#so that's another request from me for future! :')

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕨𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕪: 𝕋𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕃𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕤

𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚛!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

warnings: older!rafe, age gap (college senior with rafe in his 30s), secret dating, angst, fighting, suspected cheating, name-calling, swearing, pet names, rafe grabs the reader’s face, spanking, spanking with a belt, bdsm, wet and messy, squirting, edging, multiple orgasms, threats, unprotected p in v, orgasm denial and control, rough sex, fingering, manhandling, soft!rafe at the end, praise, dirty talk, brat taming, teasing

📖 All of my asks got deleted 💕😭 so I'm not sure who requested this, but thank you! This was not a kinkmas ask, but I made it one 😋 The premise is that Professor!Rafe has been distant and now after cancelled plans you want to know what the hell is going on.

Masterlist

Reader’s POV:

The brisk December air bit your cheeks as you stepped out of your apartment and headed downtown. Christmas lights glowed warm along the street, but your mood was anything but light. You stuffed your hands into your pockets; your arm looped in your friend’s, head tilted on her shoulder as you suffered in silence.

All your finals were done, a long, relaxing break to look forward to, but all you could do was think about him…

For months, you had been navigating your whirlwind romance, secretly dating your Professor—sexy, intelligent, successful… And you had fallen hard against your better judgment. It was wrong… It was risky as hell… But it was real. Or, at least, you thought it was.

Lately, though, Rafe has been pulling away—canceled plans, vague apologies— his lingered gaze that you had gotten so used to fizzling away. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration. A night away, just the two of you, celebrating your completion of the semester and a week of rest and relaxation for the both of you.

He hadn’t even brought up winter break… Rafe wasn’t looking toward the future anymore. He was completely checked out.

But tonight was different… He canceled, and unlike before, you didn’t ask for an explanation. And to your disappointment, he didn’t give one either.

“Forget him,” you grumble, momentarily wallowing in self-pity.

“Forget who?” Your friend asks with a laugh as she squeezes your arm a little tighter.

You bite your lips, taking a shallow breath as you let those two words slip your lips. “This guy from my econ class,” you lie. “He blamed our B on me…” Another lie.

”Who complains about a B in college?” Your friend scoffs and laughs, tipping her head on yours. “Forget him? Fuck him…”

“Agreed,” you smile, the wavering in your tone making her raise an eyebrow, pressing again.

“Is that why you didn’t want to come out?” She asks as she softens her voice. You flutter your lashes, feeling the emotion you’ve been pushing down bubble up in your chest.

It’s not like anything has happened… Nothing has happened, as a matter of fact. He was giving you nothing, yet you felt his silence was speaking louder than any words could. And who could you talk to about it? No one.

“Babe?” She tries again as your friends walk across the bustling street, heading into the flooded downtown area.

“Just not feeling like myself lately…” Your voice floats away with the winter wind as you see Rafe open the door, holding it open for a woman to pass through.

He looks handsome in his fitted suit and black wool overcoat, his hair brushed back, giving you a glimpse of his perfect face and chiseled features.

Your friend coaxes you forward, but your body freezes in the middle of the sidewalk. You watch as Rafe and a beautiful woman in a powder pink dress fall out of sight, disappearing behind the doors of The Flora Room.

“Seriously, what’s going on with you?” She asks, shaking you playfully to get you out of your daze.

“Where do you guys wanna go?” One of the girls in your party calls out. You look around the little town square, seeing bar after bar, knowing it would be a tough sell to get your friends to sit down even for a single drink in there when they could buy three shitty drinks for the fee of one overpriced martini.

You watch your friends drift to one of the downtown sports bars, but you keep your feet grounded. Your friend reads the room, hanging back with you, following where you lead, her curiosity piqued.

“You gonna tell me what’s goin’ on?” She mumbles from the corner of her lips as the two of you pass through the doors.

There’s no bouncer at the door; your shoes don’t stick to the ground with each step. Screaming, laughing, and a deep bass rumbling from the speakers are exchanged for light conversation and piano music. It’s rich and elegant, the polar opposite of what the two of you are used to on a typical night out.

“We’re just gonna sit at the bar,” you smile at the hostess, who extends a hand, ushering you back. Your eyes dance around the space, looking for Rafe and the women as you feel your anger and unease fester.

So busy you couldn’t see me, huh? You seethe as you position yourself just far enough away from him.

The situation is hard to read—a party? You look at the group he’s with; the lot of them dressed to the nines. Watching with your breath held as she laughs, his head tilting slightly as if the woman said something clever.

She looks sophisticated and expensive, her curves hugged in a dress that seems to have been made for her. She reaches out, squeezing Rafe's bicep as she chuckles again, making your stomach churn.

The bartender rests your martinis in front of you. You keep your eyes locked ahead; the tears in your eyes sparkle in the bar lighting. It's impossible to see without blinking, but you know the second you do, they’ll fall.

Your friend's hand rests on your thigh, and with that little bit of physical contact, your eyes shut. Tears roll down your cheeks and fall off your chin. She looks ahead, following where your attention was paid before looking back at you and back at him again. “Oh…” she breathes, before her eyes widen.

“Yeah,” you whimper, knowing she put two and two together. ”Just don’t-”

”I won’t say anything,” she assures before you can even finish, reaching over, blotting the tears off your cheeks with a bar napkin.

You reach in your purse, hands tightening around your phone, and without thinking, you open the text thread… The one where Rafe left you on read.

You: We’re done.

You watch as Rafe’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He adjusts slightly, looks at the lock screen, and sees the notification with your name on the front before stuffing it back in his pocket, not giving it any more attention.

Missed call after missed call; text after text… It only took a few blocks before Rafe finally pulled his phone out of his pocket and gave you the time of day.

You couldn’t help but give him a similar treatment, watching as all his attempts rolled in, you not making any effort at all. You look over your shoulder as you walk into your apartment; there are so many texts from Rafe that you know he can’t be far behind.

You pace your apartment, just waiting for the inevitable. Regardless of what that was or what that wasn’t, he’s been ignoring you. How simple would it have been to let you know where he was going and the real reason why he canceled?

That woman—who the fuck was that? A friend, I’m sure… But you couldn’t even fathom Rafe watching that all go down. He would feel the same fucking way, especially if you were giving him reasons to worry before.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

You hear Rafe’s heavy footsteps on the other side of the door, making your stomach sink, jarring you out of your thoughts.

“Baby,” Rafe’s familiar voice called from the other side. “What the hell is going on, huh? Open the door.”

Your fingers curl into fists by your sides, annoyed at how easily Rafe could demand your time. How he only seemed to care when you sent those three words. “Go away!” You shout, feeling goosebumps spread across your body.

“Not fucking happening,” his tone was firm—the frustration bled through his words. “Open the door.”

“No.”

“You kiddin’ me?” BANG. He bangs his fist against the door in frustration. You hear his voice soften as he gets closer to the door's seam. “What the fuck is going on?” He hisses.

“Why don’t you tell me,” you step a little closer as well.

“If I knew, I would apologize. Alright? I got nothin’ to hide from you-”

”Bullshit,” you cut him off. “Who was she, Rafe?”

“What?” He cries out as he jiggles the door handle rapidly, testing it and then testing it again. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“The women from the bar, Rafe. I was there.”

“Princess… What the hell?” He breathes. “You don’t understand, baby. C’mon.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly, Rafe,” you snap as you bang against the door yourself. “You’ve been ignoring me for days, you barely look at me anymore, you're canceling our plans, not telling me where the hell you’re going, and then I find you on the night we were supposed to actually spend some goddamn time together flirting with someone else. Yeah, Rafe. I understand. You’re a liar.”

Silence falls heavily outside the door. You furrow your eyebrows, looking through the peephole straight at your neighbor's door, your heart breaking when you don’t see him on the other side.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, making your heart leap.

Rafe: Have a great night, sweetheart.

“You’re joking me,” you huff as you push out into the hall, gasping as Rafe pushes you back in.

“I love you. But you’re being a fuckin’ brat,” he grunts as he lets the door clap shut behind him before dragging you a few steps to your room, slamming that door as well.

“You have five minutes to explain, Rafe,” you shout, “then I’m kicking you out.”

“Five minutes, sweetheart? After all this time? That’s generous of you.”

“Talk or leave,” you snarl before Rafe shoves you down on the bed, making you gasp again as he mounts you fast, his hand slapping against your mouth, holding it shut.

“Stop fucking testing me and listen. Alright?” You mumble underneath his trembling palm. “If I lift my hand, you’re gonna listen to me, do you understand?”

Your eyes narrow on his, and he cocks an eyebrow at you. “I’ll tape your mouth shut if you won’t listen to me. You know that, right?” He asks in a gentler tone, contrasting his dark words.

You roll your eyes, finding yourself getting more annoyed by the second. “The fuck has gotten into you, huh?” He asks as he looks down at you below him, wearing a new defiance you’ve never shown before.

He lifts his hand, and you huff out a breath, scowling as you look up at him. The older man looks back at you with the same disgusted look.

“What, Rafe?”

“There’s been a rumor circulating around the campus that a professor has been sleeping with a student… I’ve been dealing with that—I have not been avoiding you for any reason other than that. And that woman… That woman who could never be you, princess, is not who you think. Okay?”

“So, who is she, then?” Your glare softens slightly, the bite of your tongue still there. “Because you sure seemed like you were enjoying her company, Rafe.”

Rafe sighs deeply, dragging his hand through his hair as he steps off the bed. “She’s the new University President… That was the faculty Christmas party. I forgot to tell you because I was too caught up in all this shit.”

”You forgot?” You ask. Rafe is taken aback by your attitude, even after telling you everything.

“Yes. I forgot,” he answers, his tone sharp. “Because I’ve been trying to figure out how to protect us,” he chides as he gestures between you. “The scandal, the risks… You kept sayin’ everything was fine, so I wasn’t worried. I have never worried about you.”

You feel a slight guilt creep in, seeing him so vulnerable. You would be lying if you said you didn’t assure him everything was okay and that the two of you were fine. “Well, maybe if you’d told me, I wouldn’t have assumed the worst.”

“Assumed the worst?” Rafe’s scoffs, his frustration crystal clear. “You mean accusing me of cheating and ending things over a text? A text? Because that’s a rational response right there, sweetheart. Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?”

”You don’t get to turn this shit around on me, Rafe. You’ve been distant. When I told you I was “okay,” I wasn’t… Didn’t you notice a change between you and me? Couldn't you hear it in my voice that I clearly was not okay? You’re so distant. It’s like we’re not even together-”

“I’ve been distant because I’m dealing with this—this shit has real consequences, princess. This isn’t a fuckin’ game. If anyone finds out about us-”

“Then talk to me!” You yell over him as you step closer. “You’re acting like I’m irrational. I would have understood. All you had to do was tell me what’s going on!”

“And all you had to do was ask instead of throwing a fuckin’ tantrum,” he shoots back.

Your jaw drops, temper flaring even more. “A tantrum?”

“Yes,” he says firmly, his gaze unwavering. “A tantrum. You’re acting like a spoiled brat-”

”Fuck you,” you hiss. “Get the fuck out of my apartment.”

“What the hell?” He laughs at you weakly, looking back at you like you’ve gone completely mad. “Where’s my girl? What the fuck is happening?”

“Do you need help finding the door or what?”

His eyes widen; the man struck utterly silent. “Please tell me you haven't been feelin’ this way the whole time we’ve been together,” he asks, the exhaustion of the fight wearing on him as he looks back at you, shoulder slumped, breathing heavy.

“The last few weeks, yeah-”

“But not the whole time, right?” He asks, the tone of his voice letting you know you both know the answer.

“No… Not the whole time,” you mumble.

“Couldn’t have given me the benefit of the doubt, princess? I mean hell, sweetheart. You could have looked around the goddamn bar. What the hell would I be doin’ hanging out with your Econ teacher if I could be spendin’ the night with you? Why would I be rubbin’ shoulders with Dean Richardson— your Dean, by the way, unless I had to, huh? Don't you think I’d rather spend my night with you?”

You look back into his piercing blue eyes, your cheeks burning with a mix of shame and anger. You open your mouth to speak, but he steps toward you fast, standing above you as you sit on the edge of the bed. You squeak as he grips your cheeks in his big ringed hand, forcing your gaze.

“I love you, princess… But you need to grow up. Use your words. Stop jumpin’ to conclusions and start cuttin’ me some fuckin’ slack.” You mumble, but he pinches your cheeks even more. “Stop cuttin’ off before I can explain myself.” Rafe slots himself between your thighs, loosening his hold slightly.

“I…” You hesitate, taking a little breath as you look at him. “I’m sorry. I just—”

“No.” Rafe silences you as he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips. “Apologies are fine, but you need to listen. This isn’t some fling. This is real. And if we’re gonna make this shit work, you have to trust me. Even when it’s hard,” Rafe whispers, letting his lips graze against yours.

Your heart pounds in your chest, thighs drawing in slightly. “I trust you, baby,” you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe pulls away, his gaze softening more than before, but his frustration hasn’t completely faded from his beautiful blue eyes. “Then show me… Stop playin’ these games.”

“I wasn’t playing games,” you protest, but he cuts you off with a look that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand straight.

“You sent me a breakup text, then ignored me when I came here to fix it,” he chides. “I’m not some frat boy—not some college kid you can pull that shit with. Aight? And if you don’t think that little stunt you pulled is a game, I don’t know what is. Do you know how many times I called you?”

“I texted you too, and you ignored it,” you mumble as you look away, feeling the weight of his gaze as your face heats up.

“N’why do you think I had to do that, huh?” He adds condescendingly.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. Knowing that answering a text from you, a mid-faculty party in the light of a scandal, probably wouldn’t have been Rafe’s best move.

“We’re done with this little back-and-forth bullshit. If you have a problem, tell me. And if I screw up, I’ll do the same.” You nod, looking at Rafe again as he cups your face, his rough thumb tracing your bottom lip.

“Rafe…” You pout.

“Yes, baby,” he responds gentler than before.

“Why aren’t you talkin’ about the future anymore? I know you wanted to take the heat off us but didn’t even ask what I’m doing for break. You didn’t even make plans with me-”

“Shh…” He shushes you as he looks down at you tiredly, about ready to lose his mind that you’re still challenging him in some way. “Take out my phone,” he mumbles. You lower your gaze slightly, reach into the pocket of his dress slacks, and pull out the device. “Your birthday, baby,” he hums his passcode. You unlock the phone, looking up at him again. “Open my email…”

You pull up Rafe’s Gmail and see the confirmation for the Four Seasons Resort and Residences in Vail, with your name attached to the reservation made a week ago.

“You drive me insane, you know that?” He murmurs as he grabs the phone off your hands, tossing it to the side.

“I’m sorry-”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“I mean it, Rafe. I-”

“You think you can sass me, throw a tantrum, and walk away without consequences?” He mumbles. “I think it’s time someone teaches you a lesson about being a brat, princess,” he whispers as his lips find your neck, licking and sucking your hot skin, making your pulse race.

Rafe’s loosened tie hangs from his neck, sweeping against your thighs as his teeth graze along your ear. You grab it, pulling him toward your lips, making him chuckle against yours.

“Got some shit you wanna say, sweetheart?” He laughs darkly.

“Maybe I like being a brat, Rafe,” you whisper, feeling him smile against your lips.

Rafe kisses you deeply, sucking off your bottom lip, taking it between his teeth, nipping with enough pinch to make you whimper into his open mouth. “Then I guess this is going to be a long night for you, princess,” he rasps as he grabs your tights between his fingers, ripping them open. You inhale sharply as he cups your pussy in his big hand, rubbing your sex over your wet panties.

“Fuck,” you whimper as he slaps your cunt, making your thighs draw in just for him to force them apart. He continues to tease you over your panties as he gathers your hair with his other hand, tugging it back.

“These last few weeks… Fuck, they’ve been frustrating, huh?” He asks as he pushes his big fingers into your entrance, the threshold of the wet cotton blocking him from going any deeper than a knuckle deep. “And you’re gonna misbehave? Make it harder on me? You know I could have just taken my frustration out on this pretty little pussy, baby,” he mumbles as he hooks his finger around your panties, pulling the fabric tight, making you whimper.

“Rafe, please-”

“We’re at the finish line. Two days away from a vacation that I’ve been plannin’ for weeks. That I was gonna surprise you with… and you’re actin’ like a fuckin’ brat? What’s that about, huh?” He asks as he paws off his tie, tosses it on the bed, and pops open the buttons of his shirt one by one.

You take in his gorgeous body as he exposes more skin—his broad chest and his cut abs, the deep ridges of his v-lines kissing the top of his pants. You bite your lip, stripping yourself of your tattered tights and clothes as he undoes his leather belt, releasing it with a crack before tossing it on the bed.

“Stand up,” he orders, and you do as your tummy flutters. “Turn around. Hands behind your back.” Rafe reaches for his tie, running it through his big fingers as he takes in your body. “Wrists, baby,” he mumbles against your neck as he stands close, his rock-hard cock pressing against your ass.

Rafe binds your wrists and grabs your hips, sitting down on the bed, guiding you to lay over his big thighs, your ass in the air. Rafe’s rough fingers drift up the back of your legs, making you tremble, your wetness already weeping from your aching hole.

He chuckles as he runs two thick fingers right through it, taking it between his lips, moaning around his digits. “Fuck, princess… You’re a problem aren't you? Gettin’ wet off this shit, huh? Like gettin’ yelled at and punished.”

“Yes,” you whimper.

“Yes, what, princess?” He groans as his hand comes down on your ass, making you cry out.

“Yes, sir,” you sniffle. “I like getting yelled at and punished.”

“Atta girl… Look at you. Already turnin’ that little attitude of yours around, huh?” He asks as he thrusts his fingers in your pussy, making you wail. He fucks them into you fast and hard, your warmth squelching lewdly.

You crane your neck, eyes widening as he goes for his leather belt. You struggle slightly, your natural reaction to move away, but his big arm wraps around you, holding you in place. “Think you’re gettin’ away from me?” He chuckles. “Not a fuckin’ chance.”

CRACK.

Rafe delivers a loud smack on your supple flesh. You let out a loud cry, feeling the sting and tears welling on your waterline.

“You had a lot to say before, baby,” he mocks as he drags the leather up the back of your thighs. “Where did my bratty little bitch go, huh?” He mumbles as he lands another hit, making the tears spill over.

Rafe tosses the belt to the ground, plunging his fingers into your slickness again, only to find that you’re even wetter than before. “Stop enjoyin’ this shit so much, pretty,” he breathes, his smug smile heard in your tone as he curls his fingers inside you.

“Yes, baby,” you moan as your head falls forward, feeling yourself about to cum around his big fingers. “Oh, Rafe.”

