative though as she had come all the way down here by herself.”

Your jaw dropped. “My… sister?” You were conflicted about what to do first as you did everything at once, gasping, breathing and talking simultaneously. “My sister is here? Alone? My sister can't be here, she’s practically still a child!”

“She’s very mature for her age,” the sea god explained, partially smugly, partially matter-of-factly. “She reached out to me herself through a summoner that she had tracked down in a nearby village and even offered her life, wanted me to trade hers for yours. Unfortunately, that was when I found out you ate our food already. What a pity.” He let out a long sigh and touched his forehead as though annoyed in a phony manner. “And now that you’re even queen of the underworld, I’m not allowed to go through with my plans.” When he fixed his gaze back on you, his expression had some kind of madness to it that caused goose bumps to appear all over your body, and not the pleasant ones. “But that doesn’t mean that I cannot still have a bit of fun. Let’s see how much you both love each other.”

The undersea palace was equally impressive as the dark palace, the entire building forged of corals of different colors, lightning coming from the sun that was still able to make its way through the entire ocean’s depth until the last rays reached down here. It seemed like a lively and vibrant place with the residents also breathing air as water was kept outside, many mortals roaming around in colorful attires that reminded you of another part of the earth. The palace was like an own world in the middle of the undersea, but it was exactly this colorful and lively world that you would make the worst memory with.

The sea god suddenly spread out his arms like wings. Behind him, where a mass of deep blue curtain had adorned the back wall of the throne hall until now, a glass window revealed itself when the thick fabric parted, presenting the foggish undersea through a hole as big as a human’s house. The view was striking and intimidating at the same time, and you would have appreciated the sight for a bit longer if it weren’t for your sister who you found swimming like a fish in an aquarium behind the glass, a tiny dot on a huge painting.

Her long hair was floating around her head like a halo, her skirts spread like a summer breeze had lifted them up, and it would all have been a heavenly painting with the fishes swimming across the picture if it weren’t for the look of horror in her eyes that she directed at you from the moment the curtains parted.

“I heard,” the sea god pulled you out of your petrifying realizations, “humans can only live approximately three minutes without air. How long will your sister make it? I think she’s already been in there for more than a minute.”

You panicked, and for a few heartbeats, you had to deal with a blackout about how to proceed, how to save your sister. Luckily, rationality kicked back in and you acted on implementing your first idea. The sea god watched you running around while continuously wearing his mocking smirk, heading into different directions in search of something that could break the glass.

You heard him laugh, his petrol blue strands shaking in the same rhythm as his dancing shoulders when you took a chair into your hands and dragged it to the massive glass window behind the dais. You were of a natural build, but that didn’t mean you were weak for a woman. Years of working on the fields finally paid off when you heaved the chair up and slammed it against the glass, over and over again.

The more often the chair came in contact with the surface, the weaker your arms and the bigger your panic grew as time passed uncontrollably and you knew that soon, it would be too late.

“It’s not human glass. A chair cannot break it. It was amusing watching you though, but now it gets boring,” the sea god snickered and yawned. “Humans… such imbeciles.”

You hadn’t noticed how tears started streaming down your face, hot and wet, until you desperately laid your palms against the glass, trying to make out your sister’s body. But at this point, she had already floated so far away, you could barely spot her anymore, perhaps mainly also because of your tear-smeared vision.

You sank onto your knees, hands sliding down the glass as you felt hope shrinking the further you lowered your position, until you were a crying mess on the ground. Your sister would now die and it was entirely your fault - because you were so selfish and only thought about saving yourself. Just like back then with your father.

But suddenly, your hiccups stopped in unison with your tears when you felt something prick against your right thigh, and you gasped when a fact dawned on you: There was still hope. Before you had ridden off, Jaehyun had strapped an item around your leg that you had shortly forgotten about.

A knife.

“Take this with you,” your husband had said. “It’s made from the strongest material to ever exist, in this and the human world. It cannot kill an immortal, but it can break through every surface imaginable.”

Like he had seen coming, because he had been in a feud with the sea god for a long time already. Like he had wanted to prepare you for every possible situation that could occur.

The moment the glass broke with only a single strike of you and water mercilessly swamped into the hall, you just thought about how much you loved your husband and that it was only thanks to him that you were now able to hold your sister in your arms again - breathing and alive.

And that you hadn’t killed another family member and would never need to again.

____

Your little sister was shivering in your arms, but you tried your best to keep her warm with your coat while you were wearing Taeyong’s as you were equally cold after the throne hall in the undersea palace had been entirely swamped.

“I’m tired,” your sister yawned.

It had been an almost impossible battle to get her out of there with the sea god going on a rampage after you broke the glass, and without Taeyong’s help, it wouldn’t have been successful at all, but here you were now, both exhausted and injured, but alive. That was all that mattered.

“Not long anymore,” you assured her.

Not long anymore and you would be back at the dark palace. It had only been two days, but the further you approached the location, the more your anticipation grew to finally see your husband again. You hadn’t been aware of how much you actually missed and longed for him until the moment you felt him by your side when you saved your sister - with his help.

“Where are we going, sis?”

Taeyong was controlling the horse from the back while you and your sister were seated in front of him. You slung your arms tighter around her before you answered,

“My home.”

“But your home is with me,” she protested weakly before dozing off again, and you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her the truth just yet.

“She can also live here, you know,” Taeyong told you quietly from behind. “If Jaehyun breaks the bargain she made with the sea god, she will be able to stay.”

“Her heart is not as dark as mine, her past not as tarnished, her future not as corrupted. She doesn’t belong here,” you defended her. “I’m darkness and she’s light. She belongs to where flowers grow, where spring returns and where she can see the sun rise every day.”

“You’re also everything that she is, do you know that?”

“You heard the sea god talking about my background. I don’t have an excuse for the things that I did to our father. If I don’t belong to the torture fields, who does?”

“Your father,” was Taeyong’s matter-of-fact reply.

You added, “And I would have to follow him.”

“That is not true,” he disagreed. “I’m not Jaehyun, but I’m positive that this is not true. He wouldn’t have sent you to the torture fields if you had died one day on earth as a human. I know your entire story now, and he wouldn’t have done that.”

“Even if that were possible…” you smiled sadly into the slowly falling night, “how would my husband react if he knew that I had initially agreed to this marriage just to avert my possible destiny?”

“You only wanted to do what you had to do in order to survive. That’s normal. That’s not even human only, that’s instinct we all carry within us.”

“I don’t want him to send me away,” you admitted, voice cracking and making way for tears that threatened to spill behind your eyes. “I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here and only because of him, not because of my position or my title.”

With your front teeth sinking into your bottom lip and nearly making it bleed, you held yourself back from crying the nth time today.

“Sounds like you married him for other reasons as well,” Taeyong concluded with a lighter tone in his voice. “In the end, isn’t that all that matters now?”

“I don’t want him to regret choosing me,” you added hesitantly, stroking your sister’s damp hair as the fist spires of the dark palace came into sight, even in the settling darkness.

“Jaehyun has been the god of the underworld for an eternity already. As I said, never has he ever made a wrong decision. He has risked everything to get you. All you have to be is as courageous and confident as him, and believe in your love.”

Love…?

Was it even possible to love someone you didn’t entirely know?

The last part of the way was covered in silence, and you expected your husband to be already asleep by now as night had long fallen. But you were able to make out the shape of his body even from miles afar. He stood in front of the gate as though he had known exactly when you would return - or had been standing there the past two days and nights.

You didn’t even have to ride all the way to the gates. Jaehyun came running in your direction, his crown falling off his head while sprinting, but he didn’t seem to care about that.

“My wife,” he greeted you when you slid from the horse and into his arms, welcomed back into the darkness to where you belonged, but that suddenly didn’t feel so cold and threatening anymore. It felt warm. Just like home.

Not “little rose”, not “my queen”.

But “my wife” you were now.

You couldn’t lie to him any longer.

____

You gazed at your husband who was sleeping soundly next to you. Even though night had not given way to daytime yet, you couldn’t sleep anymore, too many thoughts keeping you restless and awake.

Upon your return, you and your sister had been examined by a physician, but to your both luck, you had escaped with only minor injuries such as scratches from the broken glass. Yet, you had demanded for her to be observed the entire night. Initially, you had wanted to stay by her side yourself, but the physician had required absolute quietness and bedrest for her as she would sleep for many more hours, so you had decided to stay by Jaehyun’s side in the meantime.

For what seemed like hours, you had talked. And reliving the entire story in your tellings had you crying in your husband’s arms once again, partly because of the horror, partly because of the relief that you had been able to save your sister.

“She cannot stay here for long,” Jaehyun had made clear after comforting you until all your tears had subsided. “Part of her bargain was giving up one year of her life for every day she stays in the godly realms, so she has to recover fast and hurry home.”

How were you supposed to tell him that this wasn’t the only thing you were worried about? Now that your sister was here to take you back, but with you having already eaten the pomegranate seeds, you didn’t have a choice anymore. Deep inside, you deemed yourself lucky that you didn’t even have to make one in the first place afterwards.

Because that would mean that you would have had to hurt someone consciously. And it wouldn’t have been your husband.

Which was why you had decided to come clean with him now.

You were sitting next to him, stretching out your hand and gently tracing the outline of his jaw. He was so ethereally beautiful, it nearly made your breath catch again. But that wasn’t the reason why you wanted to stay by his side forever.

It was because, after living a quarter of a human lifetime, you had finally found the place where you belonged. You had found your counterpart, your partner for eternity, your equal, your twin flame. The one who accepted every edge of your soul, no matter how frayed it was. At least, out of all mortals and immortals, he was willing to.

But would he still be if he had explored every last part of the darkness inside of you?

“Why did you stop?”

You hadn’t noticed how you had halted your motions, your fingers coming to a stop right under Jaehyun’s bottom lip.

“Good morning,” you whispered with a smile, and he kissed the tip of your index finger.

“It’s long not morning yet.” He looked at you, but he wasn’t mirroring your expression. “What are you so sad for?”

So, he had seen right through you already. You gulped. “I had a bad dream,” you said.

“Tell me about it.”

“I dreamed that you left me.”

Jaehyun let out a light-hearted chuckle that was still hoarse from sleep. “Why would I ever do that?”

“Because I might not be the person you think I am. The more you get to know me…”

But he didn’t let you finish, which you gladly accepted, because you were unsure about how to end the sentence anyway. “In my entire lifetime, I have never made one decision that I regretted, not even after an eternity. And you’re one of them.”

“I wish I could believe you.”

What your husband said next made you possibly love him even more. He didn’t tell you the usual phrases that any man would tell their wives in order to silence them for they got too annoyed. Instead, he said,

“You’re the queen of the underworld now. You have to believe in yourself first.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that in your own words how much you have come to love him though. Instead, you bent down to him and covered his mouth with yours in a passionate kiss.

“You know, we were never able to celebrate our wedding night.”

“You mean what happened in the hallway earlier didn’t count?” he wondered with feigned innocence as though he hadn’t been the one ripping your clothes apart the moment you were finally alone and hastily took you on the stairs right there and then.

You tugged on the hem of your nightgown, sliding the thin fabric over your head and simultaneously motioning towards Jaehyun until you were sitting naked on his lap. “That was your present for me. Here’s my present for you.”

The way your husband moaned into your ear when you were hovering over him shortly later, your hips coming down on his in a steady rhythm and your nipples grazing over his muscular chest, made you wonder if this was the last time that you would be able to hear him utter sounds like this.

You were bouncing up and down the mattress, knees already strained as you leaned backwards and braced yourself against his shins with your hands, arching your spine in such a way to give him full access to your whole body.

And he did worship it, every single inch, every part you considered a human flaw. His hands trailed upwards, stopping by your breasts and kneading them gently as he met your hip motions with thrusts that hit all your sensitive spots inside through the curved angle.

Your face was turned against the ceiling as you decided to close your eyes, your hair cascading past your shoulder and winding with each rock of your groins. Only a little longer, you swore to yourself. For only a little longer, you wanted to stop time and lived in this moment as long as possible.

But your body was human even though you couldn’t age in the godly realms, it painfully reminded you of that when Jaehyun dropped his palm and his fingers landed on your clit. You didn’t have the same stamina, nor the same endurance to prolong and go on for hours, so when you came undone right above your husband with a scream, body and soul, you felt betrayed by your own remaining humanity.

You fully rode out your orgasm, but as Jaehyun made a move to take the lead now and flip you around, you pinned him in that position by locking his arms in place with your hands. Even though he was able to change positions easily, he didn’t, and having you dominating turned him on so much, it didn’t take you much more until he cum in long spurts all inside of you himself.

“I never believed you were a virgin in the first place,” Jaehyun breathed under you. “But that you were capable of doing these kinds of things, I didn’t believe either. I’m impressed.”

“There is so much more to me you won’t believe I’m capable of,” you said, gaze stoically directed at the wall behind him, not moving from his lap to cuddle with him like usual, and he noticed.

“Didn’t we talk about this?” Jaehyun brushed it off, assuming this was what withheld you from coming closer to him. “Peccadillos.”

You inhaled deeply, then lowered your gaze, hiding behind strands of your loose hair, because that was how cowardly you actually were. “Ten years ago, I killed my father in a cold blooded murder,” you finally confessed. “Now, do you still want me as your wife?”

____

Jaehyun found you much later in one of the endless corridors as you had run away right after your confession. You had roamed through the palace in the meantime, at a loss about where to continue from here, and because you were afraid of his reaction. After all, you were always good at running away from things, no matter whether they were crimes or feelings.

As redness crested the horizon, you were leaning out of the window, guilty, but simultaneously full of relief to still see another dayrise.

“You can think of a punishment fit for my crime,” you offered to Jaehyun without turning around. “I won’t mind.”

Whatever it might be, it couldn’t be as horrific as suffering on the torture fields for eternity. At least, he couldn’t punish you with that. That was all you had wanted, wasn’t it?

“I cannot judge over my equal,” your husband replied monotonously. “Only the god who reigns over all godly realms can.”

“Oh, so it’s like this.” You had thought you were oh so smart to trick yourself into staying in the underworld as a mortal only to find out that there was possibly a much more gruesome punishment than what Jaehyun would have had in store for you. “I was wrong in the end.”

All this time, you had had this secret locked away in a chest that you had thrown into the deepest abyss of your heart, pretending it was whole when it was frayed on every edge. Once you unlocked the chest that you had sealed shut for nearly a decade, the darkness that was kept within would consume all of you. Perhaps, right now was the perfect time to face it.

“When I was much younger,” you began deliberately, staring out of the window while sensing your husband approaching you with deliberate steps, “and my little sister barely a toddler, my father came home one night, totally drunk. At that point, he had been drinking almost every day for a few years already. What he earned from his cabinetwork and from what we sold in crops, vegetables and fruits, he spent it satisfying his addiction. My mother was always very careful to put us to sleep before he came home, but I was already old enough to witness with my own eyes and ears what was going on each night. Every morning, my mother came out of the bedroom with another bruise showing on her body when my father had long gone out again. That certain night though, he was thrashing around furniture, even waking my baby sister up who I then carried around. When I opened the door, he shoved the table against my mother, hitting her legs with full force and rendering her unconscious. Upon seeing us, he snatched my little sister out of my arms.”

“Please.” Jaehyun’s attire made a rustling sound and then stilled, but he didn’t reach out to touch you. Outwardly, you reacted as though you didn’t care. You didn’t want to care. Inwardly, you longed for his fingers traveling over your thighs just one more time. But he was willing to give you the space you needed. “You don-.”

“That night, I killed him,” you cut him off, because you knew that if you didn’t do it now, you might never come so far again. “When he didn’t want to let go of my sister and give her back to me, preparing himself to do to her what he did to our mother, I took a knife and stabbed him many, many times. My sister’s crying was ringing in my ears long after he was dead, but I was still stabbing. I managed to calm my baby sister down and put her back to sleep. I tended my mother’s wounds and also brought her to bed before I took my father’s corpse and buried it deep in the woods. I spent half of the night digging his grave, the other half cleaning the wood off his blood. The next day, I told everyone I chased him off and he would never come back to hurt them again. The relief in their eyes made up for everything. They were so happy they were finally able to live in peace. But me? I have never found peace. I sacrificed my own happiness for my family. And I don’t regret it. I was only a teenager when I made that decision.”

With every syllable, you felt the darkness eating up a bigger part of your heart, and it wouldn’t be long until it had digested the entire organ. That was what you had always been afraid of, but it was also very relieving on the other hand. There was no pain anymore, just deep satisfaction, indicating a hint of regret for not having done it sooner.