“Mmm… I should stop, shouldn’t I?” He asks as he continues his brutal pace.

“No… No, please,” you sniffle as you feel your body tighten around him, your peak approaching fast. You lift your ass in the air, following his fingers as he pulls them away gradually, yanking them out right before your body gives way. You gasp, breathing heavily as Rafe robs you of your orgasm, your heart banging in your chest.

“How do you think it felt gettin’ that text tonight, hmm?” He asks as he lifts you off his lap, shoving you on the bed—your chest on the mattress, and your feet on the floor. “The love of my life… The only thing-” CRACK. He spanks you yet again, making you scream. Rafe laughs mockingly into his next couple of words, “The only thing that has ever truly mattered to me,” he mumbles as he lowers himself to his knees. The warmth of his breathing hits your throbbing cunt. “Broke up with me… through a text message. Fuckin’ insane, right?”

His tongue plunges into your drooling hole, fingers swirling on top of your throbbing clit making your thighs tremble. Rafe sucks and tongue-fucks you like a god, taking you right to the edge of ecstasy again. Your muscles clench, fists balled up, rising on your tippy toes reeling, and right when you're about to break, he pulls away again.

“Rafe, please!” You sob.

He steps forward, the front of his muscular thighs flush with the back of yours. You whimper as he draws away just enough; his swollen head rubs through your drenched folds, teasing your clit, toying with your glossy hole ‘til you’re burying your face in your comforter.

"Beg for it, princess. C’mon…” He whispers as he taunts you with his tip.

“Please…” You beg, lips quivering with every breath. “Please… I’m begging you, daddy. M’sorry. I’m so fucking sorry,” you whimper. “I love you… I love you so—oh, fuck,” you cry as he sheathes his cock into your swollen cunt.

Rafe grabs the edge of his tie, knotted around your wrist, using it as a hold to fuck into you deeper, gliding into your greedy hole, your body quickly cumming around him, pussy flutter wildly, but he just keeps on going.

He yanks the tie, pulling it loose. He flips you to your back, looping your legs over his shoulder before plunging in again. Rafe brings his big body closer to yours, folding you in half, toned hips clapping against your body with each rough stroke.

“Didn’t ask for permission, princess. Creamin’ around my dick when I should be usin’ you like my personal fuck toy...” You follow his gaze, looking down at the place where you context the creamy ring of your arousal glistening around his thick base, the picture alone leaving you feeling like you could cum on sight. “You better ask… I know you're about to cum again. And if you do-”

“Rafe, I-” You grit your teeth, fighting back another orgasm you know he’ll deny.

“I’m not done talkin’. Fuck, have you learned nothing?” Hot tears roll down your cheeks, wetting the bed below as your body shakes. “If you cum without askin’, I'm gonna tape those pretty little lips of yours shut, grab that vibrator from your nightstand, and have you cummin’ ‘til you pass out.”

“Please. Please. Please,” you sob.

“Might do it anyways, princess. It’ll be good for you…”

“Rafe!”

“Cum for me, baby.”

You grab the edge of the bed, holding on tight as Rafe makes good on his words, taking his frustrations out on your tight cunt as you squirt around his length.

"There you go, fuckk. There's my girl,” he murmurs, smiling smugly, tilting in and kissing your forehead sweetly, his punishing strokes telling a different story entirely as he chases his climax, emptying himself in your fluttering cunt with one final thrust.

Rafe lowers your trembling legs, dragging back, but you grab his hips, pouting your lips and shaking your head ‘no.’ He smiles down at you, lowering himself to your lips, kissing you deeply.

“I’m sorry…” You whisper.

“Don’t be, baby. I never want you to think I don't care. Okay? I'm sorry… Should have let you know what was goin’ on. I should always be takin’ care of my girl,” he mumbles between gentle kisses. “You were right. Alright?” He whispers before kissing your forehead.

“I thought you didn't want to be with me anymore…”

“That’s crazy, baby. ‘Course I do. I was serious; you're the only thing that truly matters to me…”

You bite your lip, smiling into your kiss. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you, princess.”

tags: @rafesthroatbaby @littlelamy @kisses4angels @watchmerora @buckybarnessweetheart @anamiad00msday @namelesslosers @cades-outsider @romaescapes @starkeysprincess @oxpogues4lifexo @unrealmirrorball @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @rafesgiirl @daryldixon83 @akobx @hyperfixationgirl @lhhlver @rrafeswhore @slut-4-gojo @blair-bears-blog @loveesiren @cameronwillow @rafegf-real @alphabetically-deranged @ariana2saucyy

[sanguineterrain]

hello! are requests open? 😅 i’d like to request for a drabble with a newlywed jason and yn if so!

sure thing! short and sweet <3 jason todd x gn!reader. newlywed fluff.

****

"Okay, toaster from Wade and Logan. Keep or give away?"

"Who the fuck are Wade and Logan?" Jason asks, upside down on the couch. His tie and suit jacket are gone, two buttons on his shirt undone.

"Dunno. I think Roy invited them."

Jason sighs. "Give away. Why did people give us so many toasters?"

You both look at the four toaster boxes in front of you.

"Maybe it's the fashionable thing to have toasters in every room," you say.

You put the fifth toaster in the pile. You didn't even have a toaster on the registry.

"We should give them their toasters back when they get married," Jason says.

"That would be extremely funny, and I'm always ready to commit to the bit."

"I know. 'S why I married you."

That makes you giddy. You look at the ring on your left hand.

"Dude, I can't believe you actually married me," you say.

"I can't believe you're calling me 'dude.' Did I marry a frat boy?"

You grin at Jason. "I love you, man."

"Ridiculous. Gimme my ring back."

"Nope!" You slide to the floor and sit criss-crossed in front of Jason. He folds his arms. You kiss him, mouths slotting oddly due to him being upside down.

You pull away. "No take-backsies."

"Curses!" Jason shakes his fist. "Beaten by the take-backsies rule once again."

You shrug. "I guess you're stuck with me for the foreseeable future."

"Guess so."

He rolls onto his side, so he's lying on the couch properly. He leans in for another kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss with all your might. Jason tugs you up onto the couch so you're atop him. You sit up on your knees, straddling his stomach. You take his left hand.

"Dude, you look really hot in this wedding ring," you say.

"Not as hot as you, babe."

"Way hotter," you say and suck his neck. Jason holds you steady with a hand on the small of your back.

"Tryin' t'maul me? Thank God pictures are done." He doesn't push you away, not even a little.

"Marriage turns me on, broski. I love a man who'll enter a legal contract with me."

"You're a freak," Jason says. "I love you."

You sit up and grin. "I love you too, J.T. Morgan."

He pulls a face. "That's worse than broski."

"Is it, though?"

"It's actually the worst thing I've ever been called," Jason says, deadpan. "My first day as your husband and I'm already being bullied."

"I was bullying you way before you became my husband, J-dog."

"Now you're just saying anything."

"Fine." You lean in so close that your perception warps, and Jason's face looks like it's in a fish-eye camera. "How 'bout I call you pretty boy?"

"Hm." He shifts the way he does when he's getting flustered. "I'll allow it."

"Sweet boy? Angel? Honey bunches? Handsome? Love of my life?"

He clears his throat. "Any of those will do fine, yeah."

You grin and kiss his cheek, watching as Jason pulls that soft, shy smile. The same smile he gave you when you said "I do." You'll never forget it.

You snuggle into his chest. Jason wraps his arms around you, throwing a leg over yours.

"What about the gifts?" he asks.

You shrug. "They can wait. Right now, I'm spending quality time with my husband."

His arms tighten around you. "Now that's a name I'll definitely never get tired of being called."

[herrscherofinsanity]

Royal Ties

Princess y/n is forced to marry Lady Yu in order to secure an allyship; however, being engaged to the youngest member of the Yu family is anything but pleasant.

Arranged marriage

Angst? A bit of fluff?

Karina (Yu Jimin) x fem!reader

Word count: 7.5k

Another request I had a lot of fun with, honestly.

_____________________

The grand hall of the royal palace is filled with tension. y/n stands by her parents, the king and queen, in a gown as radiant as her smile. Her hair catches the sunlight streaming through the stained-glass windows. She looks calm, but inside, her heart flutters with uncertainty.

Across the room stands Jimin, dressed immaculately in a tailored suit, her expression a mask of stoicism. Her sharp features betray no hint of emotion, her hands clasped behind her back as though she’s bracing herself. Her parents, the Duke and Duchess of the Yu family, stand beside her, wearing expressions of pride.

The king clears his throat, his voice carrying authority as he addresses the gathered nobles and dignitaries.

“We are pleased to announce a union that will strengthen the bonds between our families. Princess y/n y/l/n and Lady Yu Jimin will be wed by royal decree.”

The room erupts in polite applause. y/n glances nervously at Jimin, offering a small, hopeful smile. Jimin meets her gaze but doesn’t return the smile. Instead, she offers a curt nod before looking away.

y/n’s heart sinks a little. This is going to be harder than I thought.

Later, as the formalities conclude, y/n approaches Jimin, determined to break the ice.

“Well, I guess we’re stuck together,” she says, her voice light and teasing. “We might as well try to make the best of it.”

Jimin’s eyes flicker to her briefly, cold and detached. “This isn’t about what we want, it’s about duty. Don’t mistake it for anything else.”

The words cut, but y/n refuses to let them show. She tilts her head, offering a brighter smile. “Well, my duty is to be a good wife. Maybe yours should be to at least try to get along with me.”

Jimin blinks, momentarily caught off guard, but her expression hardens again. She inclines her head stiffly. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

y/n watches her walk away, frustration bubbling beneath her cheerful facade. She mutters under her breath, “What a charmer.”

-----

The grand dining hall is an exquisite display of luxury, with long tables draped in silk and adorned with gold candelabras. The royal family and the Yus sit at the head table, with y/n and Jimin side by side at the center. y/n fidgets with the edge of her napkin, her attempts to engage Jimin earlier still weighing on her mind.

The conversation flows smoothly among their families, though y/n barely listens. She’s too aware of Jimin beside her, sitting stiffly, her hands resting on the table as though she’s attending a military briefing.

y/n leans closer, lowering her voice. “You know, you could at least pretend to enjoy yourself. It wouldn’t kill you to smile.”

Jimin doesn’t look at her. “Why waste energy on something so unnecessary?”

y/n stares at her, incredulous. “Unnecessary? We’re literally announcing our engagement. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather people didn’t think we’re doomed from the start.”

Jimin turns her head, her sharp gaze pinning y/n in place. “What people think is irrelevant. What matters is that we fulfill our roles.”

y/n bites back a retort, her frustration rising. “You make it sound like we’re chess pieces. Don’t you think this would be easier if we at least tried to… I don’t know, be human about it?”

Before Jimin can respond, the king raises his glass, silencing the room. He smiles warmly at y/n and Jimin.

“To the future of our families and this union. May it bring prosperity and strength to us all.”

The room erupts in a chorus of “hear, hear,” and y/n forces a smile, raising her glass. She sneaks a glance at Jimin, who lifts her glass with the same detached grace she’s shown all evening.

As the toasts conclude, y/n mutters under her breath, “I bet you’d be better company as a statue.”

Jimin’s lips twitch—just barely, but enough for y/n to catch it. Surprised, she blinks at her.

“Did you… almost smile?”

Jimin sets her glass down, her face blank again. “You’re imagining things.”

y/n huffs, crossing her arms. “Fine. But I’ll get a smile out of you eventually.”

Jimin doesn’t respond, but the faintest flicker of amusement dances in her eyes before it disappears.

-----

The engagement dinner had finally ended, and y/n practically fled to her chambers, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floors. She threw herself onto the plush sofa near the window, letting out an exasperated groan.

Moments later, the door creaked open, and Liz peeked inside, her lips curling into an amused smirk. “I thought I’d find you sulking in here.”

y/n sat up, narrowing her eyes. “I’m not sulking. I’m… processing.”

Liz stepped in, closing the door behind her. “Processing? Interesting choice of words. Tell me, how’s married life shaping up with our beloved Ice Queen?”

y/n glared at her older sister. “Liz, I swear, if you call her that one more time…”

Liz plopped down beside her, unbothered. “I mean, am I wrong? The woman practically froze the air around her during dinner.”

y/n sighed, burying her face in her hands. “It’s like talking to a brick wall. No, worse—because at least a brick wall doesn’t actively try to make you feel like an idiot.”

Liz chuckled, patting y/n’s shoulder. “Come on, it can’t be that bad. Maybe she’s just… shy.”

“Shy?” y/n looked at her incredulously. “No, Liz, shy is blushing and stammering. She’s cold, calculating, and—” She hesitated, her voice softening. “And probably really angry about all this.”

Liz tilted her head, studying her sister. “You think she resents the marriage that much?”

y/n nodded. “She said it outright. She doesn’t care about me or what people think—she’s just here to ‘fulfill her role.’”

Liz leaned back, crossing her legs. “Well, that’s annoying. But if you ask me, she’s probably not as indifferent as she lets on.”

y/n frowned. “What makes you say that?”

“Because she hasn’t walked away,” Liz said simply. “She could’ve made this even more miserable for you by being openly defiant, but she hasn’t. She’s still showing up, playing along—even if she’s terrible at it.”

y/n mulled over her sister’s words, her frustration easing slightly. “Maybe. But I just… I want her to see me as more than an obligation. Is that too much to ask?”

Liz smiled softly. “No, it’s not. But you’re going to have to be patient. Someone like her probably isn’t used to letting people in. And if anyone can melt her icy exterior, it’s you.”

y/n groaned, flopping back onto the couch. “Why do I have to be the one to do all the work?”

Liz laughed, standing. “Because you’re the sunbeam in this partnership, darling. Now, get some rest. Tomorrow’s another day to dazzle her with your charm.”

y/n watched her sister leave, feeling both comforted and slightly annoyed by her words. As much as Liz’s teasing irked her, y/n knew she was right. If she wanted this to work, she’d have to keep trying—no matter how stubborn Jimin was.

-----

The grand studio was filled with the soft scent of oil paints and the warm glow of afternoon sunlight streaming through tall windows. An ornate chaise lounge sat at the center, draped in silk, where y/n perched with an easy grace.

Across from her stood Jimin, stiff as a board, her posture rigid and unyielding.

“Lady Yu,” the artist began nervously, glancing between the two, “could you perhaps… relax a little? Maybe lean toward Her Highness? You’re supposed to look like you’re in love, after all.”

Jimin’s jaw tightened, her gaze fixed ahead. “This is as relaxed as I get.”

y/n sighed, giving the artist an apologetic smile. “Don’t worry, she’s always like this. Stiff as a sword.”

Jimin’s eyes flickered to her briefly, a flash of irritation sparking behind them. “I’m right here, you know.”

y/n grinned. “Oh, I know. Hard to miss someone radiating so much… enthusiasm.”

“Your Highness,” Jimin replied coolly, “if you want to waste your energy teasing me, that’s your prerogative. But I’d prefer if we just got this over with.”

The artist cleared his throat, nervously adjusting his palette. “Perhaps if Lady Yu placed her hand on Her Highness’s shoulder?”

y/n brightened. “Oh, yes, let’s do that! Come on, Jimin, you can manage one little touch, can’t you?”

Jimin hesitated, her expression unreadable. After a long pause, she stepped forward and placed her hand lightly on y/n’s shoulder, her movements calculated and distant.

y/n glanced up at her, frowning. “You’re not going to break me, you know. You could at least try to look comfortable.”

Jimin’s lips twitched—just barely—but her voice remained steady. “I wasn’t aware comfort was a requirement for royal duties.”

y/n rolled her eyes but leaned into the touch anyway, her sunny demeanor unshaken. “Fine. Be a statue, then. I’ll carry this entire portrait myself.”

The artist began his work, his brush strokes filling the silence between them. As the minutes passed, y/n’s gaze wandered to Jimin’s hand on her shoulder. It wasn’t as cold as she expected—it was steady, grounding even.

“Why do you have to be like this?” y/n asked suddenly, her voice softer than before.

Jimin blinked, caught off guard. “Like what?”

“Like… this,” y/n gestured vaguely toward her. “All cold and untouchable. It’s exhausting.”

Jimin hesitated, her fingers twitching slightly on y/n’s shoulder. “I’m doing what’s expected of me. That’s all.”

y/n sighed, turning her head to meet Jimin’s gaze. “Maybe what’s expected isn’t always what’s right.”

For a moment, something flickered in Jimin’s eyes—doubt, perhaps, or something softer. But it vanished as quickly as it came.

“Your Highness,” Jimin said quietly, her voice steady but lacking its usual edge, “not everyone can be as carefree as you.”

y/n tilted her head, studying her. “Maybe you should try it sometime. You might like it.”

The artist looked up, startled. “Ah, perfect! That’s the look I was waiting for!”

Both women snapped their attention back to him, their moment broken. y/n smiled slightly, while Jimin quickly dropped her hand and stepped back, her cool mask slipping back into place.

-----

The royal garden was in full bloom, a kaleidoscope of colors stretching as far as the eye could see. y/n loved this place—its beauty, its serenity. It was where she went to clear her mind after moments like the awkward portrait session with Jimin.

As she wandered along the cobblestone paths, humming softly to herself, she stopped to admire a patch of roses. Lost in thought, she didn’t notice the unfamiliar footsteps approaching until it was too late.

“Princess y/n,” a low, unfamiliar voice interrupted her reverie.

y/n turned, her pleasant smile faltering slightly as she saw a young nobleman striding toward her. He was handsome, confident, and radiated the kind of charm that usually made her parents beam with approval.

“Lord Minho,” y/n greeted politely, masking her unease. She remembered meeting him at the engagement dinner, though he’d been stationed far from her at the table.

“Forgive me for approaching unannounced,” he said, his tone smooth, “but I couldn’t resist the chance to speak with you alone. You’re even lovelier in the sunlight.”

y/n’s smile tightened. “That’s very kind of you, my lord. But I was just about to—”

“Stay a while,” he interrupted, stepping closer. “Surely your betrothed wouldn’t mind you sharing a moment with an admirer?”

y/n’s patience wavered. “My betrothed might have something to say about that.”

“Would I?”

The cool, clipped tone sent a shiver down y/n’s spine. She turned to see Jimin standing a short distance away, her arms crossed and her expression as sharp as a blade.

Lord Minho straightened, his confidence faltering for the first time. “Lady Yu, I didn’t realize you were here.”

“Clearly,” Jimin replied, striding forward with measured precision. She stopped beside y/n, her presence commanding. “The princess is quite busy. I’m sure you understand.”

y/n glanced at Jimin, a mix of surprise and relief flooding her.

Lord Minho hesitated but bowed slightly. “Of course. I’ll take my leave.”

As he retreated, Jimin’s gaze lingered on him until he disappeared from view. Then, she turned to y/n, her expression unreadable.

“Are you all right?” Jimin asked, her voice softer than y/n expected.

The princess blinked, caught off guard by the question. “I… yes, I’m fine. Thank you.”

Jimin nodded, her posture relaxing just a fraction. “You shouldn’t wander alone. People like him are drawn to power—and you’re an easy target.”

y/n tilted her head, a teasing smile forming. “Are you worried about me?”

Jimin’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t look away. “It’s my job to be.”

y/n studied the older girl for a moment, warmth blooming in her chest despite Jimin’s cold tone. “Well, whether it’s your job or not… thank you, Jimin.”

Jimin didn’t reply, but her gaze lingered on y/n for a heartbeat longer before she stepped back, falling into her usual guarded stance.

As they walked back toward the palace, y/n couldn’t help but notice the slight shift in Jimin’s demeanor—a crack in her icy facade that made her feel just a little closer to her enigmatic betrothed.

-----

The royal dining hall was as grand as ever, with crystal chandeliers casting a warm glow over the long table. y/n and Jimin sat side by side, joined by a few courtiers and y/n’s ever-curious sister, Liz.

Dinner was uneventful until Liz leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “So, Jimin, have you and y/n planned anything for your honeymoon yet?”

y/n choked on her wine, quickly setting the glass down. “Liz!”

Jimin didn’t even flinch. She calmly dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin before replying, “We haven’t discussed it. I imagine it will be a standard arrangement.”

“Standard?” y/n asked, raising an eyebrow. “You make it sound like a business trip.”

“Isn’t that what this marriage is?” Jimin replied coolly, not even glancing her way.

Liz’s smile faltered slightly, but y/n wasn’t one to let tension sit for long. “Well, if it’s a business trip, I demand first-class accommodations. I refuse to settle for anything less.”

Jimin finally looked at her, her expression as neutral as ever. “You’ll have whatever arrangements are suitable for a princess.”

y/n narrowed her eyes, leaning closer. “You know, Jimin, you could at least pretend to enjoy my company. It wouldn’t kill you.”

“Let’s not test that theory,” Jimin replied, her tone clipped.

Liz tried to stifle a laugh behind her napkin, but y/n wasn’t done. “You’re impossible, you know that?” she said, leaning closer still, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “But don’t worry—I’m patient. I’ll break through that ice eventually.”

Jimin’s eyes flickered, a flash of something unidentifiable crossing her face. For a moment, y/n thought she might snap back, but instead, Jimin straightened and said, “Good luck with that, Your Highness.”

The conversation shifted as Liz and the courtiers steered the topic elsewhere, but y/n couldn’t help stealing glances at Jimin. Despite the older woman’s composed exterior, y/n caught the subtle clench of her jaw and the faint pink tinge to her ears.

Later that evening, y/n found herself wandering the hallways of the palace, her frustration bubbling over. She turned a corner and nearly ran straight into Jimin, who was heading back to her quarters.

“Jimin!” y/n exclaimed, taking a step back.

Jimin immediately stepped aside, bowing her head slightly. “Your Highness.”

y/n crossed her arms, determined not to let her go so easily. “Why are you like this?”

Jimin blinked, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

“Like this,” y/n repeated, gesturing vaguely toward her. “Cold, distant, acting like being near me is some kind of punishment. I get it—you didn’t choose this marriage. Neither did I! But we’re stuck with it, so why not make the best of it?”

Jimin hesitated, her usual composure wavering for a split second. “I’m fulfilling my duty, Princess. That’s all there is to it.”

y/n stepped closer, her voice softening. “But that’s not all there is to it, is it? You’re not a robot, Jimin. You feel things—you just won’t let yourself show it.”

For a moment, Jimin said nothing, her eyes locked on y/n’s. Then, she stepped back, her expression hardening again. “Good night, Your Highness.”

She turned and walked away, leaving y/n standing alone in the dimly lit hallway, her heart pounding with frustration—and something else she couldn’t quite name.

-----

It was late afternoon, and y/n found herself in the library, where she’d tracked Jimin down after spotting her heading inside. y/n had been determined to spend more time with her aloof betrothed, hoping that persistence would eventually chip away at Jimin’s icy walls.

“Jimin,” y/n said brightly, stepping into the quiet room. “I was thinking we could take a ride through the woods tomorrow. It’s been ages since I’ve been horseback riding, and I hear you’re quite skilled.”

Jimin, seated at one of the tables, barely looked up from the book she was reading. “I’ll have to decline, Princess. My schedule is already full.”

y/n rolled her eyes, walking over to the table. “Oh, come on. You can’t tell me there’s nothing you can shift around. It’ll be fun!”

Jimin closed her book with a quiet snap, finally meeting y/n’s gaze. Her expression was impassive, but her words carried a sharp edge. “Why do you keep doing this?”

y/n blinked, taken aback. “Doing what?”

“This,” Jimin said, gesturing vaguely. “Trying to force something that isn’t there. We’re not friends, y/n. We’re not lovers. We’re a political arrangement, nothing more. So stop trying to make it something it’s not.”

The words hit y/n like a slap. For a moment, she could only stare at Jimin, the older girl’s cold demeanor cutting deeper than ever before.

“I see,” y/n said softly, her voice trembling despite her best efforts. “Well, thank you for clearing that up.”

She turned and walked away before Jimin could see the tears welling up in her eyes.

-----

For the next few days, y/n kept her distance. She attended meals, meetings, and events with Jimin as expected, but she no longer went out of her way to engage with her. Her sunny demeanor dimmed, replaced by a polite but distant professionalism that mirrored Jimin’s own.

At first, Jimin didn’t seem to notice—or perhaps she pretended not to. But as the days turned into a week, something shifted.

During a formal dinner with visiting dignitaries, y/n sat beside Jimin but barely acknowledged her. She laughed and chatted with the guests, her charm on full display, but when Jimin made an offhand comment to her, the princess responded with a curt nod and returned her attention to the others.

Liz noticed the change almost immediately. After the dinner, she pulled her sister aside.

“What’s going on?” Liz asked, her voice laced with concern.

“Nothing,” y/n said, forcing a smile. “I’m just… taking Jimin’s advice. Treating this marriage for what it is.”

Liz frowned. “y/n…”

“I’m fine, Liz,” y/n interrupted, her tone firmer than usual. “Really. Don’t worry about me.”

But Liz did worry—and so, it seemed, did Jimin.

-----

One evening, Jimin found herself pacing in her quarters, an unfamiliar knot of unease twisting in her chest. She’d told herself that y/n’s retreat was a good thing—that it was what she wanted. But now, as she replayed their last real conversation in her mind, a strange guilt began to creep in.

The next morning, she saw y/n in the garden, speaking with a young nobleman who had clearly taken an interest in her. y/n laughed at something he said, her smile radiant but tinged with a faint sadness that Jimin couldn’t ignore.

Jimin’s hand tightened into a fist at her side.

“Jealous, are we?” Liz’s voice startled her.

Jimin turned to find y/n’s sister standing a few feet away, arms crossed and a knowing smirk on her face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jimin replied coolly.

“Sure you don’t,” Liz said, stepping closer. “But let me give you a piece of advice, Jimin. If you keep pushing her away, you’re going to lose her—and not just as your wife.”

With that, Liz walked away, leaving Jimin alone with her thoughts—and the uncomfortable realization that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t want to lose y/n after all.

-----

The shift in y/n’s demeanor was subtle, but it was enough to unsettle Jimin. The princess still fulfilled her royal duties with grace, smiling politely during public appearances and chatting animatedly with others, but when it came to Jimin, the warmth that once radiated from her was gone.

She no longer sought Jimin out for conversation or tried to include her in her plans. In fact, y/n seemed to avoid her whenever possible, her interactions reduced to formalities.

It was driving Jimin mad.

One afternoon, Jimin spotted y/n in the palace gardens, sitting on a bench with a sketchpad balanced on her lap. She was alone, the usual crowd of admirers conspicuously absent.

Jimin hesitated for a moment before approaching.

“Good afternoon, Princess,” she said, her voice carefully measured.

y/n looked up, her expression unreadable. “Good afternoon, Jimin.”

Jimin cleared her throat. “I didn’t know you sketched.”

y/n shrugged, her gaze returning to the page. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

The words stung, but Jimin didn’t let it show. She took a seat on the bench beside the princess, her posture stiff. “May I see?”

y/n hesitated, then turned the sketchpad toward Jimin. The drawing was of a rose bush nearby, its petals rendered with surprising detail.

“It’s beautiful,” Jimin said honestly.

“Thank you,” y/n replied, her tone polite but distant. She pulled the sketchpad back and began to pack up her supplies.

“You’re leaving already?” Jimin asked.

“I have other things to do,” y/n said simply, standing and giving Jimin a small nod. “Enjoy the garden, Jimin.”

As y/n walked away, Jimin felt an unfamiliar pang of frustration—and something deeper.

The next evening, Jimin found y/n in the grand ballroom, practicing a waltz with one of the royal instructors. She stood in the doorway, watching as y/n twirled gracefully across the floor, her laughter filling the air as the instructor made a joking remark.

When the lesson ended and the instructor left, Jimin stepped inside.

“You’re a good dancer,” she said.

y/n turned, her expression neutral. “Thank you.”

Jimin hesitated. “Would you like to dance again?”

y/n raised an eyebrow. “Why? So you can criticize my form?”

Jimin frowned. “I never—”

y/n cut her off. “It doesn’t matter. I’m tired, Jimin. Goodnight.”

She swept past Jimin without another word, leaving the older girl standing alone in the ballroom, her hands clenched into fists.

Later that night, Jimin paced in her quarters, replaying the events of the past week in her mind. She couldn’t deny it any longer—she missed y/n’s warmth, her laughter, her relentless optimism.

The next morning, she made her way to the kitchens, where she quietly requested a tray of y/n’s favorite breakfast items.

When the tray was delivered to y/n’s chambers, the princess opened the door to find Jimin standing there, her expression unusually hesitant.

“What’s this?” y/n asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“A peace offering,” Jimin said, her voice soft.

y/n folded her arms. “Why would you think we’re at war?”

Jimin sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I’ve been… difficult. And I know I’ve hurt you. I just… I wanted to apologize.”

y/n regarded her for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, she stepped aside, motioning for Jimin to enter.

“Come in,” she said.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

-----

The following days saw Jimin trying, in her own awkward way, to bridge the gap between her and y/n. It wasn’t dramatic or grand, but in small, quiet gestures that spoke louder than words.

One morning, y/n walked into the dining hall to find Jimin already there, holding a cup of tea.

“For you,” Jimin said, extending the cup.

The younger girl blinked, caught off guard. “You made me tea?”

Jimin nodded. “I remembered you said you liked it with a hint of honey.”

y/n hesitated for a moment before accepting the cup. She sipped it, hiding the flicker of surprise when it turned out to be exactly how she liked it. “Thank you,” she said, her tone guarded.

Jimin gave her a small nod before returning to her seat, leaving y/n to wonder how long she’d been paying attention.

Despite Jimin’s efforts, her cold demeanor still slipped through at times.

During a formal event, y/n was her usual charming self, mingling effortlessly with the guests. Jimin, standing at her side, remained stoic and distant.

When one of the guests, a visiting duke, complimented y/n on her beauty and grace, Jimin didn’t react. But when the duke asked y/n for a dance, Jimin’s jaw tightened imperceptibly.

y/n, sensing the tension, agreed to the dance with a dazzling smile. She glided across the floor, her laughter echoing as the duke made her spin.

Jimin watched from the sidelines, her expression unreadable. But when y/n returned, she couldn’t resist a sharp comment.

“You seemed to enjoy yourself,” Jimin said, her voice cool.

y/n raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Jimin muttered, turning away.

y/n stared after her, a mix of frustration and confusion bubbling in her chest. Still as charming as ever…

That night, Jimin found herself pacing outside y/n’s chambers, debating whether to knock. Finally, she mustered the courage and raised her hand, rapping gently on the door.

“Come in,” the princess called.

Jimin stepped inside to find the younger girl sitting by the fireplace, a book in her lap. She looked up, her expression guarded.

“Can I help you?” y/n asked.

Jimin shifted awkwardly. “I wanted to apologize. For earlier.”

y/n set her book aside, studying Jimin carefully. “Why are you trying so hard, Jimin?”

Jimin froze, caught off guard by the question.

y/n continued, her voice tinged with vulnerability. “For weeks, you made it clear that you wanted nothing to do with me. And now you’re bringing me tea and apologizing for things you wouldn’t have thought twice about before. What changed?”

Jimin hesitated, her usual composure cracking under y/n’s piercing gaze. Finally, she spoke, her voice quiet.

“You did.”

y/n’s breath caught, her heart pounding in her chest. She opened her mouth to respond, but Jimin shook her head.

“Goodnight, Princess,” Jimin said, her voice soft as she turned and left the room, leaving y/n staring after her, a swirl of emotions in her chest.

-----

The days that followed were a dance of unspoken words and cautious steps. y/n maintained her composure, determined not to let Jimin’s sudden change of heart sway her so easily.

But Jimin didn’t stop.

She would linger longer during shared meals, initiating small conversations. She would occasionally stand by y/n’s side during public engagements, offering quiet, steady support. And she began leaving little notes for y/n—short, thoughtful messages that appeared in unexpected places:

“You did well today.”

“Your sketch was beautiful.”

“The garden looks brighter with you in it.”

y/n found herself collecting these notes, tucking them away in a small box in her chambers. She told herself it was out of habit, not sentimentality.

One evening, y/n was in the library, browsing through the shelves. She reached for a book just as another hand brushed against hers.

She looked up to find Jimin standing beside her.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Jimin said, stepping back slightly.

“You didn’t,” y/n replied, her tone even. She pulled the book from the shelf and held it to her chest. “Did you need something?”

Jimin hesitated, her eyes scanning y/n’s face. “I… just wanted to talk.”

y/n raised an eyebrow. “About what?”

“About us,” Jimin said, her voice steady but quiet.

y/n froze, her fingers tightening on the book. “There’s nothing to talk about. We both know what this is—a marriage of convenience, nothing more.”

Jimin flinched at the words but didn’t back down. “It doesn’t have to be.”

y/n’s heart skipped a beat, but she forced a bitter laugh. “And now you care? After weeks of making me feel like a stranger in my own marriage?”

Jimin’s expression crumbled slightly. “I was wrong. I see that now. But I’m trying, y/n. Can’t you see that?”

y/n shook her head, stepping back. “Trying isn’t enough, Jimin. Not anymore.”

She turned and left the library, leaving Jimin standing there, her outstretched hand falling to her side.

Later that night, y/n sat by her window, the book unopened in her lap. She stared at the small box of notes on her desk, her chest tight.

She wanted to believe Jimin. She wanted to forgive her, to let herself hope again. But the hurt was still too fresh.

On the other side of the palace, Jimin sat alone in her quarters, replaying y/n’s words over and over in her mind.

She clenched her fists, a rare flicker of vulnerability crossing her face. “I’ll prove it to you, my princess,” she whispered to herself.

-----

The morning air was crisp as y/n strolled through the palace gardens, her mind preoccupied. She paused by the fountain, the soft sound of water soothing her restless thoughts.

“Good morning.”

y/n turned to find Jimin standing a few steps away, holding something behind her back.

“Good morning,” the princess replied cautiously.

Without a word, Jimin stepped closer and revealed a small, neatly wrapped bundle. y/n’s brow furrowed as she took it. “What’s this?”

“Open it,” Jimin said simply.

Inside was a sketchbook, the cover embossed with intricate floral patterns. y/n’s breath hitched.

“I noticed your old one was nearly full,” Jimin explained, her voice quiet but steady. “I thought you might need a new one.”

y/n stared at the gift, her emotions warring within her. “You’ve been watching me that closely?”

Jimin’s cheeks flushed slightly, but she nodded. “I always have.”

For a moment, y/n didn’t know what to say. Finally, she managed, “Thank you. It’s… thoughtful.”

Jimin offered a small smile. “You’re welcome.”

Later that evening, y/n was in her chambers, flipping through the pages of her old sketchbook. She traced her fingers over a half-finished drawing of the palace gardens, a memory of a quiet morning spent in solitude.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

“Come in,” she called.

To her surprise, Jimin entered, carrying two steaming cups of tea.

“I thought you might want some company,” Jimin said, her voice tentative.

y/n blinked, her defenses faltering. “You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” Jimin interrupted, setting the cups down on the small table by the fireplace.

For a moment, they sat in silence, the warmth of the tea and the crackling fire filling the room.

“You keep trying so hard,” y/n finally said, her voice soft. “Why?”

Jimin stared into her cup, choosing her words carefully. “Because I care. And because I know I’ve hurt you.”

y/n’s heart ached at the raw honesty in Jimin’s voice. She wanted to believe her, to trust that this wasn’t just another fleeting attempt to make amends.

The next day, y/n found herself wandering back to the library, her new sketchbook in hand. She settled by the large window overlooking the gardens, the light perfect for drawing.

She didn’t notice Jimin enter until she felt a presence beside her.

“May I sit?” Jimin asked.

The princess hesitated before nodding.

For the next hour, they sat in companionable silence. y/n sketched while Jimin read, the unspoken tension between them slowly easing.

As y/n finished a drawing of a rose, she glanced at Jimin out of the corner of her eye. The older girl seemed so calm, so focused, and yet there was a softness in her expression that the younger girl hadn’t seen before.

“Jimin,” y/n said softly.

Jimin looked up, her dark eyes meeting y/n’s.

“Thank you,” y/n said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jimin didn’t ask what for. She simply nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

-----

The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the palace gardens. y/n found herself there again, this time with her sketchbook open on her lap. The page was blank, though—her thoughts too restless to focus.

She heard the familiar sound of boots crunching on the gravel and didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

Jimin approached, a hesitant smile on her face. “You’re here again.”

y/n shrugged, her voice softer than usual. “The garden’s quiet. Helps me think.”

Jimin stood there for a moment before taking a seat on the bench beside her, careful to leave just enough space to not crowd her.

y/n let the silence linger, but the weight of the past weeks pressed heavily on her chest. Finally, she spoke. “Why did it take you so long?”

Jimin blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“To see me,” y/n clarified, her voice trembling slightly. “To see us. You’ve been so cold, so distant, and I—” She broke off, shaking her head. “Never mind.”

“No,” Jimin said quickly, leaning forward. “Please. Go on.”

y/n hesitated, her walls wavering, before she let out a shaky breath. “I gave you everything, Jimin. I tried so hard to make this work, to build something out of this arrangement. And you…” She trailed off, her voice breaking.