Jaehyun didn’t say anything afterwards, but you were prepared for everything that would happen now. At least, you could move on, at peace with yourself after a decade.

“My soul might be dark, but I was not suffering. I was only afraid of what the darkness would do to me if I didn’t keep it locked, under control. That I would hurt more people, especially my family. But I would do it over and over again if this is the only way to keep my family safe from monsters. Even if this monster is me. But you have to understand…” You finally shifted around to your husband, revealing a face wet from tears. “When I ate the seeds, I had already decided to be your queen. But not for the same purpose for which I have decided to be your wife. When I decided to be your queen, it was because of the fear of ending on the torture fields myself if I ever got the chance to return to the mortal world. I thought I didn’t deserve to continue living on earth alongside pure people like my mother and sister, because I’m so filthy and corrupted. It was for my own protection, I was so scared after visiting the fields, that’s why I ate the seeds.”

You fell down to your knees and the thin fabric of your nightgown couldn’t cushion the pain that you felt when you smashed against the marble. But you didn’t care. The only thing important to you now was to not lose your husband. You wanted to fight for him so that if he were to let you go, you could say you had been finally courageous and confident enough to have fought for your love.

Yes, love.

“But when I decided to be your wife too, it was because I whole-heartedly wanted to stay by your side, because I-” The following confession twisted your guts, because you had never believed you would be able to say this to someone or even feel a sliver of it one day. But it was true, every single syllable. “Because I love you.”

For a long moment, nothing happened, only your whimpers and sobs filling in the silence that stretched in the hallway, and the more you waited for a reaction, the more agonized you turned to the point of coming to accept the truth that you might have lost your husband forever. You cried even more.

“I finally understand.” You then felt Jaehyun’s fingertips on your skin, wandering along your shoulder and eventually resting there. “All those years, you dedicated yourself to a simple, peaceful lifestyle to conceal the bloody tumult that you’ve been through. In contrast to your flowery, colorful appearance, your soul was dark and suffering.”

The tip of his index finger then traveled to your chin and lifted it up, and the man whose eyes you locked with were neither your husband here in the palace nor the god of the underworld in the hall of judgment. Somehow they were both.

“If possible, I might love you even more now,” he said before he kissed your tear-stained lips.

____

You shouldn’t sit in the hall of judgment the same day when your sister still wasn’t awake, but there was something you had to be shown according to Jaehyun, which was why he had ridden with you all across the deadlands again.

Today, there was no soul awaiting their judgment, so you wondered why you had been brought here in the first place. Painfully, the truth dawned on you though as Jaehyun urged you to stand in front of the dais and he took his own seat on his throne, the one in which you were supposed to sit empty this time.

You were the one to be judged.

“There was something I have only informed you shortly about the first time you were here,” your husband then opened up as he settled in his throne. “The fact that none of the souls entering the hall has to tell me their backstories. It would consume too much time and they would be able to conceal parts for they cannot straight up lie. I know their entire lives, histories and stories upon entering, they only tell me their point of view, their opinion. And…” He took a meaningful, long pause. “With every soul, I mean every human, dead or alive.”

You stared at him for a moment, your brain processing what then washed over you in shocking realization all at once. With your hand, you covered your mouth, swallowing a gasp. “You always knew?!”

Only then, you were able to relive the scene from three days ago when Taeyong broke down the news to you that someone from your family had come to get you. Jaehyun had known about the circumstances which made you believe that none of them were able to come down here despite you never having told him anything about your mother’s condition and your sister’s age yourself. But back then, you had been so stressed, it had totally passed by you. He had indeed always known.

“It’s true, a decade ago on earth you made a drastic decision to self-judge and rob your father of his life, but you didn’t bring this fate over him. I did when I decided to throw him onto the torture fields. I did the exact same thing as you. So why would I punish you for something that hadn’t only protected you, but also the people you love the most?”

For that, you didn’t have an answer. That your actions could be justifiable, you had always talked yourself into. But you had never been able to shake off the shadow that sometimes crossed your mother’s face when someone mentioned your father or your sister getting bullied for not having one. They believed he was still alive, but didn’t fear he would ever return. If they knew the entire truth, it wouldn’t change anything about their mindset other than seeing you as an entirely different person.

Yes, your lives had gotten considerably better without your father in regards to the living circumstances as he had barely financially and emotionally supported your family anyway. But by the looks of the village people, it had only brought you shame and misfortune to live like this as no one had wanted to marry your handicapped, single mother again - or even you. Subconsciously, you perpetually felt guilty for that you had to live the way you used to live. This all, you also told Jaehyun, and he only shook his head.

“You cannot blame them for feeling this way like they cannot blame you for saving their lives. What if your father was still alive? This is a scenario nobody can answer to rightfully. You couldn’t have sat around, waiting until he would change. Perhaps, you would have lost more than one person. Even when the tiniest part inside of them blames you for not having him around anymore, even if they knew the entire truth, you don’t have to blame yourself too and make amends by playing the commendable child when there is so much more to you.”

“Much… more?”

“You were leading the life of a good daughter, always obedient, always loving. You grew flowers in hope they could conceal the darkness in your heart. But the truth is…” Jaehyun arose from his throne, carefully stepping down the stairs while keeping his hands hidden behind his back, “with the darkness that had settled inside you that day, you would have never been able to live a fulfilling life on earth, that was why you had decided to stay with me in the first place, not because you were scared. You were never afraid of me or anything else down here. You always only wanted to believe that because your mortal side couldn’t justify your true feelings. The moment I saw the true you, I realized I couldn’t let you go. Everything I said, none of that has ever been a lie, I always knew who you were.”

Was that true? Had he seen right through you from the very beginning? The day you had entered the hall from the very first time was the day he had proposed the throne to you without a second thought.

“You fought hard against this, against us, because you thought you owed your life to your mother and sister as you might have ruined theirs to the point of nearly forgetting that you can bloom in your very own way when you don’t dedicate your life to someone else. Of course you love them, but be brave and start loving yourself equally as much. Just like I do.”

For a split second, you were asking yourself whether you had made the wrong decision to eat the pomegranate seeds out of your own free will. But that was what it all boiled down to: Everything you had done happened out of your own free will that you had always been possessing as a human, even here, even now still.

“Listen,” Jaehyun spoke gently when he finally stood in front of you, on the same level, as equals again. “To be my queen is not a duty just any human is capable of. It’s difficult, straining for body and soul, and requires a lot of self-control to not lose your mind. I wouldn’t have proposed this position to you if I hadn’t been sure you harbored all that. Your story has only assured me of the fact that in you, I wouldn’t only find a wife, but someone who thinks and acts the same as me. So today, I pronounce your sentence.”

Even though his words had been sweet and everything you had been longing to hear, the last statement made you shudder. Would he still send you away?

“My sentence for you is to be my queen, to stay by my side and reign alongside me always. Will you accept it?”

You felt something getting placed on the very top of your head. When you raised your arm and came in contact with the object, you touched something heavy and spiky - your very own crown, made of darkness and flowers that would never wither. You had exchanged flowers and pastels for flames and darkness.

“As I said,” your husband smiled proudly this time, “never in my entire lifespan have I ever made a wrong decision. You chose me. You love me. This is real, not the seven silly seeds you ate sealed the deal, but your love for me.”

The king of the underworld had accepted you. He was both the kindest and cruelest thing that had ever happened to you, even if others wouldn’t perceive your tale like this. He had seen the darkness that resided inside you demanded its own throne, and he had shown you how a love like yours could turn even the coldest realm into a warm home.

You had never been afraid. You had never been held captive. You had voluntarily stayed. Why would you have cared about being a human bride when you could have been an eternal queen all along?

Oh, how you wished for everyone to know that the god of darkness who you could also call your husband, had the silkiest hair that felt especially soft when he was on his knees, coaxing spring from inside of you with your thighs wrapped around his neck.

____

“But I don’t want to leave without you,” your sister sobbed and wrapped her arms around you just a bit tighter. “Why can’t you come with me?”

By now, you weren’t able to hold your tears back anymore either, and you just cried in each other’s arms. The horse was already settled and stood by the main gate not far from you. Taeyong had volunteered to bring her back and was waiting there.

“As I told you,” you explained patiently for the nth time to your little sister, “I cannot leave.”

“Did you truly eat the seeds of your own free will?” she asked warily.

You nodded. “I did.”

You weren’t able to bring yourself to tell her the entire truth. One day, if you would ever get the possibility, when she was only a bit older and your paths crossed again, you promised to yourself that you would.

“But how could you! He took you from the earth to a world where not a single living thing can grow and live!”

“Sister, have you seen that every single flower on earth withers away?” You pried her from you and flashed an encouraging smile, all through the veil of blurring goodbye tears. “Where is the difference? Our garden might only be small, but whatever grows there blossoms to its full potential, just like I can.”

“I don’t understand, sis.”

“You don’t have to understand. You only have to believe me.”

“What will I tell mother?” she wanted to know. “She misses you.”

“Tell her I miss her too. And that she’s going to be fine. You’re both going to be fine, even without me.”

“Sis, when will I see you again?”

Another wave of sadness rolled over you, but you swallowed it down this time and brushed over your sister’s hair in a reassuring gesture. “I don’t know.”

“How will I live life without you?”

“Stay kind, confident and courageous, always believe in yourself. After all, you made it all the way down here by yourself only. I wouldn’t have been able to, but you did all that. Do you know how proud you can be of yourself, sis? You’re going to grow up to be such a beautiful, smart and brave woman. I’m certain about that, and I’m already so proud of you, don’t you ever forget that.”

“Actually,” a manly voice interrupted you, and you both simultaneously turned to the side to watch your husband speak, “you don’t have to worry about that, dear. Your sister will come with you.”

“What?” you both called out, also simultaneously, but the fine difference lied in either of your tones.

While your sister’s was full of joy, you barely brought out a syllable that wasn’t dripping with worry and fear. Why would Jaehyun suggest something like that? Had he already forgotten everything he had said to you since your wedding day?

But the smile that spread across your husband’s lips was full of happiness like your sister’s with no hint of grudge as he approached you and placed his palms on each side of your face, looking at you with much love as opposed to his statement. You didn’t understand.

“Why are you sending me away?” you wanted to scream, but only brought out a whisper, fingers clutching onto the hem of his shirt. “Please don’t send me away!”

“I’m not sending you away.” His thumbs caressed your cheeks, and you only noticed then that something had changed in his eyes. It wasn’t a look or a feeling that had been there before, and not weighing on the negative side either. In fact, nothing had been replaced or exchanged, only something slightly different that you couldn’t pinpoint. Perhaps, it was all in your mind after all. “I’m sending you to live with your mother and sister each year for six months, spring throughout summer.”

Your brain was still processing when your sister was already expressing her joy through little bumps and screams that gradually turned into a singsong about how you were returning home.

“Don’t worry,” Jaehyun calmed you down. “You are the bones of my spine, the ground beneath my feet, the air I’m breathing in. How could I possibly ever live without you again?”

“But-!”

He silenced you by putting his index finger on your lip. “Every year, when the first flowers bloom, you will be able to return to earth to live with your family. When you see the first leaves falling, that is when I will take you back to the underworld. You will bring spring, bursting with light, and leave with winter, dreary and cold. Does this duality fascinate you too?”

You had so many questions, first and foremost what he traded your freedom for, but you also didn’t have time to ask any of them anymore as every minute that you lingered in the underworld robbed a sliver of your sister’s lifespan.

You expressed your gratitude through hasty kisses with his arms slung around your back regardless of the presence of the other two as these would need to get you through the next months.

“I don’t want you to feel lonely again when I’m gone,” you said to him.

“Don’t worry about that,” he reassured you. “I was patiently waiting half an eternity for you. I can wait another few months every year as long as you always come back to me.”

From now on, you could see yourself as a child of spring, wearing pastel colors and flowers in your hair on earth, and when returning home that was literally the underworld, donned all in black, you would pass sentence on lost souls in the hall of judgment as the queen of hell.

Yes, such duality fascinated you very much.

“Will you wait for me?” you asked when you were seated on the horse’s back with your sister in front and Taeyong behind you.

“Even if it takes you an eternity to come back to me.”

You leaned down, your husband embracing your cheeks on either side and giving you a long kiss that was supposed to last a few months in the moment a breeze came by and lifted the strands of your hair up in a swirl.

He trembled under the last gaze you threw at him before you rode off.

It wasn’t a punishment, it was a reward - for you to see your mother and sister again, and live where flowers grew and never see them wither again.

After all, you’d come back this time, every time.

Out of your own free will.

_____

Jaehyun had known he should have regretted that certain forenoon of hasty decisions on earth. He had sensed you before he even saw you, soft, warm, light - everything he needed his future queen to be, so he didn’t look further as he had gotten spared only one day.

There, in your mother’s garden, sun on your nose and wind in your hair, enveloped in the intense scent of yet to bloom flowers, it made even the hardest of hearts unharden, and suddenly the god of the underworld was only a man with an uncontrollable longing for your innocent sweetness.

“She’s coming back today,” Taeyong said, pulling Jaehyun out of his thoughts. “I’ll pick her up from the river and bring her here.”

“Very well,” Jaehyun answered, trying to downplay his excitement to welcome back his wife after so many months.

But his friend wouldn’t stop budging. “So, when are you going to tell her? What you traded her freedom for?”

“Possibly never, this is not something she will easily find out anyway. It’s not like I traded being a king, a god. We’ll be fine.”

“As long as no one wants to see you dead,” Taeyong stated with rolling eyes.

“Then let’s hope we’ll live alongside in peace,” the king answered dryly and his friend only gave him a long, last sigh in response before riding off to his duty.

Jaehyun had searched for a fitting wife for so long, sick of isolation and darkness, but no one living in the godly realms matched with what he had been looking for. Every resident was involved in an endless game of rivalry, too cunning, too vile to make his already hard life easier. He needed someone simple, timid and narrow-minded who would gladly accept what a god could offer to them without a single complaint. A human.

But the person he had chosen wasn’t all that. In a garden full of colorful plants, he had plucked the most dangerous flower of all. She was as beautiful as a rose, lulling him with her pure appearance and sugary scent, but her thorns stung and could cause him great harm.

Even on that day, he hadn’t made a wrong decision, though it had looked like it in the very beginning as it all boiled down to either his instincts, luck or coincidence. But somehow, he had ended up combining all three and chose her.

His human guest only needed time, he had thought when she fought him like a panther in a cage upon their first meeting, so he had given her a few days to adjust and then intended to break down the advantages for her, hoping she would finally settle here in peace and then do for what he had brought her here: offering him company in all senses.

When she had walked into the dining room that one evening though, in a pastel silk dress he had chosen for his wife himself, looking and smelling like a freshly bloomed flower, but with eyes so fierce, Jaehyun swore he saw fire burning inside them, flames so intense like the ones on the torture fields.

Just like now.

She hadn’t changed one bit since the day they had said goodbye to each other. Dressed all in black now with fiery eyes, she had returned to him, her attire as splendid as the crown in her hair, fitting for the queen of the underworld who was about to start her duties.

They were grinning at each other from afar already, and she was coming to a halt right in front of the dais.

“You’re back,” Jaehyun stated stoically, but his voice shook with emotion when he arose. “I missed you.”

“I am,” you whispered. “And I missed you too.”

When he had been an immortal god, he had felt invincible. But Jaehyun hadn’t felt like this in months, and for a long while, he had been worried about that, about never being able to feel so powerful again.

But as he was holding his wife and his queen in his arms again after such a long period of separation, inhaling her scent, feeling her soft skin, hearing her warm voice whispering his name, he suddenly regained all of what he had thought lost when he had traded his immortality for her freedom, for her true happiness.

He didn’t need his immortality to feel immortal.

He only needed her.

#jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #nct #nct 127 #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun smut #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x you #nct smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct x you #nct 127 x you #nct 127 smut #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines

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delicrieux · 2 months ago

Text

. . . l'oeuf

˙⋆✮ summary. just another evening at henry's.

pairing. henry winter x f!reader warnings. smoking, swearing, mentioned drug use, bad aspirin use specifically, use of alcohol, +18 (p n v sex, no condom henry DOES NOT care, very minimal dirty talk), pretentiousness, an inkling of classicism, bunny™ wc. 6.9k ✧˖°.

author's note. happy october everyone ! i always wanted to write smth for the loml henry winter but i never had the patience to sit down and do it. well, now i did. this was written with prompt 1. thick, acrid smoke. feel free to rqs more for the prompty thingies! x . . . side note! the fic is named by this song since i listened to it while writing. you can draw a metaphor from it if willing

creds. hd., div.

mlist | buy me coffee ♡ྀ

it was at the start of october on that fateful senior year that you had found yourself in henry winter's illustrious townhouse. from the lacquered brazillian hardwood floorboards to the ivory plasterwork on the ceilings – every corner pertained a certain degree of finery that reflected poorly on the rest of its objects: a well-worn armchair perpetually stuck in henry’s physique and fraying at the edges, the trampled rug that snaked upstairs and held all of your secrets, the coffee table with too many wine stains. in the dim light, the dried rorschach looked like blood.

the present company consisted of six and was slowly dwindling. your dear friend francis, the only boy who had never cared to peek up your skirt in childhood tennis practice, was a moment from collapsing into himself like a weary, old star. holding a champagne coupe from which he exclusively drunk only campari, he had thrown himself over henry’s couch not unlike a discontent lead from a penny dreadful novel. his face kept twisting according to the sounds: bunny’s voice was met with pursed lips and a tightly shut eye (only one, closest to bunny’s person sat by the aforementioned coffee table), charles’ – with a look of defeated boredom, and in the odd bouts of silence and music, bliss.

you offered him a cigarette, and he barely managed to crane his neck to kiss the knuckles of a helping hand before he snatched it away and searched his pockets for a lighter.

sweet camilla sat by the fire, with her knees drawn to her chest. one black stocking was torn on the side, rippling up her calf and sneaking into her inner knee, an action bunny had noted and all had taken particular interest in. there had been a metaphor about literature resembling her glossy stockings – all that language and reference weaved into a fabric that stretched till it could no more, thus marking the end of innovation and intertextuality. a book can only fit so much, and as all of them cared for ancient greek only – a language that no one spoke, and so, could never refine past its perfect state – the topic soon waned in favor of more brandy.

bunny cowed a story about richard papen, the outsider that had joined their coterie, who was not present, as he had not been invited. he was a fine orator, had a specific sense of humor that, while not always understood, could charm an audience when fidgeted with enough. only bunny was too drunk, and his glass of whiskey kept spilling on his trousers till it left an undignified blotch crowned by cigarette ashes, which only painted him a blubbering buffoon. ‘the fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool,’ came to mind as you admired the embers dancing in the halo of his blond hair.

then, there was charles, drunk as always, who had opted to lay by camilla’s feet, the place where bunny’s drunken attempts of metaphor had landed him.

lastly, there was henry, your own personal virgil, who had not wanted you to come, but allowed it still. he looked tired from across the room, an arm thrown over the cushions of the armchair in which he sat. in his left hand he held a book, a cover and a title too out of frame for your eyes to see; amber reflected in his wiry glasses, the color of his brandy bottle (half empty) before the orange glow of the fire burned it copper. a plume of cigarette smoke curled into the ceiling from his two fingers. only he could have full concentration among the chaotic symphony in the living room.

the record spun to silence, and you quickly abated your seat on the windowsill to pad to the cabinet and change the vinyl. the collection of classics had not increased since your last visit, which was roughly a week ago, and it had not changed since henry moved out the dorms during the winter of your junior year. there were chopin’s nocturnes and etudes, beethoven’s piano sonatas, and wagner’s tristan and isolda, just to name a few. something lulling, quiet. you picked debussy and placed the needle. lilting, soft and steady, like you supposed love would feel.

instantly, you were met with bunny’s ire.

“no, no,” a wave and a body too weak to stop you. you ensured he was gifted your most sly smile, “no, woman, put on somethin’, somethin’ grand,” a larger wave, like a poorly coordinated conductor, he smacked his hand too close to francis’ head. a groan from charles, as if he had grown nauseous from watching the motions, “somethin’ for me and charlie here,”

charles tried to turn away in his discontent, yet did not manage. camilla, concerned, laid a hand on his shoulder, “should we go? i think we should head home.”

“see?” bunny’s accusing tone found you once more, “you’re scaring the guests. put on some real music. like the... the...” he trailed off, lighting another cigarette. for good luck, one could imagine, “like goddamn— listen to led zeppelin, man! the rolling stones!”

you glanced to henry and found yourself surprised. a shared look.

“no such things in our humble repertoire,” you stated.

“mile davis, at least?”

“no,”

“i don’t believe you,”

“you’re free to check for yourself.”

amidst this small argument, which was much too common when dealing with bunny, camilla had somehow managed to wrestle charles into standing on his own two feet. unstable, he leaned onto his sister, the added weight making her stagger.

“goodness, take care of charles,” bunny whined, though his complaints never amounted to more than simple sulking. you chose not to pay them much mind.

it was henry that helped, carefully balancing his book on the armrest and coming to take charles from camilla’s embrace.

“should i drive you home?” he asked.

camilla shook her head, en route to retrieve her red scarf and new coat, “no, no, we’ll call a taxi.”

it was always mildly fascinating watching the two interact. camilla, never able to meet his gaze directly and for too long, and henry, who only ever extended wordless aid without prompt or reason to her only. what had she done to earn such favor was beyond you – beyond everyone, perhaps – but you were certain you weren’t the only one that saw this careful act of piety and kindness.

you observed them shuffle out after moments on the telephone, camilla’s hand ghosting henry’s arm, or grazing the bend of his elbow, and only when they disappeared past the large door to wait for the taxi did you look away.

loving henry winter was a sisyphean task, unworthy of the effort which it required. you thought yourself too smart for it, and thus, never cared to entertain the notion, not even when he kissed you.

you caught bunny staring at you: not scrutinizing, not calculating – simply staring. a curious leer that often fell on you after some semblance of mirth had worn down. almost shy, somewhat longing.

“this richard of yours,” you began, helping yourself to henry’s lucky strike. out of all the brands that you had smoked, this was the most bitter and always left a tart taste in the back of your throat. you craved it, “papen, was it?”

“yup,” bunny mumbled into his glass.

“and how is he?” your gaze jumped from him to francis.

“poor,” bunny said.

“californian,” francis tacked on.

“but he pretends he isn’t,” bunny continued.

“californian?” your brows rose. the smell, the taste – too powerful, almost choking.

“no, no,” bunny shook his head, disoriented for a moment, “rich. pretends to be rich. see, i didn’t tell you this, but,” and he reached for henry’s cigarettes, too, even if his own pack laid abandoned, two-three left untouched. he did this, at times, this odd mimicry: you smoked, he smoked what you did, you drank, he drank what you did, you decided a getaway to italy was your dream destination for a week and later learned he had haggled henry into buying tickets for the two of them, “but i, you know me: never judge a book by its cover, i say. invited him to dinner. the usual place, the one on-”

“god,” francis winced, and if he could move, surely he’d flee, “stop talking.”

“the lady asked, am i to deny her now? i thought he wouldn’t show, but he does, doesn’t he? with a goddamned tweed jacket, like i wouldn’t notice,” he hiccupped mid-explanation, the liquor long congealed into his system, “and, you know, me, i know people. i know people. i see them for what they are, and i knew he was a no good cheat from a mile away, but hey,” a straight spine, a bit proud, “i think to myself, you know what, old man, i’m gonna give this guy a chance. pop’s always-”

“aspirin,” francis interjected, this time directed at you, “bring me some, would you, juliet?”

you snorted, “a moment,”

“thank you, desdemona. you’re a midsummer night’s dream,”

“she’s from othello,”

“my point stands.”

you sauntered off into henry’s kitchen and scoured his cupboards for painkillers. the layout of this place you knew too well – perhaps, even, if you closed your eyes, you could discern each obstacle and map it in front of your eyes with the grace and certainty of a guidebook. you did just that.

behind you, a sudden coldness pierced through the humidity and a door shut harshly. the influx of fresh air was a brief slap to the face.

it’s been silent for a while now.

“what are you doing?” henry’s voice, not close, yet not too far. always observing at a distance, since closeness was never his intention. henry winter. what a fitting name.

“looking for aspirin.”

the tick of an unseen clock.

“top drawer,” there was no urgency; something you didn’t understand was what made him hurry to answer, “i hid them there. bunny keeps stealing my entire cabinet.”

your eyes fluttered open, “my, my. what a snitch,”

“don’t give him the aspirin,”

“it’s for francis,”

“very well.”

an impasse. you closed the cabinet and thought against bringing water with you, knowing it’s unneeded.

“may i?” henry asked, and when you turned to look at him, he was as always – unbreakable, unmovable. expectant, perhaps, his heavy gaze a familiar pressure upon your cheekbones, the curve of your jaw, your swollen mouth (from biting, not being kissed).

“they’re yours,” you said easily, turning the cap and spilling a few into the bed of your palm as he approached, “here.”

to make matters harder, there’s but a foot of space between the two of you. the smallest separation, every part of him and every part of you entangled into one odd constellation. an immensity of motion before him and an immensity of energy after.

“water?”

“whiskey.”

“is it also hidden?”

“no.”

so you retrieved him a glass, and then the bottle, and lastly you poured the amount enough to swallow in one gulp. when he took and drank, and you watched his adam’s apple bob, you wondered, briefly and hazily, was your act in any way similar to camilla’s. a star that constantly drew him into her orbit.

“you didn’t leave,” he uttered quietly, tired eyes flicking to the maw of the kitchen opening. down the foyer, the firelight danced. bunny’s voice rose in a toast, no doubt to shake francis out of his stupor.

“i did,” you said, a slow smile curling, “what you see before you is a specter. the delirious imaginings of an impoverished mind.”

“ridiculous,” the quirk of his eyebrows: mock-offended.

“amusing,” the narrow of your eyes: contagious, “was everything my spirit foretold the same as you saw it unfold?”

weariness. you looked for it and found it easy enough. his fingers flexed, his tongue went behind his teeth. the cogs turned. for all his genius, henry was too susceptible to fable and entirely too superstitious. he could ward himself off it well, yet when his inhibitions were down, there was a hint of something else, a spark of pious faith in the impossible, what not might come next. he kept looking at you for an extended moment, until the corner of his mouth, minutely, drew up into a not-quite-smile.

“hermia!” came francis’ voice from the other room, “i’m dying.”

henry said nothing.

you expected bunny drunkenly swinging an almost empty bottle around to try and cheer up francis (it rarely worked, unless it was wine), and yet, he wasn’t there. the living room felt very big, somehow, devoid of him and the makings of his gullible heart.

“and where is bun?” you questioned, almost scolding.

“bathroom,” francis succeeded sitting up, yet only just.

you heard henry curse under his breath. he disappeared, and soon you heard the continents of a stomach emptying down the hall and henry’s monotone behind a closed door.

“time to end this sabbath, me thinks,” you said. francis took the pills with a fresh glass of campari, nose scrunching from the taste.

“d’you think henry could drive me home?” francis asked.

“do you trust him with your life?”

“do you think he’d let me die?”

“depends,”

“no. i’ll cab it,”

“wise decision.”

henry returned, seemingly exhausted from his small adventure. no one followed after.

“bun?” you asked again, which seemed to displease him. he only shook his head. passed out, then. unfortunate, yet expected. if bunny could somehow gain authority over all of henry’s things – even the minute ones, the ones that don’t matter and exist in the peripherals without henry’s notice – he would. it was the same reason francis once insisted that bunny had been in love with you.

the incident occurred during your first year of college in early november. a rather somber and chilly day with leaves sticking to wet asphalt and stone walls amidst the rainy season. a monday. bunny had broken his ankle and complained terribly about it, and henry, who had become his caretaker, was sick of it and instead abhorred him. by accident and complete mischance, the handling of bunny corcoran had fallen onto your graceful shoulders, and in a single day – full of obsolete complaints and impulsive questions – the theorized affection was born.

if there was a way in which bunny’s countenance had changed in your presence, it was lost on you, for your attention, at the time, was solely pilfered by charles. he was, back then, the most handsome of the greek class, and oddly enough, the only one pleasant, thus you sought his favor. but charles never returned your fondness, no matter how minuscule it could be, and he never gave the impression of fleeting interest. only sometimes, when he thought you would not catch him, he would stare at you for a bit too long. you never got to figure out what he had thought in those moments.

instead, you figured yourself an actor – a pretty one at that – and decided to ignore this indelicate sort of charm and pursue a new mark. there were many, of course, plenty of faces to consider, yet the outcome was always the same. as it were, they were all terribly boring and reminded you greatly of the peers you’ve encountered in private schools, the self-proclaimed intellectuals of the new age that had too much time and too much heartbreak on their hands. good looks aside, not the slightest hint of culture nor comprehension, just money and nothing to show for it.

and then there was henry, of course, so quintessentially different that his existence, still, was hard to define. something outside the realm of you. something above or beyond, or perhaps below – always somewhere you could not reach. there was an irrecoverable arrogance to him and in his aloof demeanor. an inviolable space that never invited others.

yes, there had to be some appeal to the strangeness of him, yet never could you put your finger on what exactly it was. at least, not immediately. at first sight, though, there were more poetic reasons to it – of the tragic and of the divine kind, yet that was no truth but some novel-born whim, a pointless obsession, some meager infatuation. an involuntary fetish. he had not wanted you, which only made it so that you wanted him in turn. it wasn’t an ugly thing – it simply was.

he must’ve known. henry always seemed to possess the knowledge of things you had never dared to question or to think twice of. or, perhaps, maybe not: but, despite your inability to identify the cause of it, there was a certain change to your disposition upon entering his shared room. one, maybe, akin to the sudden fear brought by dark enclosed spaces, though a bit more subtle and complex.

it was, ironically, a winter’s night.

when you phoned the same taxi and requested it’s return, francis spoke in a hazy murmur, sluggishly trying to shrug on the coat you brought him, “god, i really need a cigarette.”

“hm?”

“do you see mine anywhere?”

a rueful search, hands grabbing the scattered glass and hardbound that littered the surface of the coffee table. a valiant attempt to move the couch cushions and dip fingers into the cracks.

“no,”

“well, fuck me,”

henry offered his, but francis refused. the living room lit up in that thick, acrid smoke anyway.

the foyer echoed with your footsteps. outside the townhouse, rain had started again. a few drops at first, tapping the windows, before quickly it grew and gained weight. soon, it was battering against the glass.

with your scarf in your hands you suddenly found yourself unsure what to do with it. the taxi was coming and it was time to go home and plead to a higher power for reprieve from the headache you knew would cripple you in the morning. perhaps, an afternoon tomorrow to mull around, dazed. yet there was no respite in any of that. you realized, then, with this abrupt trepidation, that the cause of your discomfort, or the cause that exacerbated it, was within this confided space. a chasm-deep disquiet, like an open mouth of a ravine, dark and shadowy, or the pull of a tide at sea, which was, as they say, irresistible to even the most levelheaded.

somewhat uneasily, you lingered by the coat hanger, and when francis ambled over, tripping over his own two feet, he downed the rest of his campari and shoved the glass into your useless hands. then, he kissed your cheek, quick and wet, before ripping the door open and shoving it closed behind you, hence halting your escape.

the house was deafened, and your palms itched. the overwhelming urge to twiddle with your scarf became unbearable, or it was because a pair of eyes bore into you from the depths of the room. the closest thing you’ve ever considered to a tangible aura: the smell of ozone and rain water and tobacco.

“don’t suppose he’s waiting in the rain, is he?” you said.

“no, i don’t think he is.”

it didn’t make sense, none of what happened afterward – the decision to face him instead of making off into the chilling night. your arms crossed in a quiet and peculiar motion, clutching the coupe a bit too tight.

“whiskey?” henry offered, and you felt like the silly ingénue in some high-brow noir thriller donning all that cashmere by the door, “or bourbon.”

“fine.”

a crease of his eyebrow – the sole indication of surprise. your jacket found its rightful place on the rack along with that dreaded scarf. hesitance was unfamiliar to you, as you had not known it growing up – neither a sense of propriety nor a loss of footing. the dandy act had been adopted and perfected to such a degree that to relinquish the mask itself was oddly relieving, the discomfort born merely by knowing that francis was aware of your unusual situation and the upcoming events that would take place once the theater was done. there was a brief thought to how henry might’ve perceived you then. perhaps the removal of a layer of pretense might’ve intrigued him, if anything.

you remained at a slight distance and watched him traverse his domain, stepping around the askew items left behind by bunny and a bottle of gin haphazardly upended by charles, warm by the fire. there was an anomalous sort of patience to him. the silence was an abrasion. so often, you found yourself chattering to fill the void, even with other men who took the shape of strangers.

“there’s quite a storm brewing,” you said, only to be met with more silence. when your words simpered, the feeling they left was inexplicably ominous. ‘all that is transitory is but a symbol,’ yet only a bad poet would dare to draw a soliloquy from henry’s figure by the flames.

thus, you sat down on the couch, still warm from francis, and held up the beloved champagne coupe. henry’s hand did not tremble as it poured, but your fingers quivered when his attention fell onto you.