Jimin’s chest tightened as she watched y/n fight back tears. “I know,” she said quietly. “I know I hurt you. I was scared, y/n. Scared of losing myself in something I didn’t choose.”

y/n looked at her, her eyes searching Jimin’s face. “And now?”

Jimin held her gaze, her voice steady. “Now I know that losing you would be worse.”

The words hung in the air, raw and unfiltered. y/n felt her heart skip, the weight of her defenses finally crumbling.

Jimin reached out hesitantly, her hand brushing against y/n’s. When the princess didn’t pull away, Jimin gently took her hand, lacing their fingers together.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin said, her voice barely above a whisper. “For everything. For being too proud, too stubborn to see what was right in front of me.”

y/n’s lips trembled as she whispered back, “You really hurt me.”

“I know,” Jimin said, her grip tightening slightly. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, the princess let herself smile—a small, tentative smile, but one filled with hope.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she teased lightly, her voice still thick with emotion.

Jimin’s lips quirked into the faintest of smiles. “This one, I intend to keep.”

That night, for the first time since their marriage, y/n didn’t retreat to her chambers alone. Instead, she found herself sitting with Jimin in the drawing room, sharing stories and laughter late into the night.

The tension that had once defined their relationship was replaced by something new—something fragile but undeniably real.

As y/n watched Jimin laugh at one of her jokes, she felt her heart swell. Maybe, just maybe, they could build something beautiful together after all.

-----

It started slowly.

y/n and Jimin made an unspoken agreement to focus on friendship. They spent time together—not out of obligation, but because they genuinely enjoyed each other’s company.

At first, it was small things: sharing meals, taking walks in the gardens, or sitting by the fire late at night talking about everything and nothing. y/n’s bright personality began to coax more smiles out of Jimin, and Jimin’s quiet attentiveness made the princess feel seen in a way she hadn’t expected.

One afternoon, Jimin caught the princess humming to herself while sketching under the shade of a large oak tree. The sound was soft, almost imperceptible, but it made Jimin pause in her tracks.

“You sing too?” Jimin asked, startling y/n.

The princess looked up, her cheeks pink. “Only when no one’s listening.”

Jimin smirked as she took a seat beside her. “Too late for that.”

y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “Don’t expect a performance anytime soon.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Jimin teased, her tone playful.

They fell into easy conversation after that, laughter punctuating their words. Jimin found herself watching y/n closely, her heart tugging unexpectedly at the way the sunlight caught in her hair and the way her laughter sounded like music.

It wasn’t long before y/n began noticing Jimin in a different light as well. One evening, as they sparred together in the palace training grounds—a habit Jimin insisted on teaching y/n for self-defense—the princess caught herself staring.

Jimin’s movements were fluid and precise, her focus unshakable. When she turned to y/n, breathless and flushed, the princess felt her heart skip a beat.

“You’re distracted,” Jimin said, raising an eyebrow.

y/n blinked, shaking herself out of her daze. “Just… admiring your technique.”

Jimin smirked, clearly amused but choosing not to push further. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”

y/n tried her best, but her thoughts lingered long after the session ended.

One night, they sat together in the library, the soft glow of the fireplace casting warm shadows around the room. y/n had fallen asleep against Jimin’s shoulder, her sketchbook resting on her lap.

Jimin stayed perfectly still, not wanting to disturb her. She looked down at y/n’s peaceful expression, her heart swelling with an unfamiliar warmth.

Without thinking, Jimin gently brushed a strand of hair from y/n’s face. The touch lingered, and for the first time, Jimin allowed herself to admit what she’d been feeling for weeks now.

She was falling in love with her princess.

The princess, meanwhile, was experiencing her own epiphany. Every small gesture from Jimin—her thoughtfulness, her subtle humor, her quiet strength—made y/n’s heart ache in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

One morning, as they walked through the palace gardens, y/n blurted out, “Do you ever think about what this could’ve been if we weren’t forced into it?”

Jimin stopped in her tracks, her expression unreadable. “What do you mean?”

y/n turned to her, her voice quieter now. “I mean… if we’d met under different circumstances. Do you think we still would’ve found our way to each other?”

Jimin’s gaze softened, her heart pounding in her chest. “I think,” she said carefully, “that I would’ve been drawn to you no matter the circumstances.”

y/n’s breath hitched, her eyes searching Jimin’s for any hint of hesitation. There was none.

The moment hung between them, heavy with unspoken emotion.

Finally, y/n took a step closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “Jimin…”

Jimin didn’t wait for her to finish. She leaned down, her lips brushing against y/n’s in the gentlest of kisses.

It was tentative at first, a question rather than an answer. But when y/n’s hand came up to rest against Jimin’s cheek, the kiss deepened, their hearts aligning in a way neither of them had expected.

When they finally pulled apart, y/n’s smile was brighter than the sun. “So much for just being friends,” she teased softly.

Jimin chuckled, her own smile rare but genuine. “I think we’ve always been more than that.”

The days after their kiss felt like the calm after a storm—quiet but charged with the promise of something new. y/n and Jimin found themselves navigating this shift in their relationship with cautious excitement, their once-tense dynamic now replaced by something tender and unspoken.

One evening, as they stood side by side in the grand ballroom during a royal banquet, y/n caught Jimin sneaking glances at her.

“Something on your mind, Lady Yu?” y/n teased softly, her voice low enough to not draw attention.

Jimin smirked, leaning in just enough for her words to be heard. “Just admiring my princess.”

y/n’s cheeks flushed, but she masked it with a bright smile as she turned to greet a nobleman approaching them.

Their newfound closeness didn’t go unnoticed by the king and queen. Liz, of course, had been quick to pick up on it, but she kept her observations to herself—though not without an occasional knowing smile aimed at her younger sister.

Later that night, after the banquet had ended, Jimin and y/n retreated to the palace gardens. The moon was high, its silver light casting a serene glow over the flowers.

y/n sat on the edge of the fountain, her hands tracing patterns on the surface of the water. Jimin stood nearby, her arms crossed as she watched y/n with quiet admiration.

“Do you think we can really make this work?” y/n asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Jimin stepped closer, her voice firm. “I know we can.”

y/n looked up at her, her expression vulnerable. “What if it’s not enough? What if people expect more from us than we can give?”

Jimin knelt before her, taking y/n’s hands in her own. “Let them expect what they want. We’ll figure it out together—our way.”

y/n smiled, her heart swelling with a mixture of hope and love. “You always know what to say.”

Jimin chuckled. “Not always. But when it comes to you, I’ll keep trying until I get it right.”

-----

Their relationship wasn’t perfect—there were still challenges ahead, expectations to navigate, and their own fears to confront. But for the first time since their marriage, y/n and Jimin felt like they were truly partners.

As they walked back to their chambers that night, their hands brushing but not quite holding, y/n glanced at Jimin and said, “You know, this might actually work.”

Jimin smiled, her voice full of quiet determination. “It already is.”

They reached the threshold of their shared quarters, pausing for a moment before stepping inside. y/n turned to Jimin, her gaze soft but unwavering. “Goodnight, Jimin.”

Jimin leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to y/n’s forehead. “Goodnight, my princess.”

As the door closed behind them, both women felt a sense of peace they hadn’t known before—a peace that came from knowing they were no longer facing the world alone.

The palace bustled with life as y/n and Jimin prepared to host their first event as a couple—a celebration of unity that symbolized not only their marriage but the bond they had worked so hard to build.

y/n stood by Jimin’s side, her smile radiant, her heart full. As they greeted guests together, their fingers brushed ever so slightly—a silent promise of everything they had yet to face and everything they would face together.

Because in the end, their story wasn’t about an arranged marriage or a forced partnership. It was about finding love in the most unexpected of places—and choosing each other every step of the way.

_____________________

Bonus:

The royal dining hall was quiet, with just the royal family gathered for breakfast. y/n sat next to Jimin, their usual spots now seemingly closer than before. Liz, ever the keen observer, was already smirking as she watched the subtle glances between her sister and the stoic guard.

“So,” Liz began, her voice carrying an unmistakable teasing edge, “do you two hold hands under the table now, or are we still keeping things proper?”

y/n nearly choked on her tea, while Jimin’s face remained composed, though the slight tightening of her jaw gave her away.

“Liz!” y/n hissed, glaring at her sister.

The king chuckled, folding his napkin neatly. “Careful, Elizabeth. Tease too much, and y/n might decide to ban you from breakfast altogether.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, Father,” Liz replied innocently, though her grin betrayed her intentions. “It’s just so fascinating, watching my dear little sister transform into a blushing maiden every time Jimin so much as looks her way.”

y/n’s cheeks turned crimson, and she shot her sister a deadly glare. “I do not blush!”

Jimin, ever the diplomat, cleared her throat. “Princess Liz, perhaps your attention would be better spent elsewhere?”

Liz raised an eyebrow, clearly delighted that she’d managed to draw Jimin into the exchange. “Oh, I’m plenty entertained right here, thank you.” She leaned back in her chair, resting her chin on her hand. “You know, I had a feeling about the two of you. The ‘I’d rather die than smile’ Jimin and the ‘sunshine incarnate’ y/n? It’s like something out of a romantic ballad.”

The queen, who had been quietly sipping her tea, finally spoke up, her tone light. “Elizabeth, dear, leave them be. They’re navigating enough without your meddling.”

y/n shot her mother a grateful look, but Liz wasn’t done.

“Fine, fine,” Liz said, raising her hands in mock surrender. “But Jimin, just so you know—if you ever hurt her, you’ll have to deal with me.”

Jimin straightened in her chair, meeting Liz’s gaze with unwavering seriousness. “I would never hurt my princess.”

The sincerity in Jimin’s voice silenced Liz for a moment, and y/n felt her heart swell.

Liz finally broke into a warm smile, leaning forward. “Good answer. You’ll do just fine, Lady Yu.”

The king and queen exchanged amused glances as Liz finally moved on to her breakfast, leaving y/n and Jimin to share a quiet, meaningful look.

Under the table, y/n’s hand brushed against Jimin’s, a small but bold gesture. Jimin didn’t pull away.

____________________

A/N: I never expected this to be so long, but oh well! Hope you guys enjoy it!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

compos mentis 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, chronic health issues, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After a long court case, your mother stays attached to her lawyer, bringing even more contention into your life.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: this decrepit pervert is back.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You’re restless. What’s worse, is you have no energy. You never really do. Living is the most exhausting thing you’ve ever done. 

You lean in the window sill, half hunched as you stare out at the suburban street. It’s a nice neighbourhood. Your mother lives in a condo, on one of the highest floors. You hate it. This place isn’t so bad. It’d be nice if it was just you. 

That last thought makes you sad. You don’t know that you’ll ever be able to be alone. You hate being such a burden. What you hate most, is feeling like you’re on a leash. Sometimes literally as your oxygen tube keeps you bound to the tank. 

All your existence, there’s been something wrong with you. In high school, it got so much worse. You didn’t even realise until your mother pointed it out. Then the appointments doubled, the tests too, and it never stopped. Will it ever? 

You’re trapped in a holding pattern. If living is so difficult, should you even try? That’s a bad thought but you can’t help it. You see your mom, you see Andy, and they don’t need all these medicines or this thing to breathe for them. They have lived full lives, they have jobs and a home. You have nothing. 

You turn away from the window. The tall trees and peaked rooftops are no longer so beautiful. They’re just another reminder of everything you don’t and will never have. 

A knock at the door startles you. You cross the room and inch it open. You peer out, disappointed to find Andy again. How long is your mom going to sleep? 

“Hey, sweetheart, I was thinking you might want to come with me. It's pretty quiet around here,” he says. 

“Come with... where?” You rasp. 

“I was going to go to the pharmacy and get your script filled, like your mom said,” he explains and holds up the doctor’s paper. “Found it in her purse.” 

“Oh, uh...” you hesitate. You don’t know what to do. That he’s even asking makes you feel obligated. “Sure, I... okay.” 

“Take your time, I’ll warm the car up,” he assures you. “Anything I can help with?” 

“No, sir, I’ll grab my bag.” 

You shut the door before he can respond. You pause and feel bad. You hope that didn’t seem intentional. You go and grab your belt bag. You check that everything is in it, then drag your tank back to the door. 

You come out and the hall is empty. You go around to the bathroom and rinse off your face. You don’t have a toothbrush so you use your finger to spread some paste around your teeth and rinse your mouth. You’re overly aware of your day-old outfit. You do what you can for your hair then resign yourself to being the same mess you always are. 

You take the stairs slowly. One at a time as you prevent the wheels of the tank from thumping. Andy’s house is so nice, you don’t want to ruin it. You get to the front door and pull on your jacket. You put on your sneakers and awkwardly angle out the front door. 

The SUV whirs in the driveway. Before you can get to the first step, Andy is there. He helps with the tank and sets it on the flat ground. You quickly take the handle and thank him. 

“You alright?” He asks. You wish he wouldn’t be so worried. Your mother doesn’t ever ask, only if it’s for show. 

“Fine,” you assure him. 

You roll the tank past him and he calls after you as you get to the SUV. “Hey, you don’t gotta sit in the back.” 

“Uh, right,” you say. 

You go around to the passenger door and he opens it for you. Once again, he lifts the tank. Before you can react, he does the same to you. You lurch up into the seat and wriggle until he lets you go. He doesn’t seem to notice your discomfort. 

You sit straight and steady the tank between your knees. He shuts the door and you get the seatbelt clicked in. As he climbs in the other side, you take out your vaseline and smear it under your nose. It’s particularly raw this morning. 

“Shoot, is that from the AC? I can turn it down.” 

“No, it’s... okay,” you stare through the windshield. You want to get this done and over with. Your brows furrow at the thought of your mom waking up to the empty house. 

“What’s the matter?” He asks. 

“Nothing,” you insist. 

“You look worried,” he says. 

“I... my mom. She’s in rough shape.” 

“Hungover,” he clucks, “it’s a good thing you don’t take after her with that.” 

You nod, not sure what to say. He does up his seatbelt and checks the mirrors. He shifts and backs out of the driveway. 

“Feel free to put on some music. I don’t think you want to listen to my oldies,” he chuckles. 

“It’s okay,” you hug yourself with one arm, your other hand on the tank. 

The silence buzzes in your ears. It’s too late now to change your mind. Besides, you’re so indecisive about your music. You wouldn’t exactly brag about your taste either. 

The drive stretches on as you huddle into the door, distracting yourself with the passing light poles, houses, and so on. You don’t know this area. It’s not anywhere near your usual pharmacy. You often wait in the car when you do go with your mom. 

He pulls up along the curb and park. It’s a nice quaint street in the neighbourhood. There’s a park on the corner and an organic store on the opposite side. You peek out at the local pharmacy’s moniker, hand-painted unlike glowing banner of the department store where your mom usually goes. 

“Should be able to get this filled,” he says as he shuts off the engine. 

You just nod and hum. He gets out quickly, easily. You envy that. You can’t do anything easily. He comes around as you push the door open. He once more brings down your tank but you’re certain to climb out on your own. You nearly stagger as you do. 

You wheel out of the way as he closes the door. You look around at the other pedestrians. A woman with a stroller, a family just across the way babbling in glee. You turn away before the scene can make you morose. 

Andy leads you to the pharmacy door and pulls it open with a chime. He lets you in first. There’s only a few aisles inside, the pharmacist’s counter is at the back, another till near the front where they sell chocolates and candy. 

You linger until Andy points you down the center row. You go ahead of him and stop before the long counter. He unfolds the prescription as he greats the man behind it boldly. Good mornings and niceties you struggle to get right. 

“Hm, we have these on hand but it’ll be a wait. Been a busy morning,” the pharmacist explains. 

“That’s fine, we can keep ourselves busy.” Andy says. You squirm. You can? Waiting that long will only add to the tension that makes your chest even tighter. 

You back up as he turns around. He looks around for a moment, as if he thinks you wondered off, then smiles at you. “There’s a cafe across the street, how about it?” 

“I don’t... drink coffee,” you say. 

“I know, sweetheart, I remember,” he gently strokes your shoulder, “they have tea, too. Or smoothies. You must be hungry too.” 

“I... if you want to, I guess...” you shrug. 

“You know, I’m not your mom. I won’t say no,” he intones. “You don’t have to be so nervous.” 

“I know, I... I’m sorry.” 

“And you don’t need to be sorry,” he counters. 

You almost apologise again, only to fill your cheeks with air and nod. You feel like you should be though. Like everything you do is a disappointment. 

You go back down the middle aisle. Andy reaches past you to hold the door again. You come out and narrowly avoid a collision. You wait for the family of three to pass by before Andy nudges you to the curb. He takes your free hand as he tugs you with him, jaywalking through the lazy traffic. 

The effort is enough to make your head spin. You get your wheels over the other curb and sway. Andy doesn’t let go. He takes you past the patio area of the cafe and swings back the door before he releases you, pointing you within. 

The smell of coffee, the grind of a machine, and the chatter of diners greets you. You wait behind the two teenage girls at the counter as Andy comes up next to you. He stands close but you assume it’s because it’s such a tight space. 

“Do you want to find somewhere to sit?” He wonders. 

“No, I’m okay,” you say. 

“Sure, uh, so what do you want?” 

You look up at the hand-written menu. You might get a tea after all. 

“The brioche egg sandwich is one of my favourites,” he says. 

“You come here... a lot?” You wonder. 

“Sure. I like to run in the mornings. I’ll grab a coffee on my cool down. And weekends I’ll have breakfast. Your mom’s usually still asleep if she’s around,” he tuts. 

“Right, uh... that sounds fine. Brioche.” 

The girls go to the further end of the counter and Andy waves you forward. The barista greets him by name. She’s very pretty. She has amber coloured braids with a zigzag pattern and cute freckles over her cheeks. You want to ask how she did her hair like that but you don’t want to be rude. 

“Andy, how are you?” She chirps in recognition. 

“Good, we were just walking through the neighbourhood,” he says,  You adjust the tube under your nose self-consciously. The barista is gorgeous and reminds you of everything you’re not. 

“Oh, is this your fiancee?” She asks. “She’s finally come around.” 

Andy chuckles and you blanch. He doesn’t offer a protest and neither do you. You wait for him to correct her. He doesn’t. 

“Sweetheart, what did you want to drink?” He looks at you and you nearly choke. 

“Can I have the pomegranate tea, please?” Even your voice sounds ugly. 

“Sure, what size, hon?” 

“Small,” you croak out. 

“Small pomegrante, and your usual?” She asks Andy. 

“Yep, and two of the brioche breakfast sandwiches. Oh, and something sweet for dessert. Those cherry tarts look delicious,” he points to the display.” 

“Got it, anything else?” She taps the till screen. 

“That’s it,” he slips out his card and waits. He selects a tip amount before he taps, the machine beeping in acceptance. You spy the total right before it disappears. Oh, that’s expensive. 

“I’ll bring it to you, Andy,” she smiles brightly, “you two enjoy.” 

Andy takes your hand again before you can react. He brings you to the table and you sit across from him, right by the window. You feel like you’re on display. You hate it. 

You push the tube into your nose as you think then trail your hand down the length. You stare off into the distance. You don’t know, it feels weird. It feels like he’s doing too much. Like maybe he feels bad for you. 

“Whatcha thinking about?” He interrupts your trance. 

You flinch and look at him, then avert your gaze to the table. 

“You didn’t...” you begin then shake your head. 

“What?” He prompts. 

“Nothing.” 

“Go on, sweetie, you don’t have to be shy with me. You can say whatever you need,” he leans forward as he crosses his arms over the table, “you know, your mom told me you’ve never really had a father figure. I’m here to help, to support you.” 

You nod and pick at your dry lip then stop yourself, hiding your hands under the table. “You-- that woman... she thought I—that we—you didn’t say no.” 

“Oh, I didn’t want to embarrass her,” he laughs. “It’s funny, don’t you think?” 

“Yeah...” you nod at your lap. “It is really... funny. No one would really want to marry me.” 

You cover your mouth as the thought slips out. You shake your head. Why did you say it? 

“Huh? Sweetheart?” He leans in even closer, “you don’t think that’s true, do you?” 

You shrug and peel your hand away, chewing on your sleeve as you slump low in your seat. 

“You’re a nice girl. Pretty too.” 

“I’m not,” you murmur into your cuff. “You don’t have to lie.” 

“Well who says you’re not?” He urges. You shake your head again. 

“Your mother?” He suggests. You shake your head harder. She would be livid if you told him that she did. He clicks his tongue, “well, however it is, don’t listen to them.” He reaches across to you, “hey, sweetheart, look at me.” You obey, trembling in humiliation, “you are very pretty.” 

[yoredoesmore]

Can I request for Soshiro Hoshina and if possible Soichiro Hoshina (I know he barely showed up yet in the manga but I love him so much- dw you can decide to not make for him) I just want headcanons or like a fix of them being in an arrange marriage- you can choose if they were at first enemies to lovers or childhood friends,can you also make gn reader a badass and for a bit of angst they almost died during a mission- like if you know that scene from spiderman where Gwen fell and Peter couldn't save her- but just have this end in fluff 🏃🏻‍♀️💨 I'm sorry if this request is complicated sorry- YOU CAN IGNORE THIS IF YOU'D LIKE HAVE A NICE DAYYYY💕💕✨✨✨✨✨

a/n: I take so much time making these requests but I hoped you stayed patient with me > <

Till Death Do Us Part | Hoshina Soshiro

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x Gn!Reader

genre: /romance/slowburn/enemies to lovers/angst/fluff

summary: your mother may have the power to give you and your entire life away to secure your family's survival but only death itself could ever actually make you fall in love with that man..

wc: 2,4k

a/n: I don't know what this format of writing is called but I hope it isn't too confusing > <

Enjoy!

An Arranged Marriage – When those words first slipped from your mother's lips, you wanted to scream. Your heart pulsed with unease, anger even but you knew all too well that this was for the best. If there was one thing your mother held dear in life, it was the clan. Its prestige and well-being were of great importance to her and the only way to keep those secured was to give you away to a good family.

A childhood long lost – Your clan's reputation has become as bad as it could be. Your father passed away, your relatives were at each other's throats, holding onto old grudges and most traditions have been lost in time and ignorance. Only a fool would take someone as tained as you in, thus you wondered what clan would be idiotic enough to have you carry their name.

“A childhood friend?” You scoffed, the mockery in your voice as evident as the stars on the dark firmament. Not knowing who was stupid enough to have you join their family kept you up all night, therefore you decided to confront your mother. Turns out that she too had her own demons that kept her from getting any sleep.

“I never said friend.” The woman took a long drag from her Kiseru, relishing in the flavor of the tabaco before letting go of it all in one long puff.

“His father is an old acquaintance of mine. If you remember his child is of no importance, all that matters is that they are in our depths.”

The Farewell Before Death – The day of your wedding was as uneventful as one could imagine. You did not get to see your husband until moments before the ceremony. Most of your time on that day was spent in the botanical garden next to the shrine, a beautiful place where all your thoughts roamed free. You enjoyed the peace and quiet, until they were broken by an unfamiliar voice.

“The ceremony is about to start.” A man you have never seen before stood before you, dressed in what seemed like some sort of uniform.

“Can I not enjoy my last moments of peace without any disturbances?”

“Well, I was just-”

“About to leave?” Your smile sat gentle on your face, yet it reeked of toxins similar to the ones the flowers were producing. Without raising another word the man took his leave, allowing you to mourn your last seconds as a free individual in silence.

It wasn't your intention to be rude, but you were not in the mood to entertain guests. Thus, you sat there in silence until your mother came looking for you.

The Groom – As you kneeled in front of the altar, you yet had to register in your mind that this moment sealed your future forever. Other's would call you foolishly selfless but you have always found yourself putting the need of those you were close with above yours.

You didn't get to see the groom until he kneeled by your side. It would have been a lie if you said that you weren't at least the tiniest bit curious, so you allowed yourself a small peak.

“Can't tell me to leave now.”

That voice..

The man from before sat to your left, a sheepish smile lingered on his lips. Finally, the fact that you were to be married and bound to him to eternity registered in your mind.

Oil and Water – After a week of the ceremony passed, the situation became clear for all to see– this marriage was going to be difficult. Your mother had claimed that you knew each other from the past but neither of you were able to recall any interactions. But that's besides the point. Your opinions, thoughts and approaches to a situation– they could not vary any more from another than they already did. Like oil and water, the two of you stood on opposing sites, unable to find common ground.

And it didn't help that you had infiltrated his workplace.

It was one of his “demands” that his partner would join his journey– it was either that or make yourself useful in the estate. You scoffed when you heard your options and immediately declared that you would become one of the greatest defense force officers Japan has ever seen.

And you were right.

Unwanted Attention – Only two weeks after your enlistment, you already became the talk of the base. Everybody wanted to know who this new cadet was and how they were so skilled without having attended any training courses. The focus on your person only increased when people found out that your last name was Hoshina.

The attention was quite bothersome, to the point where you couldn't go anywhere without having someone ask you about your relationship with the Vice Captain. But to your surprise, everything died down one day. After asking around, you found out that Soshiro mildly threatened to personally deal with those who continued to bother you about your personal life.

After that, people only came to your for training advice or other work related things. Your skills were admirable after all.

Before he passed, your father used to train you. He was once a defense force officer himself, stationed in Kyoto but when he suffered a life changing injury during battle he was forced to retire. But still being full of passion and spirit he made the decision to pass all his knowledge down to his child.

A common ground – Although your marriage was blunt and flavorless (with little to no interactions outside of work or even at home) both you and Soshiro seemed to get along just fine during missions. He would give you commands, which you followed precisely. And whenever you came up with a way to defeat a Kaiju, Soshiro would execute your plan perfectly. Your performance on the battlefield earned you acknowledgement and respect from your peers and even Ashiro. You were greeted with smiles and bows, a different vibe from what you were used to back at your home.

Time Brings Progress – The more time passed, the more you found yourself interacting and being with Soshiro. You still didn't see him as your husband but he was no longer a mere stranger either. In fact, he has grown so comfortable around you that he started to tease you like he did with his squad. He would throw in a couple sneaky remarks every now and then and you would give him the same amount of sass back. It was a fresh breath of air in between the usual blunt atmosphere.

What Couples Do– You noticed a subtle difference in Soshiro's presence over time. He showed a more tender nature when he was alone with you, a soft side you had never seen him embrace before. It was small stuff like him making sure that you were included in conversations or checking in on you when you were working overtime. Even at home, he made the time to leave little notes behind for you when he had to work on your day off or asking you if you needed anything before going to bed.

When you addressed his behavior during dinner, all he did was chuckle.

“Ain't that what couples do?” He simply smiled, placing a neatly cut piece of steak on your plate. He sounded so carefree and calm, different from his usual cheerful demeanor.

“But ya warmed up to me as well.” He suddenly said, looking straight into your eyes.

A Sacrifice – It was an attack like you have never seen before. After the night of the dinner, you mustered up the strength to ask your husband if he wanted to go out for the evening– since it was your first day off together, but unfortunately you never made it to the restaurant. A Daikaiju of a fortitude level of 8.1 showed up and all troops were called to the scene.

You were fighting alongside Soshiro, your guns reaching the monster where his blades were unable to cut, yet the situation continued to stay dire. The snowfall was hindering everyone's vision and the troops seemed conflicted about the outcome of the fight– but then you saw an opening.

A weak spot that has been off radar due to the heavy snow blocking your view of the monster. You immediately alarmed Ashiro and told her of your plan. But for it to succeed a distraction was needed.

That is when you looked at Soshiro. It took him a moment to realize what you were about to do but it was already too late. You began to set up one of the big guns the force had brought along and aimed it at the beast.

Soshiro's hands pulled and pushed on your shoulder, trying to stop you from the reckless action you were about to perform but you stayed persistent.

“I can't let the less experienced cadets handle this, Soshiro. I promise you, I got this.”

Your voice reeked of determination but deep down concern sat in your chest. The weapon was only strong enough to mildly injure the Daikaiju and hopefully draw its attention towards the high rise you stood on. But the final strike had to be executed by the Captain and it had to be perfect, since you only had one shot.

Soshiro trusted your skills but he did not want to take any risks. This was your first huge mission and if he were to lose you here, he would never forgive himself. Especially now that your relationship was taking such a good turn..

“Ya have only been here for two weeks, Y/n. Don't try to act cool.” He sighed as he suddenly pulled you into a hug. It was the first time he had shown you physical intimacy since your wedding but it felt oddly comforting. His hand pressed onto your back a little bit too tightly but you saw it as a sign of concern.

Soshiro had to be physically pulled away by the other members when the time came.

Where the Snow Falls – You waited patiently, anxiety pulling on your skin as the cold winter night claimed your consciousness. But when the moment came for you to deliver the shot you did not falter. A clean beam aimed right at the Daikaiju's back, and just as predicted it came charging towards you. As it's tail came swinging for the building, your hands reached into your pockets, grazing over the wedding ring inside the fabric.

At exactly that moment, Ashiro aimed her weapon at the weak spot you had mentioned before, a thin layer of skin right at the sole of the Daikaiju's feet. The Monster came crashing down in an instant but instead of falling backwards due to the lack of balance, the Daikaiju came crashing down onto the building you stood on.

“Y/n!” The fear in Soshiro's voice echoed through the entire street.

The sudden impact of the monster with the building left you no time to react. You fell off the edge in an attempt to escape the masses of its body, caught in a deadly free fall. The world around you came to a sudden halt as your brain tried to come up with a way to escape this situation by going through memories of a similar essence– and to your surprise it found soemthing.

Fragments of your childhood, that day, featurin a snowy day like this one. You were outside of your estate, playing with a child whose face you did not remember. The snow fell heavy on the land, yet the boy you were with played recklessly without a care in the world. That's when it happened. The snow under his feet began to shift and dissappear, threatening to take the boy with it but in the last second you reached out for him and grabbed him by your hand.

“Y/n!” He had yelled out back then as you pulled him back to safety.

“Soshiro!” You screamed out as the ground came closer and closer.

Your husband came charging towards your body in inhumane speed, the safety of his suit long disabled. He wasn't going to reach you in time it seemed, thus you simply closed your eyes and held onto your ring.

But to your surprise the impact with the ground never came. Instead you felt something pull on your back, yanking you bank up before gently swaying you around in the air. A parachute?

Your heart beat so intensely, you feared it was going to spill out of your chest. As you landed on the ground, your knees immediately gave in, causing you to slump down into the rubble.

The other's wasted no time and came to your aid but Soshiro was the first to reach you. His arms embraced you in a desperate hug.

“You put the parachute on my back..” Your voice was a mere whisper as you pulled the man even closer into your body, filled with shock and trauma.

“Yes, because my partner is as selfless as they come.” He sighed, rubbing your back in comforting motions.

Soshiro refused to let go of you, even after the medic team arrived. After that day he stayed by your side, like a shadow, and refused to leave it ever since.

The Beginning of Something Beautiful – To think that it was a near death experience all those years ago that led to your marriage and another near death experience that strengthened your bond was borderline amusing.

You and your husband have become inseparable, finally taking your relationship status to heart. It did not happen immediately but over time you found yourself embracing his love more and more and of course you gave him some warmth back in return. It was the beginning of something beautiful.

“Y/n, Soshiro, are you guys down to drink with us tonight?” Kafka asked, one of his arms wrapping around your shoulders in an excited manner.

“Can't do. Soshiro and I rented a bunch of movies for tonight for our little marathon.” Your husband immediately came to your side as he heard his name slip from your lips, a proud smile on my face.

“Let's hope we don't fall asleep like last time.” You both laughed and got ready to leave the base.

You wondered if Soshiro remembered what happened all those years ago. That you saved his life and now he has saved yours. Perhaps this was all destined to happen and the heavy snow was there to set it all in motion. The two of you were indeed only able to be separated by death itself.

a/n: I have no idea if this story makes sense. I re-read it so many times and changed and added so many things it's loose in my head. I'm not super satisfied so pls give feedback if there's something I can improve :<

[teddypickrwritings]

Hi friend! I read your 'A Rare Moment of Weakness' writing and I thought it was really well written and I really liked it. I was wondering if I could request the same thing but with Joseph, Aesop, and Eli? Only if you have time ofc :)

A Rare Moment of Weakness (Part 2) - Identity V x Reader

A/N: I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I hope you’re able to enjoy it still. Thank you for requesting! I’ll definitely do more parts of these in the future!

Joseph (Photographer)

For someone that was clearly sentimental about his past, Joseph never openly talked about it. A melancholy smile would appear on his face for a brief moment whenever he remembered something particular, but it would be gone before anyone could comment on it.

Even around you, he was like that…until one evening where you caught him looking visibly depressed. The photographer was sitting on an armchair, cheek resting on his hand, a glass of wine in the other.

“Joseph?” you tentatively called out to him.

He immediately straightened his posture when he heard your voice. “Ah, (Y/N). Don’t sneak up on me like that,” he scolded gently. “It’s late, my dear. Why are you up?”

You sat in the adjacent chair. “Why are you?” you countered.

A hint of a smile appeared on Joseph’s face, but he turned away. “I’m just thinking,” he said vaguely.

Even though Joseph was a private person, you knew what he was really thinking about. He had allowed himself to be vulnerable to you once before in a strangely similar scene.

So you did what you did before. You reached across and placed your warm hand on top of his. When your eyes met, you smiled at him.

Joseph’s face softened. It was funny how he seemed a little awkward and unsure of what to do next for a moment. But then he intertwined his hand with yours and was rewarded with a comforting squeeze. “Perhaps I’ve been thinking too much,” he admitted.

“I’m all ears if you’d like to talk about it,” you offered. “Or if not…well, I’ll be here anyway.”

Joseph smiled, and lifted your hand to give it a gentle kiss of appreciation.

Aesop (Embalmer)

Aesop was always very particular about his appearance. But it wasn’t in a vain way; he was just very adamant about his clothes being clean and ironed properly. He was the same way about his workspace and his tools.

However, his calm disposition was broken when messes were involved. And it was no different when he practically barged into his own room, wax stuck to his clothes and hair, looking absolutely horrified. You had been quietly waiting for him to get back from his match until that point. It was painfully obvious who he went up against. Once the initial shock and your heartbeat settled, you quickly helped clean off the wax to the best of your ability.

“Thank you,” Aesop said quietly and courteously once you were done. His gray eyes widened in surprise as you procured a fresh set of clothes for him before he could make another move. “Ah, uh…thank you again…”

“I’ll be waiting right here,” you reminded him gently, and nodded your head towards his washroom. “You should wash that wax out of your hair.”

You were certain that Aesop had a faint smile underneath his mask from the way his eyes slightly crinkled. And once he was done showering, that smile grew as he came out in freshly dressed clothes and saw that you had fallen asleep waiting for him. How beautiful you looked, peaceful and still like that…

Eli (Seer)

Brooke Rose happily nuzzled against your hand as you pet her soft feathers. You had just given her a treat; her and Eli had done a wonderful job in today’s matches.

Eli watched with a content smile. But you noticed in your peripheral vision that his shoulders were slightly curled forward. And as he took off his blindfold, you noticed that his movements were very sluggish.

“Are you okay?” you asked, looking over into his ethereal blue eyes.

He seemed a bit surprised that you acknowledged him. Then his cheeks went red from the embarrassment of being caught staring. “Yes, I’m okay…why?”

Brooke Rose ruffled her feathers in disbelief. You stood up and gestured him to sit down on the armchair. Slightly confused, he obeyed. A small gasp left his lips as you started gently massaging his shoulders.

“Don’t think that I don’t notice how exhausted you usually are after matches,” you said softly. His muscles were stiff from overuse. “You tire out so quickly. Your decoding has even gotten slower every time you protect someone…”

Eli either didn’t have the energy to retaliate, or he was already slipping into the hands—your hands—of relaxation. He closed his eyes as Brooke Rose settled comfortably on his arm.

You took the opportunity to lean down and press a kiss on top of his head. Although you couldn’t quite see his expression, you knew that it had turned into a bashful smile.

[lady-divine-writes]

"Taking the Plunge" (Rated M)

On their first day in Vail, on the last-minute vacation of a lifetime, Blaine has come up with a surprise for his husband that's equal parts horrifying and confusing. (1461 words)

Read on AO3.

"Tell me why..."

"Ain't nothin' but a heartache..."

"Stop that," Kurt snaps.

"Oh, uh..." Blaine bites his lips together, stifling a giggle. But more importantly, stifling the next verse of the song. "Sorry."

Kurt breathes in, cold air shooting straight to his lungs and freezing them solid. 'This is it,' he thinks, shivering so hard his body vibrates, scooting him a foot to the left against his will. 'This is how I die. I become a human popsicle. Maybe they can preserve me, revive me in the future. God...' He glances up at the dreary sky, his view obscured by his bangs, holding their height remarkably well against the blistering breeze. 'I hope my hair keeps up.'

When they had arrived in Vail and checked in, Kurt immediately threw on his swimsuit at Blaine's request. Personally, he'd been excited to get the debauchery started! It had been too long since they'd taken a proper vacation. Yes, they live alone together and can have sex freely on every piece of furniture they own. But there was something about taking their carnal escapades to a different locale that got Kurt's blood pumping.

What can he say? He loves to travel.