“is it good?”

you never felt the alcohol, only the burning in the back of your throat.

“very,”

he found himself beside you, not too close. the distance was not unlike orpheus’ journey, or so it appeared in the dim firelight – the familiar pangs of the unwilling, the sudden, selfish urge of wanting to see him in his entirety, his visage unhindered

“may i?” you asked, meaning, of course, his cigarette. he acquiesced easily. the only telltale of his everlasting unbothered mien: his focus had, and always seemed to be, too acute. it was enough to unnerve anyone. flattering, perhaps, if only you could tell what he was thinking, but you never could.

in your lap, the half-empty coupe. you left a smudge of your lipstick on the cigarette butt. henry inhaled. it was not unlike a kiss.

“francis mentioned you didn’t want to see me,” you said.

“i didn’t,” he responded.

“a lie, was it then?”

“you assume to know?”

“yes.”

another drag. smoke parted his mouth, slow as molasses and heavy as clouds.

“you’ve changed,” you said.

conversation with henry had always been difficult, before and after your frequent follies in the dark. if you did speak, it was never about one another, or anything that resided past skin and bone, nestled somewhere in the marrow, only felt. in instances where you did find common ground it was only ever art – literature, specifically, and when he was in a good mood, painting. henry only had one fascination and refused to entertain others; here lied his fatal flaw. thus, in a crowd of three and more, you could exchange remarks that would seem and sound important but held no real meaning.

“what sort of change have you noticed?” henry murmured. the lighting cast shadows. his hands twitched.

you were not sure, as you remembered him in much more detail and color. here, ashen-faced and obscured, all you saw was the ghost of his image, as though he had grown morose in a way that a single season could not alter. the greek class had often suffered for the aesthetic – self-imposed punishments of grandeur and excess that to everyone outside their circle seemed quite ridiculous, along with their dark clothes and mysterious miens and enigmatic jokes. some said they were haunted or blessed, but none envied them. alas.

troubled is the closest you could find, though if you were to voice it, he might take you for a child. it was never good to seek out his vulnerability. he would say you could never find it, and, inevitably, it would end up being the truth. henry wasn’t good at love. no one of were.

you shrugged, “you’ve become quiet.”

“am i, now?”

“more so than you’ve been,”

“perhaps you’ve just gotten better at listening,”

“unlikely,”

henry cocked his head. his hand, once again, twitched and there was an urge to reach out and grasp his fingers – some sort of absolution or at least a consolation for something neither one of you might’ve cared to mention. never did the man in front of you appear unsure, yet somehow, despite his best effort to the contrary, you felt a similar trepidation of an undefined thing.

henry was impossible to read. not just a mystery, but undeciphered in ways so beyond the mundane. over the years, you had collected enough clues to form a humble dictionary, yet much of what was missing could only be determined through his own misfortune and complacency – things which would, then, by nature and by fate, stray into your arms.

it did not matter, not entirely, at least. you did not love henry, but you thought that camilla did, and he, in turn, her. once you exhausted your inspection, perhaps you would pass that glossary to her, though you doubted that she would ever find any use for it.

“well,” henry said, “i suppose that’s to be expected. anything else?”

“would you enjoy a dissection?”

henry hummed, perhaps in agreement or curiosity, but it was very possible that he thought you foolish.

“no need,” he said, “yours is transparent.”

“really?” you countered, “they never are. people, i mean.”

“who are you thinking of?”

your mind drifted to bunny, likely curled on the cold tiles of the bathroom. with the first few buttons of his shirt popped and tie loosened, there was the picture of one not withering away but merely on the incline of a steep and lonely hill. all quiet in the dark of a windowless room from which he couldn’t even turn his head and see the stars.

it felt as though he would wake soon and interrupt. his presence always breached spaces he did not occupy, and the anticipation of his arrival always lingered in the air, unspoken but palpable. perhaps bunny would always exist in the shadowy corner-room between you and henry, because, if what francis said was true, henry was the first to know of it and had you, still.

you wondered if he regretted it, if he felt like brutus sticking the first knife into caesar’s rib, closest to the heart. you considered asking: in that moment, the urge felt insurmountable. instead, you said, “a little bit of everyone.”

inclined, you caught his gaze. an abysmal color and a disorienting shade, as deep and gloomy as the woods surrounding mount cataract.

“and me?”

“of course,” you smiled and slid a bit closer, “it’s not like you to ask. have you become sentimental?”

“not exactly,” his eyes moved to his hands. then, the flecks in the fireplace, the piles on the floor, “i’ve been thinking.”

“care to elaborate?”

“no,” he said. you understood his need for privacy, and a small part of you could appreciate his effort, or maybe, rather, that you got something of an answer at all. he did, occasionally, tend to disappear in thought. he remained, despite his reluctance, sitting with you. this, in a way, spoke more to you than the words that could never leave his mouth.

“this weather makes a body wistful,” you told him, “and the greek have always liked their tragedies.”

he clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth before lighting another cigarette, “what do you know of greek?”

always the same argument. always the same contradiction. your attraction was tempestuous, and so, it should have surprised you neither the sudden bite or the wicked sense of amusement.

“all that any student would, naturally,”

“so, nothing,”

“i suppose,” you would not admit, for he would win, “henry,”

something in his posture betrayed him, but it was not his eyes, nor his tone, “yes?”

you were close then, much closer than you were moments ago. his lips thinned in a brittle, noncommittal line and his eyes drooped – more of a warning than anything.

“are you going to kiss me?” you asked.

he wanted to, he must’ve, for it had been the only sensible action – you always pressed for what would hurt least. to drown and swallow poison. it was a favorite, and, for some reason, one he allowed, like an agreement reached. to your knowledge, he only ever let himself indulge in you.

henry only leaned in, which was enough for you. his mouth, a second, not any less tantalizing than the first. and you had kissed him with a brazen softness, enough that his hands snaked to grasp the back of your neck. another hit. the smoke and ash settled deep in your lungs. you had pushed it out in a groan when he dropped his hands to your thighs, pressing hard and confident as he had on those nights when you found each other too lonely. the ache he created was wonderful.

you grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled it until it untucked. he swallowed and whispered in a language you were familiar with but couldn’t speak, and lifted your skirt.

you kept the cigarette between your teeth as he mouthed down your jaw and neck. his finger traced the skin at the back of your knee and that tickling spot right below your ribs. goosebumps rose and followed his touch. he nipped at the crook of your neck and dragged you onto his lap.

“you are dressed far too heavily, and terribly,” you heard him say, and when his lips found the shell of your ear, you could not stifle the shiver. the whole room felt claustrophobic, hot and steamy, like the aftermath of a scalding bath. your breaths grew labored. you closed your eyes against it and clawed into his arm.

henry said, again, this time more slowly and with a dull emphasis, “terribly.”

“how dare you insult my taste,”

“would you allow for a remediation of my sins?”

“luckily, i’m in an agreeable mood.”

henry’s own sigh was long and somewhat labored, as though a great pressure had been taken off him. and his hands flexed, moving up and down your back. a rare instance, to find him restless. you could admire this in private.

the press of lips to your neck. the collarbone, jutting sharp in the firelight.

there was the urge, sudden and quite novel, to caress his face, cup his cheek, graze the edge of the scar of the eye that’s colder than its twin, that shrouds you in a mist. such an act was outlawed, naturally, thus, the opportunity came and went, carried away on a drafting wind of smoke. an irredeemable misfortune, and you flicked the cigarette into your abandoned coupe.

“are you comfortable?” the gentle cadence of his voice sent a wave through the warmest depths of your abdomen.

“yes.”

henry, having brushed away your stockings, stroked at the insides of your thighs. there was a light feeling in your head, an almost dizzying sway. a subtle rocking, like boats at port, from where the two of you were perched. his digits dug into the firm meat. beneath his hands, a stretch of burning skin and sinew. muscle clenched and quivered, “terribly inconvenient, by the way.”

“how do you mean?”

“all the layers,” he muttered.

“good,”

“never good,”

and then, suddenly: “are you wet?”

“if you touched me properly, you could tell,”

henry ignored your response. his hand climbed upward, and found a place between the gusset and the middle seam, rubbing, testing.

“recently,” you said, “i’ve become fascinated with joseph cornell.”

“you’re stalling,” henry informed you without inflection, slipping a finger through the damp center. a harsh noise of pleasure left you when his tongue slid between your lips. one, then two, circling and sinking with the utmost delicacy.

“why? are you not curious to hear what i think of his boxes?” you managed, halfway.

another stroke. his thumb rubbing, slow and considerate, in the spot that makes your toes curl, tight and demanding. when his eyes opened and found yours, it was almost comical – his fingers in you, mouth and mind on a completely different path, yet the connection was there all the same. even more so, while trying to be detached, fumbling over buttons and laces.

“no,”

“you might learn something,”

he quirked a brow, “you truly wish to waste time talking?”

“aren’t you?”

“i am taking an assessment of your willingness to submit,”

“are you certain it’s not the other way around?”

henry rarely responded with malice; each action was carefully devised and, in conjunction, quite merciless. in this case, he dropped his hand from the vee of your legs and tugged at his shirt collar. the emptiness was startling, as was the feeling of tension that coiled tightly in your gut. then, he grabbed his drink and sipped from the sparkling glass. petty revenge, something he always assured was beneath him.

sensing defeat, you decided to placate him. after a dramatic roll of your eyes, you slipped onto the ground and knelt.

“henry,” you began, and reached for the fly of his pants. the outline of his cock was obvious beneath the smooth fabric, thick and promising, “home ruler,” in one instance of drunken curiosity, the lot of you agonized the meaning of your names, that perhaps they, somehow, unknowingly dictated your fate, “unwilling to shed his crown. is the head not heavy? most kings lost theirs, you know.”

“flattery doesn’t suit you.”

“folly, then,” you replied, dragging the flat of your palm across his groin and taking pleasure in the strained hiss, “are you going to let me do as i please?”

“i think that is,” at the peak of his inhale, you reached into his trousers and curled your fingers around his stiff cock, “quite apparent.”

you grinned, lazy but triumphant, thumbing the blunt ridge. smudging the dribble of white at the leaking head and reveling in his restrained reactions: the minute tremors, the twitch of his jaw, a gasp caught in his throat. you would have kissed him, again. his face might’ve twitched, something uncontrollable that would’ve given away his longing, if only he hadn’t pushed it down.

with a slow pump, your hand traveled. the size was admirable, familiar, nearly to the point of nostalgia. henry had touched more parts of your body than some of the lovers you took as an earnest attempt for passion. you had begged him once, half-gone, half-wild with what you thought was need and impatience, to only fuck you – without his clever mouth and his careful hands, but he hadn’t said yes, no, had only grabbed your jaw and pressed a sucking kiss to the soft and sensitive skin beneath your ear. a promise, almost. and in a way, it had been.

“you remember?”

henry’s voice snapped you to attention, and when you looked up, his expression matched his darkened eyes, intense. something flared hot and needy in you, and with it, the desire to be open and dripping for him. he curled a hand in the small hairs on the back of your neck, stroking the skin there and, even briefly, allowed himself an indulgence in the pleasure he could get from a single touch, and rocked his hips.

“vividly,” you told him.

the flames, behind you, cast him entirely in silhouette, and his shadow projected forward and rose tall, stretched. a ruler, indeed.

his chest moved slow and purposefully, and when he released your hair, the lack of contact felt like a shock to the system. his hand closed around your forearm, “come here.”

the tone, hoarse and hushed and so quietly demanding, startled you, and you stood up so quickly that your head spun. henry placed his hands on your hips, steadying, ushering you back to where you belonged.

“just there.”

legs, parted, framing his waist. fabric, bunched between your thighs. breathing, slowed. a firm, calming weight, pinning you down. the firelight glinted in his eyes.

“henry,” you called. and the only thing to signal his movement was a bob of his adam’s apple. the cufflinks of his sleeves swayed and flickered. he hummed, neither affirmation nor disagreement and entered you with a grunt.

more. skin flushed. eyes crinkled and tightened. more. nails curled and scrabbled for purchase.

there, your name on his lips. it was disorienting – not so much a cry, or a whisper, but something between the two. henry always spoke carefully, as though each word should carry the most weight, so each syllable, in turn, he would construct and cut, meticulous and mathematical. but here, breathless and wanting, they rolled out in a steady litany, never faltering.

all fire and scorching, the pitch of it high and needy. to thrust and bruise, the idea fizzed bright and brilliant at the apex of your spine. with each snap of his hips, a part of him carved a piece of you out, and each ragged noise shook loose a piece of your skin. it would fit him perfectly. then he would slide right into those hollow spaces that swelled and throbbed, expanding beyond tolerance. in moments like these, you loved him – his body, his touch, his face, everything that could not be articulated.

“please,” you begged him, trying to curl around the ache, “i want-”

“i know, i know,” he murmured, with a tilt of his head. his hair, you noticed, had lost its immaculate shape, wild and frazzled by your fingers. your heart swelled and contracted: you wanted to do it again, over and over until his whole countenance resembled nothing more than that of a ravaged man. your power, the only thing you had over him. henry closed his eyes.

“spread your legs a little wider,”

a moan slipped when his tongue flicked and curled against the side of your neck, wet and sloppy. the sweet roll of his hips, his fingers pulling at the buttons of your attire and squeezing the fleshy swell of your buttocks. it was always too much.

you licked your lip, shaking when his teeth gently pinched. and, for a moment, the smell of pine permeated the room. as though it were his own sweat and the heady musk of his natural scent, and not a waning bottle of cologne.

“hold onto me,” henry whispered and allowed for nothing more, driving the movement out of your hands. the tempo spiraled upward. at the center, the tension was building. there was a moment of vertigo.

and it was easy enough, as things had always been between the two of you, to ignore the disjointed voices in the back of your mind. how when you two first kissed, it’d been without grace. how the rain fell, trickled, all around you, drowning the dryness in your throat. how the next day, he asked if you would regret what you’d done. and here, now, a different but striking feeling: the warm haze brought on by alcohol, his palms were hot, slick with sweat, his belt digging into you.

henry grunted and swore to a god neither of you had put much faith in. the flush on his cheeks was impossible not to reach out and touch, his eyebrow scarred with the same sort of smooth texture and fading red, his lashes, long and fine, flickering against the high edge of his cheekbones. i love you, you wanted to tell him, but the high struck you ruthlessly, turning you to liquid.

in the aftermath of this brief paradise, you shared a look.

“i still despise this weather,” you said.

henry’s mouth quirked. and what had been the impulsive dalliances of two desperate people became, once more, two lonely creatures with enough distance between to fill one of henry’s beloved epics. the quiet, in the wake of catharsis, was rather terrifying, and the clatter outside – the rain, the wind, and the cold – almost accusatory. he offered you a cigarette.

you took it without thank you and let him light it.

“should i drive you home?” he offered, voice raspy. his shirt had wrinkles and his collar sat funny. the skin beneath was pink, and there was the barest mark where you had sunk your teeth or dug a nail too hard. you bit the end of the filter, watching the flame waver before rising into ash.

“you’re drunk,” it felt necessary to remind him, though it never stopped him.

“do you want me to drive you home?” he asked again. a long pull and a thin veil of smoke.

“yes,” you said, “i’ll go wake bunny.”

“no,”

“no?”

“stop it.”

“stop what?”

“speaking of him,”

“has he done something?”

silence.

“henry?”

“leave it,” he said, but his tone was tight.

“alright. i’ll get my coat, then,”

“of course,” he murmured, standing slowly. you shouldn’t have seen him put his hand against the wall to steady himself, as though any drunken spell had fled, and with it, his equilibrium. the movement was both conscious and contrived, a fact of necessity, and not like the rest of him, braced by his surroundings and firm in stature. a self-constructed illusion, designed to project a set of attributes meant to create the atmosphere of authority. he embodied it well, but he was still, stripped of the mythos, simply human.

you watched him settle and raise his head with a gentle exhale. a mere lift of his shoulders, and he resembled a man in control, content, satisfied – everything henry was, and yet, within the façade, you could see the truth of his discomfort, recently, and without fault, brought upon by an uttered name.

in the upcoming months, you would understand and wonder if there was something you could have done or said to warn him of a future that was inevitable. no matter how many nights you had spent distressing over this question, the answer would always make itself obvious.

there was nothing you could have ever done.

thank you for reading !

#dark academia #the secret history #tsh #henry winter #henry winter x reader #henry x reader #henry winter smut #imagine #imagines #one shot #i always wanted to write smth for henry my beloved always and forever he did nothing wrong #💌 october #happy dark academia season everyone!#da

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ramblingoak · 1 year ago

Text

Copia on ICE! ~ part one ~

Cardinal Copia x Female Reader ~ At what would probably be your final Winter Olympics you needed to focus on realizing your dream of winning gold. You definitely didn't need to start a whirlwind romance with world famous speed skater Copia Emeritus...

~ I commissioned @enjoy-my-swearing to bring speed skater Copia to life so please take a moment to appreciate her amazing work (especially the butt sparkles) ~

Warnings: a vague understanding of how the Winter Olympics actually works also their ages are obviously gonna be a little funky so just roll with it, angst, fluff, smug copia, fingering, dirty talk, lots of kissing, nsfw, 18+ only mdni, about 15k words

“Elegant…graceful…soft.”

Your coach’s words echoed in your head as you skated across the ice. Reminders of how figure skaters should appear while they perform. The music to your short program reached its crescendo in your head and you pushed yourself into your first jump, quickly leaping into the second as you landed. You spun towards the stands with your arms extended out, smiling towards all the imaginary people looking on.

“Do you think he’s into fisting?”

“Jesus Christ Terzo!” You slid to a stop in front of where your friend and roommate was lounging against the rink wall staring at his phone. “What the hell?”

“I’m just asking!”

“But why are you asking me when you should be asking him?”

“I will but you know, one needs to prepare themselves for every possibility.” He glanced up from his phone with a smirk on his face. “Like fisting.”

“How about you keep your possibilities to yourself.” You skated to his side, placing your elbows on the low wall while you gave him a stern look. “And stop saying fisting.”

“Fine, fine.” His phone screen lit up and Terzo grinned at whatever was on there before he quickly typed out a response. When he was done he turned and gave you a quick grin. “Have I ever told you that you are my favorite person?”

“Yes, but you only tell me that when you have bad news or you want something.” Terzo’s grin wavered a bit but his phone lit up again and he giggled at whatever he saw on it. “Just spit it out Terzo.”

“Would you mind terribly if I left early?”

“How early? We still have the rink for a few hours.”

He winced, glancing at his phone again before sheepishly meeting your eyes.

“Now?”

“Now? Terzo, you need to practice!”

“SÍ, grazie coach, I know.” He pushed off the wall and skated around you to the opening. “I’ve been practicing for weeks. Months.” You watched as he grabbed his blade covers and went to sit on the bench where he’d tossed all his gear. “Years!”

“That’s the point Terzo! We do all this practicing for a reason, to get to where we are today.” You grabbed your own covers and followed him out of the rink. “You do remember we’re at the Winter Olympics, right?”

“We’re at the Olympics?!” Terzo gave an exaggerated gasp and you rolled your eyes. “Amica mia, I know this. How can I forget when you’re covered in feathers.”

Glancing down at your costume you let out a sigh. Swan Lake hadn’t been your first choice of song for your short program, mostly because you knew your coach would lean into the swan aspect way too much. White feathers decorated the fabric from your chest down to the short skirt. When you looked at the ground you could see a few feathers had fallen off and were scattered over the floor. With a huff you crossed your arms and looked back to glare at Terzo.

“At least I’m covered in something. Your costume is 80% lace. Does that even meet the regulations?”

“Omega liked it.”

“Oh well if Omega likes it then that’s all that matters.” You both glared at each other for a few beats before you sighed and trudged over to sit by him on the bench. “Is he a snowboarder?”

“Hockey.”

“Well Secondo will be pleased at least.”

“Eh, he plays for Sweden.” At that you winced, Terzo’s older brother was the head coach for team Italy and probably wouldn’t be thrilled Terzo was sleeping with someone from a rival team. “You should see him, cara mia. Wide shoulders, thick arms and an ass to die for.”

“That sounds like most hockey players.”

“No no, he’s not just a hockey player. He’s the captain.”

“The captain? Then why the fuck are you still here? Go get him!”

Terzo laughed, leaning in to give you a quick kiss on your forehead.

“I knew you’d understand.”

He bent down to start untying his skates and shoved them along with the rest of his things into his gym bag. You tried not to feel a pang of jealousy as you watched him work. Terzo was so much more carefree than you were, something you really appreciated in the last few years. You were still recovering from a knee injury when you first met him and his humor and kindness had done wonders for you. It also helped that as soon as you had met his older brother you basically had been adopted into the family.

Primo was a member of the curling team and while it wasn’t the most popular sport his success made him fairly well known. He had spent most of his life acting like a father to his three younger brothers. Their actual father, Nihil, had been absent for much of their life. If you asked any of them they would state that Primo was the head of the family and wouldn’t bring up Nihil’s name at all.

Secondo was the second oldest, an imposing and stern man to anyone outside his close circle of family and friends. He had spent most of his life playing hockey, one of the best goaltenders that the sport had ever seen. His nickname was Bone Daddy although few dared call him that to his face. The design of his mask was that of a terrifying skull, a design he had claimed had been used by Emeritus family members from long ago.

Although you were pretty sure the story he told you about the family running a Satanic Church was completely made up.

His terrifying reputation on the ice was enhanced by the fact that under his mask and helmet he painted his face with the same skull design. Secondo reveled in pulling his mask off to startle members of the opposing team and referees alike. He probably would still be tending goal if he hadn't injured his shoulder years prior. Now he was the head coach of the Italy team, skull makeup still proudly worn every game and oftentimes in between.

The one brother you hadn’t met yet was Copia. Although with as much as the media loved to talk about him each Winter Olympics you were surprised you hadn’t. Copia was one of the most decorated athletes in any Olympic sport. You had been hoping to run into him at some point, mostly just so you could meet the entire family, but deep down you could admit there was another reason: Copia Emeritus was gorgeous.

The entire family was to be more accurate, but Copia was the face that had the habit of popping into your head when you were daydreaming. It didn’t help that he seemed to be everywhere right now. With what was being touted as his last Olympic Games it seemed like every reporter was clamoring to interview him. You’d seen his face across a majority of the magazines littered around the Olympic village lounge area and you really hoped Terzo never found the one you had already swiped to look at later.

Your musings were interrupted when Terzo zipped his bag closed and stood up, seemingly looking around for something. You snorted when you realized what he was missing.

“You left your coat in our room, remember?” Terzo’s shoulders slumped and he groaned. “Something about ‘giving everyone a show’ while we walked here?” When he grabbed yours that you’d thrown over the rink wall you got up as well. “Hey, no that’s mine!”

“Per favore, amica mia?” He got distracted by his phone beeping again and after a quick look he turned to you even more desperate. “Omega wants to go sightseeing and then go back to his room after…”

“And you’re dressed like that.” He nodded at you while he pouted and really, that shouldn’t work as well as it did. “Ok, fine! You might as well take my sweatpants too, don’t need the entire town seeing your ass hanging out.”

In short order you had your friend bundled up and ready for his date. It was cute to see him continually checking his phone, you’d never seen Terzo so excited about a date before. You were about to go back out on the ice and start practicing again when the doors at the back of the stands opened and a figure blocked out the light.

“Terzo that guy looks like he could break you in half.”

“Fuck I hope so.” He pulled you into a fierce hug before starting up the stairs. “Don’t wait up!”

“I suppose I’ll need to take your bag back to our room?”

Terzo turned and flashed you a grin before making it up to Omega and practically launching into the guy’s arms. Omega held up a hand and you waved back, lowering it with a sigh when the two men went out the door and left you alone. You turned back towards the rink, shooting a glare at the two huge bags you’d now have to lug back to the village. Well, no use worrying about that now, you had two hours left to practice and you were determined to get your routine perfect.

Anything less than that wouldn’t get a medal around your neck.

Hours later you were exhausted and desperately wanting to be out of your costume and back in your room. Easier said than done considering you had to lug both yours and Terzo’s things back with you.

“Goddammit. Ugh!” You straightened up, lifting Terzo’s bag and slinging it over your head as you turned. “He better be the lay of the centur—shit!”

As you turned to head towards the exit you ran right into a solid something. You immediately took a step away but with the extra weight hanging off your back you kept going, falling backwards and landing on your ass. With a groan you let your head fall back onto the ground. The man you had slammed into was laughing, a deep chuckle that reminded you too much of Terzo. You heard fabric rustle and then felt a hand touch your knee.

“Is uh, everything okie dokie?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” With a groan you started to sit up, flailing a bit until the man grabbed one of your hands to help. “You know you shouldn’t sneak up…oh.”

Copia Emeritus was mere inches away from you.

His brown hair was combed back, flecks of gray catching on the fluorescent lights. There was some dark makeup around a familiar set of eyes, one green and one white. A carefully groomed mustache sat above a full set of lips. Your eyes couldn’t help but trail down his body, the jacket was emblazoned with the colors of the Italian flag. Below that he seemed to be wearing a uniform, tight fabric hugging his hips and—

“Sneak up on?”

“Thighs!”

Damn it. You dropped your head into your hand with a groan.

“Did you hit your head?”

“Uh, yes?” The man crouched down again, a gloved hand pulling your own away from your face. When you dared to look at him he was smirking, another familiar feature shared with your friend. You decided to try for indifference and hoped he bought it. “Copia?”

“Copia.” He placed a hand on the back of your head, his fingers probing through your hair. You tried to swat at his hand but he easily grabbed it with his free one. “Quit that, I’m trying to make sure you aren’t hurt.”

“I’m fine! It’s fine.” Copia pulled away, holding his hands up in surrender. You ignored the little pang of…whatever after he did so. Instead you focused on pulling the bag straps off your shoulders and trying to get up. Sheepishly you met Copia’s eyes, scrunching your nose up at the amused look on his face. “Could you lend me a hand?”

“Oh now you want a hand, eh?” He chuckled at your grumbling, taking your hands and easily pulling you to your feet. “Upsy daisies.”

“Daisy.”

“Is that your name?”

“No, it’s—upsy daisy. Not daisies.” When Copia gave you a confused look you groaned and turned around, glaring down at the bags. There were more feathers from your costume resting on the ground and you quickly knelt down to grab them. “Damn it.”

“What is this anyway?” You looked up at him as you picked up the feathers, narrowing your eyes at the fingers wiggling your way. “Your clothes.”

“It’s my costume.”

“Costume for what?”

“I’m a figure skater.”

“Ah, so you probably know mio fratello, Terzo.”

“Unfortunately.” You chose to ignore how handsome his smile made him look, standing up again with a handful of white feathers. He kept eyeing your costume, looking up and down your body with what you hoped was appreciation. “What?”

“You are uh, una paperina?”

“Huh? Yeah. You know, Swan Lake.” Copia was biting his lip, looking to be about two seconds from laughing. Ok so, not appreciation. “What now?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing. Just remembering Terzo covered in feathers when he skated to that too.”

“It’s a popular song.”

“Sí, I think everyone skates to it at least once.”

What the fuck?

“And? It’s a good song!”

“Paperina, I didn’t say it wasn’t.”

“Skating to Swan Lake is a lot more difficult than skating in a circle.”

Ha! That got him. Copia’s eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Is it now? Have you ever watched speed skating?” He huffed when you shook your head. “I think if you watched you would change your mind.”

“Yes, well I’m busy right now so I’ll take a rain check.” You turned and knelt down again, shoving the feathers in a pocket of your bag and then slinging the strap over your head. “It’s late, I’ve gotta get back to my room.”

“Do you turn into a pumpkin at midnight?”

“What?” As you stood up you couldn’t stop yourself from wavering on your feet again, but this time Copia kept his hands to himself. “What are you talking about?”

“Ah, doesn’t the swan turn into a pumpkin if they aren’t back home at midnight?”

“You are mixing two very, very different fairy tales.” Copia shrugged, seemingly unbothered with fairy tale lore. As you reached down and picked up Terzo’s bag your balance shifted again but you moved away when Copia reached out to steady you. “I got it!”

“Has anyone ever told you how stubborn you are Paperina?”

“Once or twice.” You took a few steps to the side to go around Copia but he moved to block you. “Has anyone ever told you how annoying you are?”

“Once or twice.” God, even his smile was annoying. And handsome. Damn it. “I’m actually looking for my brother.”

“He left a while ago with some guy.”

“Of course. Hockey player?”

You couldn’t help but grin, it was clear Copia knew his brother well.

“The captain of the Swedish team in fact.”

“Ha! Secondo is gonna love that.” He looked down and motioned towards Terzo’s bag. “Isn’t that his?”

“I’m taking it back to our room for him. Apparently. Hey!”

“Allow me.” He easily tugged the bag out of your hands, grinning in response to your narrowed eyes. “Where’s your coat? It’s too cold out there for Swan Lake.”

“Terzo needed it more.” At Copia’s raised eyebrow you just shrugged. “His costume has a lot of lace.”

“Ah, should have known.” He sighed and set his brother’s bag down, bringing his hands up to the zipper on his hoodie and quickly pulling it off. “Wear this while I walk you back.”

“I don’t need your escort or your hoodie.”

“You are unfortunately getting both Paperina so chop, chop. Let’s go.”

You both stared each other down, although his look was much more amused than yours was.

“Fine, whatever. Gimme.” His little smug grin had you gritting your teeth. It was unfair that he looked this good. Once you had his hoodie on and zipped up you held your arms out. “Happy?”

The look he gave you then was definitely appreciative. Lingering long enough on your face that you hoped he thought your red cheeks were from the cold and not your blush.

“Molto felice.” Copia easily swung Terzo’s bag over his shoulder and gestured for you to go ahead of him. “You first Paperina.”

The walk back to the Olympic Village was mostly quiet. Once or twice you thought you heard him singing softly under his breath but he stopped whenever you glanced his way. You were trying very hard not to stare at him. Copia carried himself in that confident way athletes at the top of their game had. It made you self conscious and you immediately straightened up, pulling your shoulders back and correcting your posture.

It had been a while since you’d been at the top of yours.

The large lounge area on the main floor was still mostly full. Athletes from all sports and countries getting to know each other or sitting quietly on their own. Four years ago you’d be down here with them, finding new friends and connections. You couldn’t afford that this year though, not with so much on the line.

“Paperina?” Copia’s voice dragged you from your melancholy thoughts. You expected to see an amused look on his face but instead he looked almost concerned. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yes. I’m good. Actually this is good.” He raised an eyebrow when you held your hands out for Terzo’s bag. “I got it from here.”

“Terzo already bitched at me about how far away his room was, let me help.”

“No it’s fine, really.” Copia sighed, seemingly understanding he wasn’t going to win. “Thank you for your help though.”

“It’s nothing. The least I could do, uh, since my brother left you.”

“I’m not mad, it was for a good cause.”

“Sí, a hockey captain.” You stared at each other for a moment, long enough that you started fidgeting under his stare. “Have a good night Paperina.”

“You too Copia.”

He gave you one last smile before turning and heading off, disappearing into a crowd of Canadians. With a sigh you began to make your way towards the elevators for your section of the dorms. Terzo was right, your room was far away. But it was nice to be able to room with your friend. You knew Terzo had thrown his family name around, and probably a little money, to make it happen. It made times he did stupid things like tonight more bearable.

Still, it didn’t stop you from dropping both your bags down in front of your door with a curse aimed his way. Another curse left you when you noticed the sock on the doorknob. You started knocking on the door sharply, turning your hand to hit it with the side of your fist when nothing happened.

“Terzo!”

There was muffled cursing behind the door and the sound of something being knocked over before it opened and your friend shoved his head through the opening.

“Sí?”

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing? Didn’t you see the sock?” You flinched back when Terzo yanked it off the doorknob and swung it in front of your face. “I’m having sex!”

“Good for you, why are you having sex in our room? I thought you were going back to Omega’s!”

“Ah well, you see his roommate had already claimed the room. So. Here we are.” Terzo’s grin turned into a grimace when you twisted his nipple. “Ai! I just got that pierced!”

“I don’t care! I am tired, I am cold and I’m dressed like a fucking swan. Let me in.”

“I am begging you to go away.”

“Where am I supposed to go?!”

“I don’t know! Go mingle downstairs! Show off your feathers.” He jerked back, slamming into the door to get away from your fingers. “Stop pinching!”

“Stop being an asshole!”

“Amica mia, please. Omega.” Terzo gestures towards the door in that hopeless way he did when he was struggling to find the right words. “I like him.”

“Like like?” He rolled his eyes but gave you a quick nod. Goddammit. “Alright! But just tonight though!”

“Sí, sí. Just tonight.” Terzo tugged you in for a quick hug, pressing a noisy kiss into your temple before pulling away. His hands lingering on your shoulders as he looked down at your chest. You were about to tell him off for staring before you realized he was looking at the hoodie. Copia’s hoodie. “Where did you get this?”

“Your brother came looking for you and took pity on me.”