After Kurt suited up, Blaine tossed him his parka and boots, then ushered his husband past the cozy lodge, with its heated mineral spring pools and five-star restaurant, to this foreboding body of black, ice-filled water. They'd stopped at the banks, joining a swimsuit-clad group already gathered and intent on jumping in. Kurt thought Blaine had dragged him there for a laugh - watch the tourists freeze their asses off before they themselves retreated to the soothing waters inside.

It horrified Kurt to no end that Blaine looked eager to take the plunge, too.

When they had planned this vacation together on their sofa in Manhattan, Blaine made no mention of participating in the Arctic Dip. But that must have been his plan all along.

Surprise!

Kurt didn't think he could find a place colder than Ohio in December.

Staring into the water in front of him, ice bobbing at the surface, he knows he's about to be proven wrong.

Everything from his nuts to his nose shrivels at the thought.

"Explain to me again," Kurt starts over, choosing his words carefully so as not to stumble upon the lyrics of another catchy boy-band earworm, "why we're about to do this."

Blaine claps his hands together, rubbing them hard to warm them, and beams ear to ear. "Because it's exhilarating!"

"Your definition of exhilarating and my definition of exhilarating are vastly different then." Kurt pulls his parka tighter around him, attempting to trap whatever heat he has left underneath. It pains him to do it, though. He is certain he has pulled most of the seams loose by now.

A group of older, less dressed gentlemen stroll by as if it's a sunny spring day and not 80 degrees below, laughing at their own jokes and nodding at Kurt and Blaine as they pass. Blaine politely adverts his eyes.

"At least we're wearing bathing suits," he kids.

"Speedos. Which you had me pack under false pretenses."

"No! No false pretenses!" Blaine pleads, hoping his plans haven't lost him access to his husband in a Speedo for the rest of their trip. "They're for the jacuzzi in our suite. I swear."

"Which we haven't even seen yet! You dragged us straight here!"

"We want to take the plunge with everyone else! Before the ice melts!"

"Do we, though?" Kurt whines.

"Yes! This is the highlight of this resort! That's why I chose it! I've been looking forward to this!"

Kurt scowls. "O-kay. If you want to do this, fine. But why can't I wait on the sidelines with a sherry and a smile?"

"Because it's a bucket list item. And we do bucket list stuff together."

"But it's on your bucket list. Not mine. Nowhere on my bucket list does it say freeze my balls off!"

"I was hoping you'd do this with me as a favor? Be supportive of my eccentricities?"

Kurt tilts his head at Blaine, carefully examining his suddenly sullen spouse. "Why do you sound embarrassed about that?"

"Because it's..." Blaine chews his lower lip, trying to avoid the inevitable reveal. But he can't. He can't put this confession off any longer. "It's a... mid-life... bucket list item."

Kurt turns fully towards his husband, eyebrow arcing sharply. "You have your bucket list divided into age groups?"

"More like milestones."

"And you can't just dye your hair blond and buy a Ferrari like everyone else?"

"You mean like my dad? And my brother? Who got it into their heads that married life was holding them back, so they messed up the best things that ever happened to them?"

"I... guess," Kurt says, softening even though every outward inch of him has become rock solid.

"Yeah, well at least they waited a few decades, right? As opposed to me, who started in high school." Blaine chuckles bitterly. "Coop always said I was an overachiever."

Kurt sighs, releasing his death grip on his cramping elbows, and takes his husband's hands. "Honey, where is this coming from?"

"I don't know," Blaine murmurs. It's a knee-jerk answer but it's also a lie. He does know. They both do. Or, at least, Kurt can guess. It was either the invitation they received to Cooper's second wedding to his second wife, taking place in June (only a month after his second divorce from wife number one finalizes... the wife Blaine loves and adores like a sister) or the heads-up from Blaine's mom that his dad, who came back a year ago to joy and revelry all around, is eloping with his secretary.

His 20-year-old secretary.

Blaine's mom broke the news to Blaine over the phone at three in the morning, hysterically crying and sloppy drunk.

But it could also be the out-of-the-blue Facebook friend request Blaine got from Eli, their favorite lighthouse. Blaine had blocked the man on everything he could think of, so to see his name and picture pop up (real picture this time) had thrown Blaine for a loop.

He almost deleted his account.

Either way, that was a ton of emotional baggage for Blaine to deal with all at once. It's ninety percent of the reason why they packed their bags last minute and ran off to Vail. Blaine couldn't face spending the holidays with his family this year.

He wouldn't even know whose house to go to.

Kurt was fine with it. His family had headed off on another Country Music Christmas Cruise. Sure he missed his dad, his stepmother, and his stepbrother.

But Kurt had never declined an invitation so fast.

He had nothing against country music. He did have an issue with being trapped in the middle of the ocean with twenty-five Bluegrass bands and nothing to eat but BBQ for two weeks. Kurt and his father were going to have to have a serious conversation about his cholesterol when the man came back to terra firma.

Blaine shivers for the first time since they've been out here, and Kurt wonders if he's finally feeling the bite in the wind, or if it's from something else.

Something frozen deep inside, so cold that ice water is actually warm enough to melt it.

Kurt looks down at the still water, abyssal black and straight out of a horror flick, then back at his husband, eyes downcast to the snow, lips turning a subtle shade of blue. Kurt knows Blaine is rethinking this decision, and normally Kurt would encourage that. But this time doing what Blaine wants, what he needs, is more important than Kurt's comfort.

And possibly his health.

"Okay, okay. I'll do this with you," Kurt says, abandoning the escape plan he had been brewing in his brain - the one where he takes a step back as his husband leaps forward and books it for the lodge - and embraces the numbing cold. "Because you're my husband, and I love you."

Blaine peeks up at his husband and smiles, a small ray of sunshine in this oppressive chill. "Thank you, Kurt." He considers adding, 'You won't regret this,' after, but he has to be real.

Kurt regrets it already.

"But whatever happens," Kurt says, unzipping his jacket quickly like ripping off a bandaid, "you are responsible for warming me up, whatever that entails, and for however long it takes. Deal?"

Blaine's shy, apologetic smile transforms.

It becomes wolfish.

Through chattering teeth and hard-pinched lips, Kurt's flirtatious tone managed to squeeze its way back into his voice.

Perhaps Blaine hasn't lost access to his husband in a Speedo after all.

Now he has to work to keep it that way.

"Deal."

[quickdeaths]

"I'm aware that it doesn't matter to Future Foundation, Miss Nevermind, but it matters to me." Shinobu let out a soft sigh. "I don't wish to make myself out to be your protector, or someone to whom you owe anything." That wasn't how she thought, and it was important to impress that upon Sonia. Shinobu had her vanity and her arrogance still, in some places, but to be so self-aggrandizing at this point in her life was unlike her. "But, if the rest of my organization is indifferent, and the world you're soon to inhabit is against you, then, I'd rather you have at least one person on your side."

Her hands were holding hers softly, and what Shinobu wanted to do was slip one of her own from Sonia's grasp, and gently cradle the side of her face. This was the woman who was so resigned to everything in her future? The woman who believed that she deserved everything awful that happened to her? The woman who looked in the mirror and saw in it nothing good reflected back? Were it not so serious a moment, Shinobu might have found it humorous enough to laugh, in their own fragile way.

No, Sonia Nevermind had always been a good person, and Shinobu had known that from the night they'd first met. What other explanation was there for her attempting to extract such a promise? They were friends, perhaps, but Shinobu knew they couldn't be equals, not so long as she was a Future Foundation agent. If Sonia resented her for her freedom and position, Shinobu could never have blamed her. But instead, she sat beside her, urging her to reach out and take happiness for herself. It was earnest and genuine. The least Shinobu could give her in return was the same genuine sentiment, even if there were truths she couldn't speak.

Softly, she squeezed Sonia's hand as she once again looked at her, gazing into Sonia's cool blue eyes without blinking. Her own eyes were intense, Shinobu was sure, as they always were, but she tried to keep her expression as gentle as she could to properly convey her feelings. "You're kind to care so much about my well-being, and my future. Thank you, Miss Nevermind. Truly." It was a gift for another person to be worried about her, to consider her feelings and her desires, even when they might have conflicted with Sonia's own.

The truth was that there was nothing else she wanted. There was no career that suited them, and no home to return to. The family estate could have been destroyed, and were it not, then her pond was rotten with the corpses of her pets and the winds had scattered the rock garden sand such that it would take days to fix. So many of her friends were long-dead, and both her mentor and her girlfriend had been killed recently too. There was nothing back there for her except an empty apartment too large for one lonely woman.

Not that she'd say as much, of course. She'd told Sonia of her life before, but right now, there was no reason to make her feel guilty due to the state of things. Instead, they just nodded. "Alright, Miss Nevermind. I promise." Still looking at her, they gave her hands another small squeeze. "In the event that I decide that I no longer with to be with you in Novoselic, I'll put in my request to leave immediately." That day would not come - Shinobu was sure of it. It was a promise easy to make with that in mind, secure in the knowledge that the thing she would want most in this world would be to be at Sonia's side.

Only then did Shinobu break eye contact, gently bringing her hand away from Sonia's, and standing up from her seat. "But, it's been a long night, Miss Nevermind, and I imagine we might both be up a while longer with all the excitement that's gone on." The movie was still running, but even if it was quite cute, Shinobu had since stopped paying close attention. She supposed that was only natural when Sonia was being rather earnest and charming beside her, instead. "Can I get you something to drink, or, can I make you something to eat that's a little more substantial than popcorn?"

Shinobu insisted she'd thought it through, but Sonia wasn't convinced. She'd considered the logic of it, yes, and providing some comfort to her, a queen of a nation who didn't deserve it. But that was all, and it wasn't the whole picture as far as Sonia was concerned. "Well, I am not going to doubt your physical and mental capabilities for the job, that is not my place to say," She began carefully. She wasn't wrong: it wasn't the place of any of the former Remnants to speak out against the Future Foundation. Barring Hajime who, no matter the member of the Future Foundation he faced, could find fault in their line of thinking. Probably why Naegi alone handled him, Sonia supposed.

Still, it only felt strange to be asked such a thing because, at the end of the day, she wouldn't have a say in it. She'd be assigned someone to fulfill their duties first and foremost to the Future Foundation, not to her, and be the only person from the Japanese headquarters who would dare make the journey to Novoselic. A place where, if she understood the coverage from the papers, had begun to thoroughly renounce their interest in Japanese culture in favor of European traditions. Ones that didn't glorify the former Princess, now Queen Sonia, but European traditions nonetheless. Most of the Japanese expats who had survived The Tragedy in Novoselic faced constant hostility from the native citizens. Even those who simply looked Japanese but weren't were subject to discrimination, according to reports.

Shinobu couldn't look at her. Just as well, she was difficult to look at after The Tragedy, and maybe she was beginning to realize just how dire a future was being sentenced to Novoselic with a known mass murderer. And if she couldn't say it, it would be up to Sonia to do so. With a deep sigh, in the most diplomatic fashion she could.

"I do not think it will matter much to the Future Foundation if the person sent to accompany me is sympathetic or not. As long as I stay alive and fulfill my country's and the Future Foundation's conditions," Sonia admitted. That was truly too optimistic for the likes of the organization, considering Sonia's happiness and interests in it all. "I just don't know if you've really considered the extent of what you're suggesting, Yaguchi. I meant what I said, I certainly don't object to your company and do like having you around, but you must consider the long-term implications."

"For all that you have suffered, you are a hero in this Tragedy. Japan, and the majority of the world, acknowledge you with the utmost praise and respect. You helped save millions of lives and, in that, you have a whole life ahead of you now."

Sonia paused for a sip of now-lukewarm tea. It was the most she'd said in quite some time, and after the birthing of the kittens she was feeling fatigued herself (though nothing compared to the mother cat, of course). "You can do anything you want: have a career, even something you hadn't considered whilst at Hope's Peak. Have a wife. Have a family. The world has changed, Yaguchi, and you can have whatever life you wish. You don't have to be condemned to a cold, crumbling castle for the rest of your life the way I must, married to one of the last surviving aristocrats that my country and the Future Foundation have selected for me so I may keep the royal lineage intact. I just..."

She set down her mug, wondering the best way to phrase it. With a small shake of her head, she reached over to take both of Yaguchi's hands in her own: if the other woman wouldn't look at her, she'd ensure she'd pay attention to her words regardless. "I just do not want you to sentence yourself to a small, sheltered life, one that is always in danger because of me. I will not object to you accompanying me but the moment you wish to leave, you must put in a transfer and leave Novoselic. I would never hold it against you. I want you to live, Yaguchi, and have a life you make for yourself. All of us former remnants, we will never have that. And we do not wish that fate on anyone. I certainly don't wish that for you, a prison sentence of an existence. Will you promise me that? That you will leave when you want to go somewhere else?"

[1000sunnygo]

I did write the summary on the wiki lol - happy to see that people use it! On a separate topic, and if you're interested, I remembered another bonus story released for Jump Victory Carnival 2021 about Luffy and Law bug hunting for beetles (imgur /a/Txt6ayl). It hasn't been included in any of the volumes (like the rest of the JVC stories)

LMAOAOA

the image quality got significantly worse after lettering, here's the raw link (credits: @walrsu)

THIS NERD NAMED 4 BEETLES IN 2 PAGES (the 'welcome ⬆️' signboard HAHA)

+ Luffy's face in this panel 😭 I love him being a little shit with Law

This made my day, thank you again!

[meringuejellyfish]

was thinking about book covers today, heres a few i like off the top of my head

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Kafka

[lavandulawrites]

Yandere Genshin Men Eating Out Their Darling

Characters: Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Capitano, Childe, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Dottore, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Kinich, Lyney, Neuvillette, Ororon, Pantalone, Pierro, Sethos, Thoma, Tighnari, Venti, Wanderer/ Scaramouche, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli (all separate)

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

I decided to do ca. 100-200 words each character to keep it nice and simple:) (some are over 200 tho). This took me longer than expected haha. My requests are open, but read my rules before requesting <3

Masterlist

Warnings: NSFW 18+, cunilingus, all sexual acts are consensual, female reader, obsession, possessiveness, some of the yandere tendencies are more subtle than others, future imprisonment, face sitting, jealousy, fingering, Stockholm syndrome, manipulation, forced marriage, reader is indifferent to some of the yandere behaviour in some of the parts, translation at the end, power imbalance

Word count: 4779

Albedo

The unforgiving wind of the icy mountain howled against the treetops. The fireplace was lit given you much needed warmth. It had been 2 months since you had moved up into the cozy cabin high up in the mountain with the famed researcher.

His hand scissored skilfully into your cunt before his tongue joined them. The cold left you quickly as his tongue dove in deeper into your fluttering cunt.

You were glad you had taken upon the offer of the blond haired man and followed him up to Dragonspine. Here you had been happier than ever before and you believed him when he said that others would just do you harm.

Alhaitham

The scribe was a calculated and well composed man. So who would have thought he would lose his composure so easily when it came to you? Your presence was enough to make his seemingly cold manners crack and turn into poorly hidden admiration. Alhaitham did anything he could to keep you as shielded from the outside world as possible.

His muscular arms kept your legs open as he devoured you with uncharacteristic vigour. He sneered like a starved animal as he left mark after mark on your thighs. A guttural sneered left his lips as he dove his face further into the warmth of your cunt. You cooed at him lovingly as shivers of pleasure ran through your body.

Ayato

Ayato had always had his way with words. He had always had the upper hand no matter the circumstances. He was a beautiful man and he reminded you of a siren. His lilac eyes enchanted you to no extent. His touches intoxicating, leaving you wanting more. He was a dangerous man, that much you knew, but it didn’t stop you for seeking him out time after time. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but he loved you, oh so much and he kept you safe.

His bed was soft as and comforting. The doors open and welcoming in the breeze from the sea. The moon was high and clouds covered some of its white body.

The pale blue haired man was busy with burying his face between your legs were he ate you out with precision. His eyes never leaving yours as he showed you what it meant being the wife of the head of the Yashiro Commission. You found yourself melting in his touches and any thought about your parents disappeared without a trace. The smug smirk of the ethereal man was out of your understanding as you lost yourself to pleasure.

Baizhu

The Bubu Pharmacy was empty save from the two of you. The lights were dimmed and the window closed to keep the cold autumn night air out. Candles were lit to give you some much needed light. Baizhu’s trusted companion, the snake that often accompanied him, was in another room far away.

Orange reptile like eyes gazed down on you gently as he moved slowly down your body and to where you wanted him the most. His light touches teasing and making you hunger for more.

He parted your thighs skilfully as he kissed up your slit before he entered your hole with his tongue. The very same tongue which had driven your family and loved ones away with elegantly spun lies and well hidden treats.

Now the only thing you needed was him and his gentle, loving touches.

Capitano

The 1st Harbinger was a big and righteous man. He was stronger than any human that walked the earth and he never broke his word. He had first intimidated you with his size (and he still did at times), but you learned that underneath his helmet was a charming man. His charm was difficult to pinpoint as it was different from most, but it had greatly intrigued you.

His large hands held your legs firmly as they rested in his shoulders. He was kneeling at the foot of the bed with his head buried in your soaking cunt. His helmet was carefully placed on the dresser. Capitano’s long black hair fell against his shoulders as he lapped up your juices. His dark midnight blue eyes stared up at you, making you shiver under their intensity.

“You are so beautiful [Name]” his voice a groan.

You let yourself get lost in the pleasure and you couldn’t care less about the havoc he had caused when a rowdy man had accidentally bumped into you.

Childe

Blood were still coating the ginger strands of the warrior who had you pressed down on his face. The first thing he had demanded when he got home from yet another business trip, was for you to sit on his face. Who were you to deny your husband?

His grip on you were as intense as the rest of the man. His blue eyes were shut in bliss as he ate you out like it was his last meal. And if he had the choice he would die happily between your thighs as he told you at every given moment.

You didn’t last long with that damned tongue of his and before you knew it, you were clutching the headboard for much needed support. Instead of letting you get off, he simply glanced up at you with big eyes full of love and utter devotion.

As he continued to stare, it became obvious of who the blood in his hair belonged to.

Cyno

The white haired Mahamatra had his gazed locked onto your weeping cunt. His calloused hands ran down your sides till they got hold of your hips. His tongue plunged into you like a starved man and drove moan after moan out of you. He had finally managed to convince you to stay at home in his fine house as he would take care off you. Given his mannerism you could tell he was greatly pleased with himself.

His skill full tongue drove you quickly to your climax and you intertwined your hand in his white locks as he licked up your sweet release.

His red eyes looked up at you lovingly as he continued his previous pace. You were in for a long night.