“Maybe he just didn’t want to be seen next to that costu—ow, ow! What did I say! They are healing!” He hissed at you as he pressed himself back into the door, his arms crossed comically high on his chest. “Are you two friends now?”

“Sure, we’re best friends. I think we’ll room together at the next Olympics.” When Terzo started waggling his eyebrows you groaned. “Shut up.”

“This is his last one, amica.” You gave him a questioning look but Terzo just shrugged. “That’s what he’s been saying at least.”

“Anyway, how long do you need? Five minutes? Ten?”

“You did see Omega, right? Try five hours.” You wrinkled your nose at the thought and Terzo gleefully continued, “He likes to switch too. Is this…is this what love feels like?”

“Two hours. No, stop pouting. You have two hours Terzo before I break the door down.”

“Fine. Deal.” He opened the door again and grabbed the bags, quickly tossing them inside before spinning around with a grin on his face. “Go make some new friends while I make some babies.”

He laughed at the horrified look on your face, taking advantage of it to slip back into the room and shut the door. The sound of the lock clicking was loud in the empty hallway. You sighed and shoved your hands into your borrowed hoodie, looking down at it for a moment and then freezing when you saw the feathers peeking out from below.

“Fuck.”

The lounge was thankfully a little quieter when you got back down there. No one gave you any weird looks at least. You found a seat close to one of the big fireplaces and settled down, letting the heat wash over you. Hopefully no one would bat an eye if you fell asleep, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time an athlete had been locked out of their room for one reason or another.

“Paperina?” You groaned and looked up into the face of Terzo’s brother. “What are you doing down here?”

His clothes were different, you could see the blue of his skating suit peeking out at his neck and at his wrists. He had reapplied the makeup around his eyes too, as well as covering just his upper lip. It probably would bother you more if Terzo didn’t regularly wear skull makeup during his routines. The Emeritus family was interesting, you had to give them that.

“Your brother and the hockey captain were there.” A flash of irritation washed over Copia’s face so you quickly reached out and grasped his hand. When he glanced down at it you immediately let go, watching as he flexed it afterwards. “It’s fine, I gave him two hours.”

“You’re going to sit here for two hours?”

“Yes, it’s ok. I’ve got the fire and I can take a little nap.” You flinched when a few guys started shouting at something playing on a tv nearby. “I’m good.”

“You’re too nice Paperina, that stronzino doesn’t deserve you.” Copia held both of his hands out to you smiling when you just stared at them. “Let’s go, you can come with me.”

“Come with you where? Hey!”

He had reached down and grabbed your hands, easily pulling you out of the chair and ushering you ahead of him towards the door.

“If you’re gonna just sit somewhere you can sit and watch me skate in circles. How about that?”

He looked cocky and sure of himself, exactly how you’d expect an eight time gold medalist to look. You bit your lip as you thought it over. Speed skating had never been a sport you sought out to watch. Skating in circles was boring, no one could convince you otherwise. But you couldn’t help but glance down at his legs, at the sweatpants you knew were covering that tight uniform. The tight uniform over those huge thighs.

At least the scenery would be nice.

“How long will this take?”

“Eh, usually I practice for three hours.”

“I gave Terzo two.”

“We both know he’ll beg you for one more so just sit here like a good little Swan Lake and watch, okie dokie?”

“Ugh, fine.” Copia raised an eyebrow when you shivered, the hoodie of his not doing much against the cold of the rink. Your thin costume underneath didn’t help either. “I’m fine.”

“Do you ever get tired of pretending to be fine?”

His question stunned you long enough you didn’t even protest when he pulled his coat off and threw it over you. Copia was grinning when you yanked it off your head, watching as you situated it over yourself for a moment before he headed towards the locker rooms. You tried very hard not to watch him go but it was near impossible and you were too tired to care. After a few minutes of looking around you couldn’t help but burrow deeper into his coat, his cologne clinging to the fabric. You allowed yourself one deep inhale, your eyes closing briefly while you tried to pinpoint the brand.

“Acqua di Gio.” You flinched, nearly slipping off the bench at Copia’s voice. “Armani.”

“I know it’s Armani.”

Your voice came out a little harsher than you wanted but luckily he just seemed amused. After you had settled back into your seat you managed to look him over. Gone were the sweatpants, he was now just in his sleek skating suit and it was clinging to every dip and curl of muscle on his body. You didn’t even bother looking back up at his face, you knew by now he’d be smug as all hell. Instead you noticed a styrofoam cup in his hand, finally meeting his eyes when he held it out towards you.

“Hot cocoa. To warm you up.” You timidly reached out and took it, not even minding when his gloved fingers lingered against yours. “Unless you want more of my clothes.”

“Fuck off.” His chuckle was starting to become one of your favorite sounds and this was ridiculous, you barely knew him! You needed to get some distance and clear your head. “Go on, show me how well you can skate in a circle.”

His only answer was a smirk as he backed away a few steps before heading towards the opening to the rink. He pulled the covers off his blades, tossing them to the side before shooting out onto the ice. There were a few others already out there and it was fascinating to see them give Copia space, a sign of deference you supposed. He nodded their way but didn’t say anything, just started to go through a series of stretches while you all looked on.

Despite the public setting it felt very private. Terzo had been sharing a lot of little anecdotes about his brother since you’d both arrived at the Games. Information you wouldn’t hear about in anything official. You knew that Copia had been having problems with his knee, that it had been obviously bothering him more and more. He’d only received one gold in the last games when he normally would get it in all of his events. Since then he hadn’t competed much, a few European tournaments here and there.

According to Terzo he was saving himself for one last Olympic Games, this Olympic Games. Copia was determined to go out at the top of his game. With the way the media and even his brother had depicted him, an extremely serious athlete that seemed to live on the ice it was strange to look back on the last few hours and how he acted. He was far more carefree than you expected. Quick to joke around even if it was at your expense.

You had a feeling Paperina didn’t mean what you thought it did.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the distinct sound of skates gliding across the ice. It was louder than what you were used to but as you looked out towards the rink you easily figured out why. Copia was a blur as he moved across the ice, his powerful legs pumping him towards each corner. It was then he’d lower one side of his body down, his fingertips grazing the ice and keeping him balanced until he was through.

“He’s something else, isn’t he?”

You smiled at the man that sat down next to you, someone you had looked forward to seeing as soon as you had arrived at the Olympic Village.

“Hi Primo.” He gave you a warm smile, knocking his shoulder against yours. “Did you come to cheer him on?”

“It seems that’s what he brought you for, hmm?” You rolled your eyes, hunkering further down into Copia’s coat. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

“We just met actually, a few hours ago.”

“Thick as thieves already then, I’m not surprised.” He ignored the questioning look you gave him so you shoved your elbow into his side. “Careful now, I’m an old man.”

“He just feels bad. Terzo kicked me out.”

“I warned you not to room with him.” He shook his head but he was clearly not surprised at Terzo’s antics. “A snowboarder?”

“Nope, hockey. The captain of the Sweden team.”

“Secondo is going to kill him.”

“Good, then I’ll have the room to myself.”

It was Primo’s turn to elbow you and when you looked his way he nodded towards the rink. Your eyes immediately found Copia’s as he leaned against the wall. He had taken his helmet off and his hair was all over the place. You could see how flushed his cheeks were already, his breathing heavy from the laps he’d put in.

“I don’t know, looks like you might have some company.”

He didn’t give you a chance to say anything back, but you were too dumbfounded to say anything anyway. Primo waved at his brother before giving your leg a squeeze and getting up. His movements were a little slower than you remembered but you knew when it was time for his event he’d be gliding across the ice just like he’d been doing for years. There was a reason he’d led the Italian curling team to so many podiums.

You took a long drink of your cocoa, a little disappointed it had lost most of its warmth. Copia was still looking your way when you glanced at him although you couldn’t read the expression on his face. The eye contact was lost when one of the other skaters stopped by him and you let out the breath you’d been holding when he looked away.

This was ridiculous, you were acting like some love struck teenager. You needed to get a grip. Neither one of you could afford distractions right now. Both of you skating with the same goal in mind but for very different reasons. As if on cue your knee twinged slightly and you slowly stretched it out in front of you. It was fine, it was going to be fine. You’d gotten silver in the last two tournaments you’d done leading up to this year's Olympics. It was fine.

You were fine.

“Hey.”

“Goddammit.” The man next to you was the same one that had been talking to Copia on the ice. You took a quick breath and glanced up at him. “Uh, what’s up?”

“I’m supposed to give you this.” He thrust another styrofoam cup towards you so you quickly set down the empty one you had been holding. “And this.”

In his other hand was one of those large soft pretzels that every concession stand on the planet sold. The kind covered in salt and butter. They were your favorite thing to get whenever you needed something quick to eat. You eagerly took it from the man’s hand, muttering a thanks when he nodded and then started walking towards the locker room.

Back on the ice Copia was doing laps again. Everyone else had left so it was just him out there, although he was acting like he was fighting off a handful of other skaters. His movements were truly mesmerizing. Even from your seat you could see his muscles move, see the concentration on his face as he made lap after lap.

He slid to a stop right in front of where you were sitting, catching your eyes as you took a huge bite of the pretzel. Part of it was sticking out of your mouth as you watched him. It was too late to try to be ladylike about it so you just ate it how you normally would. Copia held up a finger, gesturing at his wrist briefly. One more hour then. You nodded at him, saluting him with the rest of your pretzel and finding way too much joy in the sound of his laughter echoing from the rink.

“Is your knee ok?”

You were on your way back to the dorms, snow starting to softly fall around you. Copia had taken his hoodie back but you were still wearing his jacket. His cologne had probably permeated your costume at this point and you were stuck between liking the idea but also dreading the distraction it might bring.

“It’s good, feels good to walk.” You let your face fall into the neck of his coat, trying to hide your smile. “How about yours?”

“Eh it will be fine. A nice massage, some ice and it will be good as new.”

“I didn’t realize the clinics were open this late.”

“I’ll be massaging it myself, Paperina. That is unless you’re offering?”

“No! No I’m not.” He snorted and was shaking his head when you looked at him again. “What?”

“You don’t have to be so scandalized. What’s a little knee massage between friends huh?”

“So we’re friends?”

The automatic doors of the building slid open and you couldn’t help but start to walk faster. Copia easily picked up his pace to match yours, following you all the way to the elevators towards your section of the dorms.

“Is that what you want? To be friends?”

There was no denying the charged air between you two. The attraction between you both had been building ever since he had taken Terzo’s bag from you. You couldn’t help but take a step back though, wincing when a brief look of disappointment appeared on his face.

“I don’t think we can afford to be anything else.” You knew your face showed your own disappointment and you didn’t bother trying to hide it. Your fingers twisted nervously where they were hidden in the sleeves of his coat while you debated on saying what you wanted to. Fuck it. “At least for right now.”

“Right now?” His smile was back as he walked towards you. It grew slightly predatory when you started to back away, only stopping when your back hit the wall by the elevator doors. “Then when can that change?”

“After our events. We can’t get distrac—oh.” Copia had pressed forward, resting his forearms against the wall by your head. He had showered in the locker room but there was still the slight smell of sweat on him. His head dropped close enough you felt his lips brush ever so slightly against your cheek. “Copia…”

“Our events then. After we get gold, yeah?”

“Yes. At least I hope so.”

“Don’t worry Paperina,” Copia stepped back, smiling smugly as he held your gaze. “I’ll give you one of mine if you don’t.”

Thankfully the sock was gone when you got back to the room.

You quietly opened the door, peeking in but not seeing anyone inside. They must have been able to go back to Omega’s room. You took advantage of the emptiness, quickly shucking Copia’s coat and tossing it over a chair. The next part was your costume, you had to be extra careful removing it. The last thing you wanted to worry about doing was losing more damn feathers.

The shower felt heavenly and you got it as hot as you dared. The scent of Copia’s cologne that was lingering on your skin washed off quickly but you tried not to dwell on it. It was obvious you’d be seeing him again. He certainly didn’t seem like the type to give up easily, much like his brothers. You snorted thinking of his last comment. The Emeritus’s were a cocky bunch, but it was with good reason.

You took a deep breath and tried to clear all of the Emeritus brothers out of your mind. It was tough like usual to get all the hairspray washed out of your hair but once you were done you allowed yourself to just relax and lean against the wall. Looking down your body you watched the soap slowly fall over your skin and down onto the tile. Your eyes fell onto your knee like they usually did when there was nothing covering it and it made you wince like always.

It wasn’t so much that you thought it was ugly, to you it was a mark of survival. Not that it was necessarily a life threatening thing. In reality a fall while doing a jump could have gone far, far worse than it did. But landing on your knee had been excruciating. Laying out there on the ice in front of thousands of people had been excruciating. However the two years you had spent rehabbing it had been worse.

The multiple surgeries, the constant appointments for physical therapy… It felt like you had practically lived at the hospital for those two years. But you had been determined to come back from it. You were too young to let your dream go. Your eyes were drawn to your knee like always, to the scars that ran along the sides. The doctor had jokingly said that shorts and short skirts might not be in your future and it had taken so much willpower not to punch him.

Your scars were proof that you had survived the injury. That you hadn’t let it stop you from pursuing what you had been doing since you were a kid. Since you could even stand up on skates. This is what you had always wanted to do, what you had dreamed of. The Winter Olympics were the pinnacle of that dream. You were determined to get on that podium this year. You wanted to show everyone that nothing would stop you from getting there.

Copia’s face appeared in your mind then. You could imagine his smug grin as he teased you. You thought of the way he smelled, the way he covered you in his scent by loaning you his coat. You thought of his body in his uniform, how powerful his legs were. He could probably hold you up easily, maybe push one of his knees between your legs and let you straddle his thick thigh.

Your head fell back against the shower wall, a little zing of pleasure running through you at the thought. Almost absentmindedly you placed your hand on your stomach, rubbing it over your skin in a few circles before letting it slip down further and into the thatch of hair between your legs. You thought of grinding against Copia’s thigh, your feet probably not even touching the ground because he was holding you up so high.

Two of your fingers rubbed tight circles over your clit as you fell deeper into your fantasy. Copia’s fingers were thick, it was obvious even with them hidden under those gloves. They were thick and they’d feel amazing stroking inside of you. You brought your other hand to your cunt and rubbed across your entrance. A moan punched out of you when you pressed two of them inside. There was barely any resistance you were already so turned on just by thinking about Copia doing this to you.

He probably loved to dirty talk, he probably loved describing all the things he planned on doing to you. Your fingers pumped faster imagining the filthy things he would whisper in your year. Things he would do to you if you only asked. You’d more than ask, you’d beg for it if you had to. You couldn’t help but admit to yourself that you wanted everything. His mouth, his fingers, his cock...

You wanted it all.

The next few days went by in a blur.

Both you and Terzo were focused on practicing for your upcoming events. You each had a short and long program to skate, the combined scores of both decided your final place in the standings. Despite the importance of it all Terzo did manage to skip out a lot to meet up with Omega. You had met him a few times by now as well and you had immediately liked him. He was just the kind of partner Terzo needed. Honestly he was the kind of partner you wanted.

Of course thinking about partners had your stupid mind drifting to Copia. You hadn’t seen him at all since that night, only catching glimpses of his face on the tv screens or the odd magazine laying around the lounge and cafeteria. It wasn’t like you expected to spend all your time with him, but it made that whole night feel surreal. Terzo hadn’t been super helpful about the whole thing. With romance on his brain he had started going on about all these elaborate scenarios featuring you and Copia. Olympic themed dates and Olympic themed gifts.

The Olympic themed wedding talk was the last straw and you had demanded he leave the room for a bit that night. You knew he had planned on doing that anyway, Omega’s team was practicing and watching him play had become Terzo’s favorite new thing. Well, that and fucking him probably. So with the room empty it was time for you to do something you always did before events, especially after your accident at the last Olympic Games. It just wasn’t something you enjoyed in any way, shape or form.

You hated reviewing training footage. It was frustrating going over your previous performances and pinpointing where you had made mistakes. Where you had turned a triple axel into a double. Where you’d missed the timing on a jump. Where you’d stumbled on a landing.

Where you had fallen and nearly destroyed your career.

In your coach’s defense he never made you watch that one again. Rewatching that was something you did on your own. Terzo always hated it and would call it self destructive. That was part of the reason you were alone in your room tonight. He had seen you break out your laptop and left to meet Omega earlier than planned.

You’d been surprised he wasn’t out with Copia celebrating his brother’s win but Terzo had said Copia wasn’t much for celebrating until the games were completely done. Of course when that thought crossed through your mind you immediately blushed. The memory of that night with him was something you had been replaying a lot, especially the ending and the deal you had made.