Dainsleif

Blond hair tickled the sensitive skin of the inside of your thighs. The Khaenri'an’s hands were digging into the flesh of your skin as he lapped at your sweet juices. Dain had told you time after time that you were the only person that relived him of the pain that was caused of the curse that was cast upon him. As following he never let you leave him. You had long since learned that the soothing effect you had on his curse was only a tiny tiny fraction as to why he never let you leave his sight.

His groans and your soft moans were echoing through the empty halls of the ruin. The blond man drove his tongue deeper and you felt you were close. You chest heaved up and down in a rapid motion as you tried to calm down form your release.

Cerulean eyes stared up at you with devotion one normally only found in a worshipper of a god. How ironic. Words feel from his mouth which you had no means to understand, yet you felt the meaning through his unrelenting gaze. “Jeg elsker deg, jeg elsker deg, jeg elsker deg, min kjære [Name].”

Diluc

The soft glow of the fireplace warm against your naked skin. The light from the fire lighting up the muscular chest of the redhead that leaned over you. His lips locked against yours in a passionate kiss. Your tongues danced in a seductive tango which made you ache with need between your legs. Diluc hummed as he noticed your thighs pressing together.

With his head between your thighs he worked you closer and closer towards or orgasm. His movements passionate and filled with love. You ran your hair through his red locks. You were truly happy in the arms of the man who loved you more than life itself. You ignored the words of others. So what is he was overprotective and so what is he didn’t want strangers talking to you? He was only trying to protect you.

Dottore

The Doctor was a talented man when it came to the art of intimacy. It was a rather shocking discovery at first, but you was happy he had showed you his ways in the bedroom.

The threat of being imprisoned forever within the walls is his lavish manor hang low over your head like a guillotine. Despite that you couldn’t care less. Not when he was nestled between your legs and lapped at your cunt with such gentleness and love you almost wept. To awaken such emotions within the second Harbinger was a defeat in itself, one which you treasured greatly.

His groans synchronised with your moans in a symphony of love and lust. It made you curious for the future and uneasy for what he had done to your loved ones.

Gorou

The life of a general was busy and dangerous. His days existed of leading battles and giving out orders. So it was only natural he was extremely touch starved when he returned from war and to you.

When you greeted him in the hallway of their cozy home he almost leaped into your arms. You hugged him tightly, glad he wasn’t hurt. He buried his face in the crotch of your neck. “Oh how I have missed you” his voice a whisper.

Pale hands gripped your thighs in a tight grip. Blunt nails digging into your skin. Your hands held onto the headboard with enough strength so you wouldn’t collapse on the man underneath you. His tongue drilled fast and deep into your drenched cunt. He was eating you out like a wild dog. Your every nerves was haywire.

Your breath hitched as Gorou drove you faster and faster to your climax. The brown haired man beneath you muttered chants of “I love you” against your clit over and over again. He had promised you when you pulled you onto the bed that he would never ever leave you again, and judging by his intense look you believed him.

Heizou

Slim fingers ran down your thighs leaving goosebumps in their wake. Dark red hair brushed against your nose. Light green eyes gazed into your eyes with lust and love. Your lips locked in a soft kiss. He tasted sweet like cherries. Your lips pulled apart and you could feel him smirking.

“You have no idea how much I love you, need you” his sensual voice whispered against your lips. He gave you one last deep kiss before he lowered his head down and kissed trails down to where you needed him the most.

You kissed your inner thigh till he reached your sweet cunt. He kissed it once, twice, before he gave it a good lick. You moaned at his moment.

He snickered teasingly as he pushed his tongue inside your spongy walls. He moaned loudly at your taste.

“Archons, you tasted heavenly” he sighed in between licks. His thumb found your clit which he stroked and rubbed skilfully.

You could feel the knot in your lower abdomen getting closer and closer to snapping. Before you knew it you came all over the beautiful face of the man between your thighs.

In your blissful trance you were completely unaware of the documents on his nightstand that read the reports of your future disappearance.

Itto

The horns of the oni was hard and cool underneath your hold. As you rubbed the base the large oni groaned in pleasure. He had you on his face in a tight hold as he ravaged your cunt with such hunger only an oni could posses. As his tongue swirled over your clit in a slow harsh manner, your dread upon seeing him tear the men who had backed you in an alley, in half slowly disappeared.

Your chest heaved as you tightened your hold on his horn which egged him on further. His movements speed up and it didn’t take long before you saw stars. You slumped forwards, but his strong large hands kept you upright.

“I love you so, so much” he murmured against your thigh.

Kaeya

The blue haired captain had without no doubt murdered the annoying tavern patrons in cold blood. Despite that, you felt safe in his arms as he pleasured your cunt with his slivered tongue. His lone eye glanced up at you with a hooded lid which sent a warm jolt down in your cunt.

He was as skilled with his tongue when it came to pleasuring you as he was at whispering you lies that fuelled your dependence on him.

He held you in a tight embrace as you came down form your high. His honeyed voice whisper sweet nothings into your ears and you felt safe in his arms.

Kaveh

Blond locks tickled your thighs as the architect lapped at your cunt. He had been extremely stressed and panicked when he came home to your shared home. He had admitted that he was afraid of someone better coming to whisk you away. You were the only thing that kept him sane. You had stroked his hair reassuringly and told him you would never leave him. Before you both knew it you had ended up in to sofa, with him nestled between your thighs.

You pulled at his soft locks which earned you a grown which reverberated against your cunt. You threw your head back against the cushion. Kaveh had always put your pleasure before his and he had always had a talented for making you feel better than anyone else could.

With a swirl of your clit and thorough the lapping of his wet muscle you came so heard you saw stars. You thought that he must be a gift sent by the gods beyond the sky as he licked up your excessive juices with loud moans.

He leaned over you as he started lovingly into your eyes. “You are never allowed to leave me, ever” he kissed you passionately. His grip on your shoulders was hard as if he was afraid you would run away.

Kazuha

The white haired samurai had always intrigued you. He was a wise man with a connection to nature you could only hope to fully understand. He was so so kind and gentle towards you, yet you had just witnessed him slashing down a group of drunken sailors who had gotten a little too friendly with you. His snowy haired had been stained red as he pulled you into a tight embrace, relived you were okay. You were shaken up by the sight you had just seen before you and he had kissed your face as he had whispered reassuring words. Every word he utters from his pale lips felt like a warm blanket. They always seemed to calm you.

You had helped him wash his hair and as his hair grew more and more white, his desire for you became more and more visible. You had pulled him into a kiss with led to you being laid out on the soft sheepskin rug in the middle of the bathroom.

His tongue wasn’t only good at uttering poetic words, but it was also extremely skilled in the art of pleasure. He ate you out gentle and sensual with his hands gripping your thighs. Every time the started close do to you being so lost in please, he pushed them open firmly. His red eyes held your gaze through the many orgasms he drew out of you. You had now completely forgotten all about the sounds of Kazuha’s katana slashing through the throats of the sailors.

Kinich

The ancient name bearer was a honest man. He believed in getting straight to the point and he rarely kept secrets. Hence why he told you quite early on after he had realised his feelings, what he felt for you. You had been foolish in believing it was just a normal crush and not an endless abyss of love and obsession which had scared his little dragon companion.

You had invited the hazel eyed young man into your home, without knowing that day would be your last day of freedom. After his visited, he would bring you home with him.

You laid spread out onto your bed with the drakes haired man planted between your legs. His tongue hungrily ate you out and he swallowed as much slick he possible could. You whispered a soft “I love you” which made him completely lose his composure.

Lyney

White doves, flashy card tricks and well thought out magic performances became a part of your daily life after you accepted Lyney’s love. His feline eyes never left your form and his hand was always near you. He sneered passive aggressive threats at everyone who dared getting close to you. It had starting to get exhausting calming down your possessive lover. Luckily you had come up with a solution.

Burying his head into your cunt had surprisingly calming effects on the magician. He moaned at your sweet taste as his pale lilac eyes fell shut. His tongue was as talented as his fingers and brought you to orgasm after orgasm. You had started to wonder if he actually possessed magical powers after he brought you to your fourth orgasm that night.

Unbeknownst to you, was that the cunning magician had purposely lashed out more than normal at the travelling market you two had visited in order to be granted access between your legs. It was a grand feast for him and a pleasurable act for you, so it was a win win for both parties, wouldn’t you agree?

Neuvillette

The dragon had laid you down on the plush bed. Your skin flat against the silk sheets. His hold on you were gentle, but possessive. Despite his perfectly crafted façade he was only a dragon, and dragons did not ever want to share their treasures. Seeing you surrounded by so many who wanted to congratulate you on your marriage shouldn’t have bothered him, but it did. He had clenched his jaw and dragged you upstairs to his private quarters.

His tongue was skilled and held an authority which made you blush. His pale fingers joined his tongue and brought you to a pleasure you knew you would never find with another man. You let yourself lose control of your body and gave your entire being to the awaiting dragon.

Ororon

The dark haired man was a desperate man. He clung to you as if you were his lifeline and for all you knew, maybe you were. His mismatched eyes held an obsession that ran deeper than the well that was outside his home.

He kissed your lower lips sloppily, but with such passion the poets of Mondstadt could never hope to achieve. He whimpered at the sweet taste of you and his kisses deepened. His lips parted from your sweet cunt and shifted to your inner thigh were he sunk his fangs into. You hissed as he sucked a purple hickey onto your sensitive.

“I should mark you up so no one gets any funny ideas about who you belong to” his sweet voice drowning out any other thoughts and filling them all with him.

Pantalone

Ringed fingers stroked the inside of your thighs as the dark haired Harbinger held your thighs. His pretty lips curled up into a smile that made your cheeks redden. He laughed at your embraced appearance. “Aren’t you the sweetest?” he purred as he kissed the inner of your thighs slowly, teasingly.

When his lips finally reached you were you wanted it the most you couldn’t help the small sounds that escaped your lips. The sounds only pushed him further on as he quickly and suddenly plunged his tongue deep inside. He moved his tongue skilfully as one of his hands found your clit which he rubbed gently.

The ring on your finger which symbolised the eternal binding you had to him felt like a part of you as you came undone on the silver tongue of the banker. It was as if your distaste of the marriage had never happened at all.

Pierro

The director of the Harbingers was a cold and collected man, but when it came to you he was different. The coldness thawed and was replaced with a warmth that lulled your senses. His large hands moved in precision that came with the many years he had lived. The marriage he had forced upon you didn’t seem as bad as you laid in the bed of his elegantly decorated bedroom with relics he had collected throughout the years.

His right hand held onto your thigh as the other held onto your and. Your hands intertwined. On of your legs were popped up on his shoulder as his tongue worked inside your tight hole. He was rather quiet save for a few grunt here and there, but it was obvious he enjoyed himself greatly.

As you came you tightened your hold on his hand and he kissed your thigh gently in a sign of his undying love.

Sethos

The tent was cramped, but with a miracle he had made it cozy. Blankets were covering the ground followed by pillows. Sethos was pressed between your thighs as he worshipped your cunt like it was an ancient goddess. His wild locks had fallen down his shoulders and framed his beautiful face. His gemstone like eyes found yours as he continued to please you with his tongue.

You could tell he was relieved to find you unharmed after the encounter with the bandits. You hadn’t dared to ask what he did to them afterwards, but you decided it was best to ignore it. You knew he would never hurt you, but you couldn’t help but feel bad for the bandits that had the misfortune to encounter the clever young man.

Thoma

The blond housekeeper had always been so very gentle and careful when it came to you. It made you wonder if he was scared you would break if he applied a little more pressure. Tonight however was different.

His hands dug into your skin as his tongue worked you up with fast and harsh movements. You couldn’t hold back the soft moans that fell from your lips. You closed your eyes as he ate you out.

His jealousy was evident in his tight hold. He had been seething through his usually calm and friendly expression. He couldn’t stand seeing other men lay their slimy hands on someone who belonged to him. Who knew what they would do to you?

Tighnari

Soft ears flicked as a deep groan sounded from deep within the chest of the forests watcher. His was eating you with carnal desire that had first surprised you. His arms snaked around your waist in a protective manner.

Tighnari had always been extremely overprotective for as long as you had known him. You had after a time, welcomed that side of him after you realised he only meant you well. His company was all you needed and you had started to forget how it was being with your friends.

A groan left his lips as he lapped up your release with a hunger fever. You let your fingers run along his ear which earned you a strangled moan. His hazel eyes gazed up into yours which such love. Why seek freedom when you had the sweetest lover?

Venti

The playful bard was happily lapping at your wet cunt. His fingers gently caressed your skin. His nose pushed against your clit as he angled his head in order to reach deeper into you.

Venti was a firm believer in freedom, and freedom he had given you. It had surprised you at first how a man with so deep feelings for you at the point you could envision him creeping into the cavity of your chest in order to be closer to you, letting you roam freely within the city. He had let you do as you wished, except talking to other men alone. Whenever a male counterpart approached you, his green eyes filled with rage was he stepped in and dragged you away.

Wanderer/ Scaramouche

Cold breath fanned over your lower half as he bent his face down. His beautiful face ethereal in the moonlight as his eyes found yours. Love and desperation swirled in the violets.

He swirled his tongue around your clit which made you gasp. His cold hand intertwined with yours in a gentle, but firm hold. He had always had the need to know where you were at all times and when you weren’t within his reach he became irritable and lashed out at anyone who dared to talk to him. You had long suspected that there was more to him than what he had told you. One thing was sure, his love for you ran deeper than the roots of the giants trees in the rainforest.

He ate you out with such emotion you were taken aback. The usual snarky man was now glossy in the eyes as his eyes raked across your face.

The moonlight cast long shadows over the bedroom as you came. At that very moment you didn’t care about how he didn’t want you to spend time with your friends. For was it really that bad to only be with him? Was it really that bad to be with the man you love?

Wriothesley

Strong hands held your hips in place as his face burrowed into your crotch. A few groans escaped his lips as his tongue works up your slit. His nose against your clit. Your eyes started up into the ceiling as you moaned. The Duke had had a bad day and he had wanted nothing more than to burrow his head between your thighs and eat you out for hours.

It had become an everyday occurrence with him nestled nicely between your thighs. You had long since stopped complaining about not being able to see the sun that hung high above the blue Fontainian waters.

“You are such a good girl, [Name]. Let me take care of you” his chin was glimmering with slick. His tongue swept over his chin in a hum. “You’re gonna be safe here. I’m glad you finally realise such” he kissed your inner thigh before he dove back in. What he said was true. You were going to be happy with him down in the Fortress.

Xiao

Golden predatory eyes held your gaze as the long fingers of the adeptus plugged into your cunt. The slick sounds filling the room accompanied by your uneven breathing. His mouth locked around your clit as he gave it a hard suck which sent shivers down your spine. Xiao was a man of few words, but that didn’t bother you. He had his own ways of showing you his love.

His ravenous tongue accompanied his fingers as he began his feast. The bedroom at his private quarters at the inn was dimly lit. A lone candle was burning on the nightstand. Your gaze wandered to the open window which overlooked the marsh and the land that stretched beyond. You longed for your freedom, but you didn’t want to part from the adeptus you loved so dearly. Maybe one day you two would traverse the world beyond the surrounding land of the inn.

Zhongli

Strong warm hands pinned you down as soft lips kissed down to your cunt. His hauntingly beautiful eyes met yours as he gently bit down onto your skin. His sharp teeth almost breaking the skin, but he parted before it started to hurt. He had time after time showed you he knew both you and your body better than everyone else.

The contract that laid neatly on the dark wooden nightstand was temporarily forgotten as he worked your through your nth orgasm for the night. His long silky brown hair fell over his shoulders as he tipped your head up into a deep kiss. His tongue invited yours to a dance of pleasure and love. He parted with your lips after a moment that felt like an eternity.

“I will make you happy for eternity. Just sign the contract and I will take care of everything else” his deep voice reverberated through his broad chest.

You nodded, oblivious to what would happen to you when you signed your name onto the golden paper. Your faith was in his hands, but he promised he would take care of you. You were his future wife after all.

Translation

Norwegian → English

“Jeg elsker deg” = “I love you”

“Min kjære” = “My dear”

[heavenbarnes]

I wanna make it (so badly)

Art Donaldson x Fem Reader

Warnings/Contains: reader is AFAB with she/her pronouns, swearing, inappropriate employer/employee relationship, dry-humping, a lot of heavy petting, implied age gap, effective-infidelity (reader tested, tashi approved), oral sex (f!receiving), art is a bit of a pervert and mega-pathetic (endearing), references to religion (worship).

Word Count: 5.8k

i white knuckled the steering wheel on the way home from this film thinking about art donaldson- this is, essentially, an ode to that

Youth tennis lessons, $20/h, call for details

Finding work was hard, keeping work was harder.

Cleaning, baby-sitting, pet-sitting, pet-walking. There was virtually nothing you hadn't tried.

Odd jobs, odd hours, and the occasional odd employer.

You'd played tennis for the last couple years of college. Nothing remotely competitive but you and your friends had looked cute in the skirts and they'd give you whole hours out of class to play.

You were above average with a good arm and better patience.

Another odd job to add to your growing list.

You'd been particular about where you'd posted the ads, the neighbourhoods you'd chosen. Only the ones with manicured lawns and white picket fences.

Tacking the paper to boards in upmarket cafes, fancy supermarkets, ladies-only gyms.

The kind of people that want their kids playing tennis and could find their way to increase your pay- if you did well.

You always did very well.

So your little car looked a little out of place in this neighbourhood, fingers holding the scribbled post-it note with the address. Your scrawling handwriting detailing the "Donaldson's" were enquiring within.

Pulling up outside the house, you had a quiet inkling that you might've been out of your depth. Whoever owned this house deserved more than an above-average-ex-college-student that only learnt the sport to spend time with friends.

But they'd requested you, you'd have to let them come to that conclusion on your own.

Your knuckles only hit the door once before it was being swung open by someone that looked destined to be a security guard, like he'd come out the womb with his future decided.

What the fuck had you gotten yourself into?

He'd left you in the "formal lounge" to sit smack-bang in the centre of a couch that wouldn't even fit in the lobby of your apartment building- let alone the apartment itself.

As you admired a painting on the wall that you'd only ever seen in books, high heels on the stone floors made you jump in your seat.

The most beautiful woman you might ever see in your life appeared before you and said your name in a way that had you standing from your seat.

Your face faltered just enough that you hoped she didn't notice. There was something about her that told you she noticed everything.

Fuck me, that's Tashi Duncan.

If you know a thing about tennis (or even just watched the news) you know exactly who this woman is. You remember her more from your childhood but you remember her all the same.

The woman that once held the world by the balls.

She apologised for her husband's absence, that he was busy. It wasn't lost on you that the "husband" she casually referred to was Art Donaldson, US Open champion.

The Donaldson's.

Ah fuck.

Tashi went on the explain that they were wanting to begin lessons for their daughter Lily. You assumed this was the one you could hear running circles around the informal lounge.