Before you could talk yourself out of it you searched for the race he was in today, quickly hitting play when it came up. Not surprisingly the announcers were talking about Copia most of the time. Even if it wasn’t his last Olympics he was still the most well known athlete there, the most decorated. You watched as he warmed up and briefly chatted with his fellow racers. He looked so at ease, like he wasn’t about to race his heart out for one of the final times in his career.

You really envied him. He had so much pressure on him but just looking at him smiling on the ice you would think it was just another day. Even though you knew the result you found yourself holding your breath as everyone waited for the race to begin. When they took off Copia easily got to the front, quickly putting distance between himself and the others. The camera stayed on him and you got to see the muscles of his legs flex and move up close. You could see the determination in his eyes, the lights in the arena reflected off both but especially the odd white one his family was all born with.

It was always strange to you when something so important, so pivotal to someone’s career was over in just a few moments. Copia crossed the finish line with ease, one arm pumping briefly into the air as he flashed a dazzling smile to the crowd. The camera panned briefly to where his brothers were seated. Terzo looked ridiculous in his big faux fur coat but it made you smile to see Omega swing an arm over his shoulders. There was more between your friend and the hockey captain than just an “Olympic Village fling”, that was obvious.

Primo looked proud like he always did, no matter how well his younger brothers did in their events. Next to Primo, looking stern but proud, was Secondo. He was dressed in one of his typical three piece suits, clapping and cheering with the crowd. The camera soon panned away and back onto the ice. Copia was standing patiently next to the second and third place winners but you kept noticing his eyes darting out into the stands. You knew he had seen his brothers, family was always seated around the same area, so you were curious who he seemed to be looking for. He almost looked disappointed after taking a final scan of the crowd before being ushered onto the podium.

The thought crossed your mind briefly that he might have been looking for you but that was ridiculous. While Terzo had invited you it had seemed a little too much to go watch Copia’s race. You hadn’t really sorted out exactly what you were feeling towards him. Obviously physical attraction but there was something else there, something that made your insides flutter when you thought about him.

Watching him at the top of the podium, handsome and beaming as the gold medal was slipped over his head didn’t help. He shook hands with the official that gave him the medal and then his fellow athletes before standing tall again. The camera panned up to the Italian flag hanging higher than the others, only going back to Copia when his national anthem started playing.

You watched as his lips moved, mouthing along to the lyrics being played. His makeup was slightly smeared from sweat but it did nothing to detract from his handsome features. When the music swelled he appeared to be full on singing, his throat bobbing as he did so. Your mind went back to when you were walking to the dorms in the snow after watching him practice. His shoulder knocking against yours, his coat warm over your stupid costume and the smell of his cologne embedding itself in your brain.

There was definitely something more there.

An abrupt knock on the door had you pausing the video, the screen freezing right as Copia was looking directly into the camera.

“Who is it?” After no one answered you focused back on the screen again but another set of knocks echoed through the room. You groaned, figuring it might be Terzo trying to get back in. The knocking continued as you unfolded your legs and hopped off your bed. “Terzo I told you to make sure you had your key!”

You unlocked and flung the door open, ready to bitch at your friend some more but the face on the other side was not your roommate.

“Paperina.” Copia’s eyes swept over you, making you immediately self conscious of the old, oversized sweats you were wearing. “No feathers today?”

“Not today, no.” You fiddled with the zipper on your hoodie while you let your eyes wander over him. He was wearing all black, a color that definitely suited him. Your eyes couldn’t help but linger on how his tight jeans clung to his thighs and when you finally glanced up he was pleased as hell about it. “Tomorrow is the short program.”

“Are you ready?”

While you desperately wanted to say no and that you were scared out of your mind you squared your shoulders and gave him the most convincing smile you could manage.

“Yes, yes I am.” You both stood there for a moment in silence, staring at each other. After what seemed like an eternity you finally snapped. “What is it? I’m busy.”

“Are you?” He pushed off from the door jam and looked around you into the room. “Doesn’t seem like there’s much going on.”

“I’m watching my old rout—hey!”

Copia easily walked around you, strolling into the room like he’d been there a hundred times. You glared at his back briefly before deciding to just shut the door. When you turned your eyes looked on, horrified as you watched him look down at your laptop screen, a wild grin breaking out on his face.

“You know Paperina, you could have come today.” He grunted as he dropped onto the bed, stretching out in front of your computer. “I told Terzo to bring you.”

“Like I said,” You stomped over to your bed and grabbed your laptop away from him. “I was busy. Am busy. So you should go.”

Copia sighed as he rolled into his back and tucked his hands under his head.

“I was a little disappointed you didn’t come.” His admission had you freezing next to the little desk you were setting your laptop on. “You could’ve seen the whole thing up close.”

“I told you—“

“Sí, sí. Busy. I can tell.” He was grinning when you spun around to glare at him. “You shouldn’t be cooped up in here all night.”

“I’m not cooped up, I’m getting ready for tomorrow.”

“Paperina, how many times have you done this routine?” He turned onto his side and propped his head up on one hand. “Watching old videos won’t help.”

“Yes, they do. I can see where I messed up and fix it.”

“Weren’t you there though? You know where you made the mistakes already. What does torturing yourself by watching them do?”

“It’s not torture!”

“Then what is it?” His voice was gentle as he watched you, the concern evident as he spoke. “How many times do you need to see them?”

“As many times as it takes.”

“You’re just going to be more nervous for tomorrow.”

“Look, you’re not my coach or a figure skater so don’t come in here trying to tell me how to prepare.”

“Ah yes, what do I know? I just skate in circles.” He groaned as he sat up, his eyes not leaving you. “I do know that dwelling on past mistakes won’t help you. No matter what sport you’re in.”

“Look, I need to watch them.”

“Paperina, you haven’t given me a good enough reason why.”

“Because I can’t fuck up again!” Your eyes stung with the tears building up in them but it was too late to stop now. It felt like the knot that had been building in your chest since the accident four years ago was finally unraveling. “Copia, I can’t. This is my last chance. In four years I’ll be too old to compete against anyone here.”

You weren’t sure how long you stared at each other but it was long enough for your breathing to calm and your tears to fade. As you were about to ask him to go he pushed himself off the bed and clapped his hands together.

“We need to get you out of here.”

“Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?!”

“Sí, I heard all the bullshit you told me.” He looked around the room, letting out a little noise when he saw his coat hanging off your chair. “We’re going out.”

“No, Copia I can’t.”

“What did you just say? ‘This is your last chance’? That means it’s also your last chance to enjoy yourself here.”

“I am enjoying myself.” When he raised an eyebrow you groaned and shook your head. “What would we even do anyway?”

“Celebrate.” He gave you an exaggerated pout when you just stared at him. “My gold medal isn’t a good enough reason to celebrate? Coming with me is the least you could do Paperina.”

“What do you mean?”

“I saved you a spot and everything. Kept hoping I’d see you in the stands...” Copia sighed dramatically and shook his coat out before he held it up for you. “Remember what we talked about the other night?”

Hopefully the look on your face didn’t make it obvious you had been practically only thinking about that.

“We agreed on after our events.”

“It is after an event though.”

“Yes, one event, Copia! You have three more medals to compete for and I have two skate programs.”

“Just a small celebration then.” You rolled your eyes when he pouted again. “Per favore.”

“How small?”

He grinned and tossed his coat at you before looking around the room. He let out a triumphant noise when he saw your boots, grabbing them and thrusting them at you as well.

“Very small. I know just the place.”

“We can’t be gone long.” He nodded as he rocked back on his heels. “And no funny business.”

“Paperina, I will be completely serious. I won’t even smile.”

You snorted as you dropped your boots and shoved your feet into them. His coat was next and it was as comfortable as you remembered when you pulled it on.

“So. Where are we going?”

“I can’t fucking believe you.”

Copia hadn’t stopped smiling as soon as you’d seen where he was taking you. The building hadn’t been too far from the Olympic Village, a few blocks and you found yourself staring up at an old ice rink. You looked on in disbelief as Copia walked up to the glass doors and peered inside. The place was obviously closed but after a few knocks on the door an older man had come up to let you both in.

“You’ve got two hours Emeritus, that’s it.”

“Grazie, plenty of time.” Copia turned and held his hand out for you. “Paperina?”

Copia led you through the building, seemingly unbothered by the lack of lights. His gloved hand was warm and in the dark you let yourself look down at it, trusting him to guide you where he wanted to go. When he gave it a squeeze you looked up, noticing you were in front of the skate rental booth.

“Copia, what are we doing here?”

“What does it look like?” He let go of your hand and walked around the counter, disappearing for a moment before coming back with an armful of ice skates. “Here these should fit.”

“Ice skating is our job! Why would you want to come here on your night off?”

“Because ice skating should be fun and you need to remember that.” He came around the counter and took your hand again. “When was the last time you had fun out on the ice?”

It was startling to you when your mind drew a blank. Even the times you’d been out there practicing with Terzo all you remember feeling was stress. You resisted when he tried to tug you towards the rink.

“What if we get hurt?”

“Don’t do any triple axels and I think you’ll be fine.” When you stayed put as he tried to go to the rink again he sighed. To your surprise he dropped his skates and turned around, coming right into your space and cupping your cheeks. “Paperina, I promise that you will have fun.”

You closed your eyes for a few seconds, letting the heat from his hands and gloves warm your cheeks.

“I want a pretzel.”

Copia let out a bark of laughter, leaning forward and resting his forehead against yours.

“I think the concession stand is closed.”

“That’s the price. One pretzel.”

“Okie dokie. I’ll see what I can do.”

You ended up with two pretzels and that fluttering feeling in your chest getting worse.

After banging around trying to first find the pretzels the next problem was sorting out how to heat them. Copia had been attempting to get the little heater rack going when the owner had stomped over with an exasperated look on his face.

“Really, Emeritus?”

“The lady is hungry!”

The man had grabbed the two pretzels and disappeared into the back. While he worked you and Copia had made your way to the rink, throwing your coats over the wall and sitting down to get your skates on. They definitely weren’t as nice as you normally wore and you tried not to think of how clean they might be, but it was actually helping you relax a bit. You hadn’t skated in a rink like this since you were a kid first taking lessons. There was zero pressure here, just you and the ice.

Well…Copia and his thighs too.

It was unfair how good he looked in those jeans. You tried not to stare but that only ended with your eyes wandering elsewhere. He had some random band tee over a long sleeve shirt. His gloves were still on as well as the dark gray scarf he’d been wearing since he showed up at your door. He looked good, he probably looked good in everything. He probably looked really good in noth—

“Here’s your damn pretzels.”

You grabbed them when the owner thrusted them in front of your face, setting one down next to you and biting into the other. He and Copia appeared to be having a somewhat heated conversation but you chose to ignore it and focus on your food. Copia was right, you needed to enjoy your time here. And not just here at the rink but during the entire two weeks the Olympics were going on. You were so lucky to have this chance and while you didn’t want to mess it up, you also wanted to look back on it fondly no matter what happened.

“Okie dokie, two hours!”

Copia plopped down next to you, grabbing the second pretzel and taking a bite.

“Hey that’s mine!”

“These actually aren’t bad, Paperina.” You took a big bite of your own and glared at him. “Not going to help me get into my suit tomorrow but eh, oh well.”

“You’ll still look good, don’t worry.” As soon as you realized what you said you froze, sneaking a glance at him and sighing when you saw his grin. “Don’t.”

“You’ll look good too. Bellissima.” He shoved the rest of the pretzel in his mouth and then pulled the skates on. “I can’t wait to see you in those feathers again.”

“Wait, you’re coming?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You hid your pleased smile by leaning down and getting the skates on although when you sat up he was still watching you. “It’s the next event anyway, I’ll want to collect on our deal.”

“Technically the short program is part of one event, one medal. I still have the long program.”

Copia walked in front of you and held his hands out, a gesture you were getting used to. When he had pulled you up and helped steady you on the unfamiliar skates he leaned in closer, his handsome face taking up your vision.

“I think we can bend the rules a bit again, don’t you?”

Being on the ice with Copia was a blast.

While you both agreed on no racing or jumping it wasn’t long before you were squealing and shoving your way past him to get to the end of the rink first. Luckily you were both still getting used to the new skates, in Copia’s case they were a lot different than his usual ones so it gave you a good advantage. Your triumphant whoop at hitting the end of the rink before him was drowned out by you screeching when he grabbed you and dug his fingers into your sides.

“No! Copi—ahh! Stop, stop!” You were laughing despite your frantic protests. Finally pushing him away and out of reach. “You’re just jealous I’m better on the ice than you.”

“Paperina, if I had my regular skates on I’d be able to lap you twice before you hit the end.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, handsome.”

You skated away so you wouldn’t have to see his smug grin but also to hide your blush. There really wasn’t a point in hiding your attraction to him anymore, but that didn’t mean you needed to make it easy on him. You were nearly half the rink away from him when you heard him coming up behind you. The sounds of his blades sliding across the ice was loud and you weren’t surprised to see him blow by you. But instead of turning the corner to show off his speed he suddenly threw his arms out and then leapt into the air, executing a near perfect jump, spinning and landing with a flourish.

Copia stayed where he was as you skated up to him with a stunned look on your face. You were both surprised and irritated he had managed to pull it off so well. Of course you’d seen his brother do it plenty of times but that was his area of expertise. Copia wasn’t a figure skater.

“How…how did you…?”

“Do you need me to show you how the move works?” He held up his hands when you glared at him. “I grew up with Terzo, Paperina. I’d practice with him sometimes.”

“‘Sometimes’ huh?” You shook your head in disbelief, beginning to skate closer to him. “Is there anything you aren’t good at?”

“Kissing.”

His answer startled you enough you tried to stop and ended up losing your balance. Copia’s hands shooting out and grabbing you around your waist were the only thing that kept you upright. You found yourself placing your hands on his shoulders as his own slid further around you and rested at the small of your back.

“Kissing?”

“Sí. I’m terrible at it.”

“Oh. Well, that’s a shame.” He nodded solemnly, the twinkle in his eyes the only thing giving away the joke. “You should try to get some practice in.”

“Will you help me, Paperina?”

You wanted to say yes, you wanted to shout yes. But you really didn’t need to say anything, it was obviously what you both wanted right then. You leaned in at the same time as Copia, your lips touching gently against each other for only a moment before the movements became more intense. Copia kept one arm around your waist but the other he slid up to cradle the back of your head. You wrapped your own arms around his neck and pushed your fingers into his hair. When he urged your head to tilt to the side his mouth opened over yours and you let out a tiny moan when his tongue pushed inside.

As you flicked your own tongue against his you pressed yourself as close to him as possible. Kissing on ice skates was definitely not ideal and you nearly bit his tongue when he tugged you closer and you almost fell. Copia pulled away with a growl, both of his hands going down to grip your ass as he gently pushed you backwards. You couldn’t take your eyes off his already swollen lips but when your back hit the side of the rink you glanced up to meet his mismatched gaze.

He took his hands off your ass and used one to cup your face, the other pressed against the concrete wall that was on one side of the rink. It looked like he was going to say something but thought better of it, his mouth lowering once more to yours. This kiss was immediately hot and dirty, your tongues fighting each other for some unknown prize. A deep groan vibrated in his chest when you nipped and sucked on his and he pressed his body even harder against yours.

When you started to lose your footing on the ice again Copia shoved his knee between your legs, pushing it against the wall. He gripped your hips with both hands and lifted you, propping you up so his strong thigh was basically the only thing keeping you upright. The muscle pressing against you and the heat from his leg along with the friction against your core had you whimpering into his mouth. Copia pulled his mouth away from you and leaned his forehead against yours once more.

“I knew you’d be like this.” He tugged your hips back and forth to rub you against him even more deliciously and you panted into his mouth. “So responsive for me. I bet you’re already wet too.”

“What about you?” Copia groaned when you reached down and rubbed his hardening dick through his jeans. “Looks like I’m not the only one.”

With a growl he kissed you again, nipping at your lips and tongue. His mustache tickled your skin and you knew you’d have to apply extra makeup tomorrow to hide the redness. Honestly you didn’t care what he did at the moment, you just wanted him to keep kissing you. You had one arm wrapped around his neck for balance but you pushed your other hand back into his hair, scratching at his scalp and enjoying the way he groaned at the contact. When Copia pulled one hand off your hip you expected to feel it delve into your own hair but instead his warm palm covered your breast and it was your turn to groan when he rubbed his thumb across your hardening nipple.

If it wasn’t for the sudden blast of music blaring across the speakers you probably would have let him fuck you right there on the ice. Copia pulled away, a violent series of Italian curses falling from his lips. Thankfully he helped keep you steady because at the moment your legs were in no shape to keep you on your feet. You chose to cling to his shirt and bury your face in his chest to try to catch your breath as you felt him jerk his head around looking for the culprit. When the music stopped you heard the voice of the owner over the intercom.

“Time’s up Emeritus! Take the lady to bed at least!”

You snorted against Copia, smiling when you heard him laugh too. He was keeping a firm grip on you, one hand rubbing up and down your back when he felt you shiver. It had little to do with the cold though. Your body was still coming down from the pleasure that had built up inside of you and when you moved you could feel Copia was still slightly hard. He hissed when you moved against him again.

“Quit that, we have an audience.”

“You started it.”

He laughed again, cupping your face so he could tilt it up and you could meet his eyes.

“I didn’t hear any complaints from you. Just “Oh Copia, yes Copia. Hey!” He barely caught his balance when you pushed him away, his arms flailing wildly as you started skating towards the exit. You had just placed a hand on the wall to step out of the rink when he came up behind you, his hands finding your hips and pulling you back against him so he could lean down and whisper into your ear. “You will be saying that to me eventually, Paperina. I promise you.”

He helped you step out of the rink, his hand not leaving the small of your back until you were at the bench where your things were. Copia knelt down in front of you and batted your hands away so he could untie your laces and slip the skates off your feet. You flexed them when they were free, happy to have them out of the unfamiliar skates. When Copia took your right foot in his hand you gasped. It turned into a quiet moan when he began to dig his thumbs into the sole and massage the tightness out.

“Oh! Right there.” You bit your lip to try to keep all the noises you wanted to make from escaping. Copia’s fingers were magic, not that you should be surprised. “Yes, Copia that’s perfect.”

“See? Only took a few minutes.”

When you realized what he meant you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his antics. He switched to your other foot with a grin and gave it the same attention before finally pulling away to get his own skates off. The owner was waiting for you at the front and thankfully didn’t say anything as you slipped by. You knew your hair was probably a mess, not to mention how swollen your lips were. At least the coat Copia had on was long enough to cover his crotch. By how stiff he was walking it was obvious he was still a little hard and you smiled smugly as you walked ahead of him.

“You owe me Emeritus.”

“Sí, sí.” Copia finished talking to the owner and then jogged to catch up with you, quickly grabbing your hand when he did. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into him a bit, especially with the air having gotten colder. “So, did you have fun?”

“It was ok.”

When he gasped dramatically you tucked your head into his arm for a moment to try and warm up your nose. He clicked his tongue and stopped, tugging at his scarf to release it. When he started wrapping it around your neck you suddenly couldn’t meet his eyes. The act felt intimate, much more so than what had just happened in the rink. Copia leaned in to kiss your cold nose when he was done.

“I’m going to have to buy more clothes soon if you keep taking them all.” You were about to respond when you noticed a familiar looking ribbon under the color of his shirt. Copia caught you looking and smiled, grabbing it and then pulling it out so you could see. The gold medal he earned that day shone under the streetlamp and you tentatively reached out to touch it. “You don’t get this one, Paperina.”

“You’re right, I’ll be getting my own soon.”

He grinned, shoving the medal back under his shirt and then taking your hand again. The walk back to the village was quiet. The only sounds coming from the snow crunching under your shoes and the occasional conversations from people passing you by. The lounge was still busy despite the hour and Copia kept you close as crowds of athletes moved around you both. He didn’t let go of your hand when you got into the elevator or even when you got to the door of your room, giving it a quick squeeze as you shoved your key into the door.

“Is Terzo here?”

“No, he said he’d be staying with Omega tonight.”

“Ah, young love.” You smiled, looking down at your hand in his until another squeeze had you meeting his eyes. “Will you be ok by yourself, Paperina?”

“I will lock my door and not let any strangers in, I promise.”

“Tsk, that’s not what I meant. I don’t want you ah, ‘reviewing the tapes’.”

You winced, feeling a little guilty because for some reason you had debated on doing that. But no, Copia was right. That wasn’t going to do you any good.

“Nope, straight to bed for me.”

It was on the tip of your tongue to invite him in and the more you thought about it the more you wanted it to happen. But it was already late and there was no way you’d get any sleep with Copia in bed with you. He gave you a small smile before bringing his free hand to his mouth and tugging his glove off with his teeth. When he was done he brought it to his scarf and started to tug it loose from your neck. You thought he was going to pull it off at first but he just pushed it away enough so he could cup your cheek. His thumb brushed along your bottom lip and you couldn’t help but stick your tongue out and touch his skin. Copia groaned and crowded you back against the door.

“I’m trying to be good and follow your rules here but you are making it very difficult.”

“You already broke the rules by coming here in the first place.”

“Eh, more like adjusted them a bit.” He sucked his full bottom lip between his teeth while his eyes dropped to your own lips. “It was worth it though, sÍ?”

“Yes, thank you for doing this.”

Copia smiled and dropped a kiss on your forehead.

“We’ll get to do this again tomorrow night, yeah? After your event?”

“I told you, it’s just the short program. There’s no medal tomorrow.”

“But it’s important. Right?” When you nodded he cocked his head to the side for a moment. “Fifth place or better.”

“What?”

“Your scores, if you get fifth place or better we’ll have another date.”

You thought about it for a moment and then nodded. Fifth place or higher would put you in a good position before your long program later in the week. Your combined scores, as long as you skated well, would put you in contention for a medal. You desperately wanted gold but you were starting to realize any medal would be amazing. A great achievement after your injury and the long recovery. You just wanted on that podium, that’s all. It was doable and after tonight with Copia you felt like you’d make it up there.

As long as you skated well.

“Fifth place or better. I can do that.”

“You will do that, Paperina.” He squeezed your hand one last time before letting go. “I’ll be there to cheer you on.”

“Oh, Copia no. You don’t have to do that.”

“I actually do, Primo is making me. Ai!” He grunted when your fist connected with his shoulder, laughing and grabbing your hand when you tried to do it again. His mustache tickled the back of it when he dropped a kiss there. Copia grinned as he dropped your hand, reaching out to tap the tip of your nose. “Besides, there’s something important I have to see.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

He moved back a few steps and winked, the grin still fixed on his face.

“Those feathers in action.”

To say you were worried was an understatement.

You just needed to get above fifth, that’s all. Fifth or higher and you had a chance just like Copia had said, just like you had been repeating in your head all morning. Hardly anyone came back from a lower place than that after the short program. It’s not that you would give up if you got below fifth, but getting a medal at these games would be near impossible at that point. So. Fifth or better.

Terzo had managed third, a fact that he had been crowing about since it happened. The men had skated that morning and while you should have been practicing you ignored your coach’s recommendation and came to watch Terzo perform. Omega and Secondo both had games that morning so it had been just you and Primo. The eldest brother had probably been the loudest out of anyone else in the crowd as Terzo worked his ass off skating to his music.

To the surprise of no one Terzo had chosen an ABBA song.

“Paperina, you look nervous.”

At Copia’s voice you jumped, nearly losing your balance. He reached out and grabbed your hands, not letting go until you were steady again on your feet. You quickly looked around to see if anyone had seen you but thankfully everyone was busy either talking to the skater that had just performed or cleaning the rink. When you looked back at Copia he was grinning.

“What are you doing here?”

“I told you I was going to come.”

“Yes but you should be in the stands, not back here.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, reaching out and fingering one of the feathers at your waist. You had another quick look around, wincing when you saw your coach glaring at you. “Quit that.”

He hissed when you slapped his hand away from your costume and shoved his hands into his pockets. A reporter sidled closer and you sighed. It would have been easy to spot Copia even if he wasn’t wearing a bright green, white and red tracksuit that didn’t say Italy all over it. You wondered what story the reporter would come up with.

“Remember, fifth or higher.”

“Yes, yes I know.”

“But first is better, yeah?” He brought a hand up to his neck and pulled his medal out from yesterday, the gold catching on all the bright lights in the arena. “You see? Gold.”

“It’s not actually gold you moron.” The reporter was definitely interested now and you noticed another one whose interest had been piqued. “Put that thing away.”

“Fine, fine. You’ll be begging to see it later though.”

“I will scratch your eyes out if you wink at me again.”

“You’re very aggressive, Paperina. Is it the nerves?” He reached out and grabbed one of your hands, rubbing his thumb back and forth along the back. “What do you have to be nervous about? You’re going to do amazing.”

You stopped glaring at the reporters and met Copia’s eyes. His gaze was steady as he watched you, his thumb still rubbing your hand. He was wearing gloves like usual, these ones black leather and the material was warm against your cold skin. You took a deep breath and straightened your shoulders.

“I’m not nervous.” He smiled and gave your hand a squeeze before letting go. “I can do this.”

“I know you can.”

You nodded, trying to give him a confident smile and hoping you pulled it off. When you glanced back out over the ice it was empty and the announcers were gearing up for your routine. Your coach popped up in the corner of your eye and took a deep breath trying to clear your head. This was it. You hadn’t spent years preparing for this to blow it at the last moment. Before you headed over to your coach you looked back at Copia and tried to give him a confident smile.

“Wish me luck.”

“I would say ‘break a leg’ but that would be very bad, don’t do that.” He just laughed when you glared at him. Copia took a quick look around before stepping forward so no one else would hear him. “I want to celebrate with you later, Paperina. Don’t mess it up.”

You sighed when you heard a few cameras click, knowing they caught the intimate moment. Copia didn’t seem to care, turning to give the photographers a smile before looking back at you. The announcers called your name and your coach came up to urge you toward the rink. With one last look at Copia you moved away and took a deep steadying breath.

Messing up wasn’t an option, you wanted to celebrate with him too.

You ended up third.

When the music had ended and you stood out there in your final position you had been so overcome with emotion. So much hard work, so many long hours and now it was finally over with. Well, at least the short program was. You’d be back out there for the long skate in a few days. That was something to worry about later though, preferably tomorrow. Tonight you planned on celebrating and pushing all your other worries out of your mind.

You also planned on burning this damn costume too.

As flowers and stuffed animals rained down on the ice you eagerly skated off and were quickly whisked away by your coach. Then came the usual song and dance of watching the judges post your scores, more screaming and crying and finally giving a few interviews to the various reporters milling about. By the time you were done with it all the last skater had competed and you had gotten the confirmation about your third place finish. The sense of relief you felt followed you all the way to the locker room where you quickly threw your track suit over your costume, grabbed your things and headed out.

Right as you were messing with your phone to try and see where Terzo had gone off to a pair of strong arms wrapped around you from behind and you were lifted off the ground.

“Amica mia! You did it!” You let Terzo swing you around a bit before spinning in his arms and hugging him back. “I told you!”

Your emotions were getting the best of you so you just clung to your friend a little tighter for a moment, feeling so thankful for him. You didn’t let go until a throat cleared nearby and when you looked to who had made the noise you were met with Copia’s pleased smile.

“Well done Paperina.” You smiled back, fighting the urge to run into his arms. Your adrenaline was still high from performing and it felt like electricity was sparking along your skin. With Copia’s eyes on you the feeling was even stronger. “I knew you could do it.”

“Thank you Copia.” When he pulled an arm from behind his back you felt your cheeks pink at the rose he held in his hand. You pulled away from Terzo and shyly walked over to take it from Copia’s fingers, your own twitching a bit when they made contact with his warm gloves. “Did you buy this or pick it up off the rink?”

“I stole it from that idiot that got first.” He grinned when you rolled your eyes. “Should’ve been you, Paperina.”

“What did you call her?” Copia shot his brother a glare and you turned around to look at Terzo. “Paperina?”

“Zitto, Terzo!”

“Wait, what’s going on?” You looked from brother to brother, Terzo looked on the verge of laughter while Copia just continued to glare at him. “It’s just because of my costume, Terzo. Swan Lake.”

“SÍ, but Paperina doesn’t me–hey, what the fuck?!” Terzo snarled at Copia after being hit in the head with the stuffed bear. “She’ll find out eventually!”

“Find out what?” When neither brother said anything you growled and walked over to your things. “Whatever, I’m going back to my room.”

“No, wait!” You stopped when Terzo called out, raising an eyebrow when he gave you a sheepish look. “I was actually hoping to have the room to myself tonight.”

“Oh come on! Where am I supposed to sleep then?”

Both you and Terzo turned to stare at Copia when he cleared his throat.

“You can stay with me, Paperina.” There was that fluttering again, your heart feeling like it was skipping a beat or two. He wandered over to where the bear had landed and then came to exchange it for your gear bag. “Didn’t I say we’d be celebrating?”

Copia’s mouth was latched onto your neck before the door to his room was closed.

“No, no–ah! No marks. Not where people can see them.”

He pulled away with a growl, capturing your mouth again instead. As his tongue roughly toyed with yours he brought a hand to your thigh and lifted your leg up to wrap around his waist. It gave him enough room to start grinding against you, his sweatpants doing little to hide his hard cock. You whimpered when it pressed between your legs, the thin material of your tights doing little to block yourself from him.

“I could probably sink into you right now, couldn’t I?” You nodded weakly, thunking your head back against the door when he ground even harder against you. “I could rip these tights open and have you screaming my name.”

“Yes! Copia please.”

You could see him smirking through your half lidded eyes, the intense pleasure of him rubbing against your cunt making it hard to keep them open. His hands started fiddling with your skirt, the feathers rustling as he pushed it higher up your stomach.

“Will you be wearing this again?”

“What?” You blinked at his question, not sure what he was getting at. “What do you mean?”

“I’m about to rip it off of you, is that ok Paperina?” He was barely done with his question before you were vigorously nodding your head. With a growl he had his hands at the top of your tights and the room filled with the sound of ripping fabric. You shivered when the cool air hit your exposed flesh, moaning when he dragged a bare finger through your cunt. “Cazzo, so wet for me already.”

He added a second finger, rubbing them up and down between your lips. The slick sounds of them moving seemed so loud you were worried that anyone walking down the hallway would hear it. When they teased at your entrance you let out a loud gasp, a loud bang echoing around you when your head fell back against the door again.

People would definitely have heard that.

“You are so responsive, so beautiful.” The tips of his fingers pushed into you slightly before pulling out. He repeated the motion over and over again, going deeper each time. “I can’t wait to fuck you with my cock.”

“Then do it. I want it.”

Copia growled and slammed his mouth against yours right as he pushed his fingers in as far as they’d go. You moaned into his mouth, thankful that it muffled you at least a little bit. His fingers worked in and out of you hard and fast as he kissed you heatedly. You wrapped your arms tight around his neck, pushing up on your toes a bit so the angle of his thrusting fingers was a little better. He started rubbing them harder against your inner walls, catching at the spot inside of you that had you pulling away from his mouth and nearly wailing in pleasure.

“Just this tonight, we still have a few events left after all.” He kissed you again, this time the kiss a little softer but no less passionate. As his fingers on one hand continued to fuck you he brought his other hand close and started rubbing his thumb against your clit. “It will be worth the wait.”

“It bet–oh, oh it better be.”

“Trust me, Paperina. I’ll make sure it is.”

You couldn’t do anything else but nod, the pleasure becoming nearly unbearable as you reached your peak. He knew exactly how to work you, exactly when to apply more pressure and where. Your fingers buried themselves in his hair as your climax hit, your mouth open in a mostly silent cry against his shoulder. It took a few moments for you to come back to yourself and when you did it was to Copia making quiet moaning sounds.

When you blinked your eyes open you looked down to see his hand flying over his cock. The sight of it had more little thrills of pleasure rippling through you. He whispered your name and you looked back up at his face, meeting his odd eyes. You slipped a hand off his shoulder and moved it down to his cock, wrapping your fingers around the head as he continued to pump his shaft. His moans became louder as you both worked him over until his cock twitched between you, his hot cum shooting out the tip.

Copia cursed quietly in Italian as you stroked him through it, making sure every last drop left him. It had dripped onto his pants and you noticed streaks across the feathers of your costume. You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing at the sight, instead moving to press a deep kiss into Copia’s lips. He hummed happily into your mouth as you tangled your tongue with his briefly before pulling away, his lips curled up in a familiar smug smile. You glanced down at yourself and his eyes followed, looking over the ripped tights and the cum stained feathers. When he let out a wistful sigh you put a finger on his chin to tip his head back up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Paperina.” He shrugged and then leaned forward to kiss the tip of your nose. “I’m just going to miss this costume.”

Part Two Coming Soon! (leave me a comment if you'd like to be tagged 💙)

I wrote a little ficlet describing Terzo and Omega's meeting as well: Shooting His Shot

A/N: Did I write this because I became obsessed with the thought of Copia's thick thighs in a tight speed skating outfit? Yes, obviously. I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know if you'd like to see more from this little universe💙

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