"With all due respect, am I not the least qualified person in this home for that?"

You watched a perfectly formed cheekbone lift in what was nearly a smile. Strangely enough, something in the pit of your chest was dying to make her do that again.

There was something about her that demanded to be impressed.

You were no exception to the rule.

"My husband and I have seen some of your matches, we liked what we saw."

How? Your 'matches'- if you can even call them that, were nothing of note. You don't even think faculty bothered to watch them. You weren't quite sure why they'd even recorded them.

A silly part of you began to wonder how they'd even got a hold of them- until you remembered who they were.

The Hermes and Peitho of tennis.

"You did? I always thought of myself as more of a casual player."

"And that's what we liked, we know better than anyone how brutal tennis can become. We want someone to help Lily enjoy the game."

Oh, okay then.

You'd made a quasi-college-career out of purely enjoying the game. You were sure you could foster the same spirit for the six-year-old performing the entire 'Encanto' soundtrack in the other room.

Tashi laid down a tight schedule, Monday to Friday, 3pm to 6pm. You would teach Lily the wonders of the game on the court behind their home.

Their home you'd come to find out was a luxury rental when you'd complemented Tashi on another of the art pieces that'd apparently come with the place.

You'd also come to find out they typically live in hotel rooms, but they'd settled in this area for the time being as Art had a good thing going with a regular playing schedule and a sporting-goods deal.

You nodded along like you could begin to understand a life like that.

As she showed you back to your car (the one you suddenly felt humiliated for her to see you own), she called your name one last time from the doorway.

"You undersell yourself, we'll give you eighty an hour."

She left you choking on your tongue with one foot in the car and the other on an Italian cobblestone.

You were never going to walk or sit another dog again.

Lily was going to win her first Grand Slam by ten if that's what they'd pay you.

As your peeled your car from their turn-around area, you watched a Jeep Wrangler slow as it passed you. You couldn't see through the tint but you just knew it was him.

And you knew he was watching you.

-

The minute you'd told your roommate the situation you'd come into, she'd called bullshit.

A few texts from Tashi's now saved icon and a weird little photo you'd taken from inside the guest bathroom, it'd been enough to convince her.

"Fucking hell, are you God's favourite or something?"

You'd argue you were quite the opposite, she of all people should know. She'd seen some of the states you'd come home in after your other random jobs.

Felt good to be the winner.

Even just once.

In the air of some girlish fascination, she brought up a Youtube video of "Tashi Duncan Career Highlights" courtesy of "tennisguy779."

You'd protested it, rolling your eyes while feigning disinterest. No use, the minute you caught her out the corner of your eye- you were captivated.

It was entirely possible to imagine she hovered above the court, like there was a greater force placing her exactly where she needed to be, exactly when she needed.

It was even easier to believe she was just that good.

As you watched her play, listened to the sounds the game could draw from her- you wondered if this was how she and Art had felt.

Had they curled up in their informal lounge like you were right now? Had Tashi studied your every move meticulously like you assume? Had Art passed comment on your form? Did he think you were any good?

Tennisguy779's lineup changed quickly to "Art Donaldson Career Highlights" and you felt your chest constrict. An inexplicable feeling washed over you.

Like you'd been caught with God's forbidden fruit.

Your roommate had tried to question why you'd effectively flown off the couch, only to be met with a muttered 'goodnight' as you shut the bedroom door behind you.

Thin walls meant you drifted off to sleep that night with the rhythmic sounds of Art, grunting his way through an ATP Challenger.

It was no surprise you dreamt of him.

-

The Donaldson's tennis court was down a steep set of stairs, set back into an oasis of lush greenery.

Perfect for a 6-year-old's first lessons.

You didn't know if it was the grand balcony that overlooked the court or the fact a well-manicured Tashi stood atop it, but you felt positively observed.

Lily was in the midst of showing you how she could do a cartwheel (she couldn't) when the voice in the back of your head started echoing a promise of $80/h.

"Alright, lets channel some of that into your elbow."

Give a six-year-old a racquet half the size of her and she's going to blow effective chunks, but at least she has the spirit. Maybe it's her energy, maybe it has been a while since you've been on the court-

The kid's running you ragged.

Coupled with her height, you're spending more time bent over than you are up straight and it's all going to your head. All you can hope is Tashi isn't up there watching you stumble after the ball.

But you're sure there are eyes on your back.

Lily is a quick learner and you work out a tradeoff of one tennis skill for one spinning heel kick (mandatory that you watch).

Roll on 6pm and she's dog-tired, however, she's managed to hit the ball at least twice. Surely that's earned your keep. She lays star-fished on the turf and murmurs something about a piggyback.

You know you're about to earn your keep.

By the top of the staircase, you're more than happy to hand over a Lily-shaped-sack-of-potatoes to Tashi's mother. As you emerge from behind an ornate gargoyle, your suspicions proved correct.

Art Donaldson had been watching your every move.

Left alone on the balcony with him, you're acutely aware of the fact he's standing between you and your exit, and he's just had a full show of you bent over and flitting about his tennis court.

That and you still haven't said so much as 'hello' to the man.

You dwell on it for a moment and then there's that feeling back in the pit of your stomach, like any minute you'll be caught with fruit in hand- in throat.

The Original Sin.

Luckily, Art made the decision for you, crossing the space to shake your hand. If he noticed the way your hand trembled, he didn't seem to mind.

"It's nice to finally meet you."

You wished you had more to say to him, or maybe something more intelligent. Something better than a quiet "and you."

He was the better conversationalist, thankfully. Head motioning to the court, he looked down his nose at you when he spoke.

It should've felt condescending. It didn't.

"How did she go out there?"

"Yeah, really good- not a Disney character I can't name now."

He laughed.

Really laughed, like the joke was better than it was.

Like there was a preening little flutter inside you that said "do it again!"

You shrugged your shoulders like making him happy came naturally as you squinted up at him, as if he was the sun.

"You were watching? You must've seen her picking it up?"

Because he was the expert. Because he is the champion.

He hummed as he nodded, eyes skywards like there might've been something more important behind the clouds.

"Must've been distracted."

Within an instant- his eyes flickered to your own and you were sure he watched them change. He must've seen something he liked, the corner of his lip quirked up before he spoke again.

"Come on, I'll sort your payment and then we'll let you get home."

And for whatever reason, his hand fit perfectly in the small of your back as he lead you inside.

-

And how quickly did you become a strange piece of furniture in the Donaldson's home- in their life?

An ottoman for Tashi to rest her tired feet on.

An abstract piece on the wall for Art to admire when he passes it.

A projection of constellations across the ceiling to keep Lily bright behind the eyes.

At least you belonged- there was no doubt that this was where you belonged.

That wasn't to say your tennis skill had improved any, lesson after lesson you still couldn't wrap your head around why they'd even signed you on, let alone kept you.

"Ok, don't watch that one either- maybe just do what I say and not what I do."

You hadn't nailed a single one, at this point you couldn't blame Lily for skipping around pretending her racquet was a horse.

Wasn't like she'd be learning anything if she was paying attention.

"Ok, here we go just- ok right, when your parents ask how today went, please be kind."

"Your elbow is too low."

It was a miracle you didn't scream.

Art entered the court with a swagger that you could only assume struck fear when he was your opponent.

Right now it struck pure embarrassment and Lily wasn't helping.

"Daddy, she didn't hit a single one!"

"Alright, I don't think daddy needs to know that-"

"Daddy knows, daddy's been watching."

Daddy really needs to stop calling himself that.

Lily and her racquet took off for another tour of The Grand National as Art approached you with quiet determination.

It was like waiting for impact, his eyes never wavered off his daughter as he made towards you. At the last moment, he snapped his attention in your direction- with a smile that should've felt condescending.

It wasn't.

"If your elbow is too low you lose topspin and power."

If you deserved the $80/h you were earning, you might've known that.

As Art stepped up to you, the turn of the planets on their axis slowed down and it could've been entirely possible to believe it was only you two.

And Lily upon her trusty steed.

The gallops of her tennis shoes thinned out as Art placed one hand around your elbow, lifting it higher. His other hand held your waist as he pulled your back flush to his chest.

"Lily, go find grandma."

Then it really was just you two.

Your heart hammered against the shell of your ribcage, blood rushing around your ears as you felt Art's chin perch at your shoulder.

"If your elbow is high enough," His hand lifted it up and you let it stay there. "And your hip is turned."

He didn't have to say it with the gravel in his voice, but he did. He didn't have to hold your hips as he moved them, but he did. He didn't have to stay without so much of an inch between the two of you, but he did.

With one hand in the curve of your waist, he tossed the ball into the air with the other- then he whistled.

Like the obedient thing you didn't know you were, you raised the racquet and sent the ball flying through the air without even blinking.

As the streak of green hit the court and rolled away, you found yourself lying in wait, as if you were waiting for something- your next command?

"Good girl."

There it was.

Under the all consuming effect that Art Donaldson just seemed to have on people, you'd entirely forgotten you were in a position you could be 'caught' in. By his all consuming wife, of all people.

So, you should've moved.

Quite honestly you should've straightened up and cleared your throat and thanked him and told him it was time for you to go home.

You should've moved.

But Art wasn't moving. If anything he was staying purposefully still at your backside.

Obedient thing you seem to be.

"Show me that again?"

So,

You teach Lily the bare basics of tennis for three hours and receive $80 on the hour.

Then Art spends three hours of his spare time teaching you to perfect your swing- in a way that couldn't ever vaguely resemble professional.

A simple transactional arrangement.

Your tennis improves on a slow but sure basis and he gets the most off-court action he's seen since college.

Even if it is just heavy petting on astro-turf.

A hand under the hem of a tennis skirt. A pressing hip against your own. A deep breath as your hair brushes past him.

You figure Art will take what he can get.

And it's never enough to raise alarm. Sure, there's that fluttering in your chest that warns you might get 'caught' but you're never quite sure what one might 'catch' if they found you out.

It's undoubted who that 'one' is though.

The one who holds the cards- holds the throat, maybe.

Tashi, who's presence precedes her perhaps more than her reputation. Even when she isn't there, she's there.

So, when Art's hand lingers too long on the outside of your thigh and you think you can feel it verging into the territory that'll change everything- it's Tashi on your mind.

You're beginning to think your conscience sounds a lot like Tashi.

-

Who are you if not obedient to the Donaldson's?

Chasing Lily around a court.

Adhering to Tashi's every request.

Being Art's fantasy.

Being Art's.

Most of the time, anyway. Three hours a week.

Something to keep him bright behind the eyes, maybe. Something to keep him happy. Something to keep him-

Winning?

He tells you he plays better with you around. The way he says it makes you giggle, a girlish little noise that sort of just slips out. He serves the ball with his eyes on you and, sure enough, it lands smack where he wanted it too.

Everything where he wants it. When he wants it.

Shy and inconsequential touches and glances shared just between you.

Until, well- until they weren't.

"Would you like a coffee?"

Tashi's mother had taken Lily off to bed, leaving you and Art separated by an island. Kitchen island.

He braced both palms against it as he watched you watch the door, wondering if you should cut and run, wondering if someone else might come through it.

Talking yourself out of it. Whatever it might be.

"Yes please."

Even he looked surprised, brows raising an inch as he turned to the Nespresso machine. You took the moment to watch his back, the muscles moving under the cool-dry fabric of his shirt.

You spent all your time pretending not to notice him that actually allowing yourself the chance to study him made you lightheaded.

Had he always looked this captivating?

He broke your focus with a coffee cup, sliding it towards you as he rounded the bench. His eyes didn't even waver off you as he took a sip of his own.

It wasn't lost on you that he managed to tongue foam off the tip of his nose.

This was the longest you'd stuck around after a tennis lesson, longest you'd allowed yourself to be in his presence. You weren't quite sure how big this thing could get.

Your mouth was opening before your brain had decided it was a good idea.

"Mr. Donaldson-"

"Art."

"Uh, Art- I really appreciate the help you've been giving me- uh, you know- with tennis."

He placed his coffee mug down, nodding as he did it. "My pleasure."

Naturally.

That brain of yours was still firing off at a mile a minute. There was a very tiny voice right at the back that said it was up to you how this night would end- you had a choice to make.

Placing your coffee mug beside his, you scanned his face to find him already looking at you. Perhaps the choice was already set.

Maybe it was fate.

All he said was your name, it could've been the way he said it- but your whole body was losing the rigidity it'd formed when he first asked you to stay longer. When he'd made the choice.

Crossing the small gap between you two, Art was careful to keep one hand on the kitchen bench as the other hovered beside you. Not touching you,

Yet.

One step closer and the tip of Art's nose was touching yours. You think you might've been able to smell the coffee off his breath.

It thinned out- leaving you with his sweat. Musk. Art.

A sudden surge of morals overcame you, your voice broke out as a gasp.

"What about Mrs. Donaldson?"

"Actually, it's still Duncan."

You screamed.

Right in his face.

Tashi's voice made you jump out of your skin.

However, Art didn't move. As you turned your head to gauge the way his wife stalked across the kitchen, you felt his nose brush against your cheek.

Tashi retrieved a tall bottle of Pellegrino from the fridge, taking a poignant sip as her eyes flitted between the two of you.

What a fucking sight.

Her husband, eyes shut and face pressed pathetically to their daughter's tennis instructor- his hands itching to close around your waist.

You, young and bleary eyed looking utterly caught. Staring up at her like she might decide your fate.

It took all your strength to find your words.

"I’m not here to teach tennis, am I?”

“No, of course not. You’re frankly terrible at tennis.”

There's the Tashi you were expecting.

Her words should've stung, but they didn't. They couldn't, not when her husband was laying his hands against your back and rubbing soothing circles down the length of your spine.

Not when his lips were mouthing wet kisses along your cheek.

Not when she was right. Spade's a spade.

"Why am I here?"

She snorted, a real dissatisfactory sound- like she hoped you were smarter than that. She was halfway to her bedroom before she cut you loose.

"Careful, he makes that sound before he cums."

-

And he had, just like she'd said.

Art had cum in his shorts, pressed up against your thigh with his face still smushed against your own.

And you'd taken it, obedience in spades.

You'd stood there and let him hump your leg like a bad dog and you'd even pat his head and whispered kind words in his ear after the mess he'd made.

Then you slipped out the front door to your car and you'd pretended not to notice that there were two bedroom lights on upstairs.

You hadn't even divulged the freaky details to your roommate when you got home.

But the showerhead knew all about them.

Visions of Art on the clouds of steam- replayed in your head the sounds he'd made right in your ear.

How he'd whimpered your name when he splashed his boxers like a fucking teenager.

It was no surprise you dreamt of him.

You even showed up next day, valiantly. You didn't run for the hills or even straight to a tabloid about how weird the Donaldson's really were.

And maybe that's why you hadn't told your roommate either.

Because telling someone what Tashi allowed? What Art liked?

That'd mean you'd have to admit your dirty little secret.

You loved it.

When you showed up, something was different. No usual chatter in the house, no shoes by the front door. You checked out the front window to see what you'd missed when you arrived.

Tashi's car was gone.

"She's taken her mom and Lily to the ballet."

At least you didn't scream this time.

You were lucky your back was to him, lest he see the self-righteous little smile that broke when the words settled.

"Oh, ok."

"I'll see you on the court."

Oh, ok.

Lest he see the disappointment that took over.

Following him close behind, you didn't know why you were effectively surprised that he still wanted to continue with your lessons. You'd half expected- hoped, he'd bend you over the kitchen island.

Tennis was fun too, you guess.

Thinking about it, something that bold didn't seem the style of the man who'd nearly blacked out rubbing up on you. Beckoning you onto the tennis court with two fingers and a wry smile did, however.

You fell into your usual position, hip turned and elbow curved on your side of the court. You waited for him to appear behind you, chest melding into the curve of your back.

It never came.

Art took long strides towards the net, vaulting it in one smooth motion. He ended up parallel to you, waiting with a ball and racquet in either hand.

The smile had left his face, a rather blank expression taking over as he sized you up. And there was that fear- knowing what it felt like to be on the wrong side of him.

This was going to hurt.

From the moment he pressed the ball to the neck of his racquet, it was all over. Your feet were never in one place for more than a second, your arms burned above you, your head permanently on a swivel.

Art didn't look like he'd broken more than a sweat.

You knew he had, you could see it in the neck of his shirt. But he didn't look it.

He looked calm, he looked in control, he looked-

Like he was enjoying himself.

For every rally that you managed, you thought you saw an inkling of pride set in his features.

For every serve that you missed, you knew you saw unbridled lust.

Not a point scored in your favour, you hit the ball towards him one last time before you collapsed to the turf. Flat on your back, reminiscent of your first lesson here.

You watched the clouds shift over your head, listening to your pulse thick and fast in your ears. Just underneath it, you could hear footfalls approaching.

No hurry, but impending.

Soon, the sun above you was eclipsed by Art Donaldson. His golden hair shone with the halo of light behind it.

Now this was God's favourite.

"You can't be giving up this easily?"

Forcing a laugh, you threw your arm up and over your eyes. "Wanna bet?"

Turns out he did- turns out Art struggled to do anything but win.

Somehow, you found it within yourself to stand back up. This time it was only a practice, you weren't brave enough to face off against him another round.

This was more your speed.

The hand that wasn't holding your elbow was curving around your front, the pleats of your tennis skirt lifting over his fingers. You felt a warm hand slowly moving across the front of your underwear.

Two fingers migrated south, pressing against the seam of you- he must've felt the pure heat radiating beneath his fingertips.

Turning your head even an inch, you found the curve of his nose pressing into your cheek.

"I didn't give up."

He hummed, the vibration rolled across your shoulders.

"Mmm, you didn't."

The hand sans-racquet dropped between your thighs to press his palm into your cunt. It was Art who flexed your fingers and cupped it.

"Where's my prize?"

There was no trophy, no podium, no medal.

But there was Art between your legs, slinging a knee over each shoulder like he might've been the real winner.

You'd never been inside the 'changing shed' behind the court, of course it was nicer than your actual home.

Your head made contact with the hard wood behind you, bench digging into your ass as you felt a hot mouth moving against the seat of your underwear.

Running your fingers through his hair, your gripped the ends of it- tugging him closer until you felt the flat of his tongue through the thin fabric.

Needy fingers tugged the ruined garment down your thighs, tucking him into the pocket of his shorts. You knew all too well that you'd never see them again.

You were sure Art would be seeing a lot of them.

His tongue ran up the split, one long stroke before you felt the curve of his nose press to your clit. The ridge of it moved as his tongue retreated back to your entrance.

With everything he had.

Your eyes had been rolling back in your head as you arched your back, the moment you were able to find a semblance of control- your gaze fell before you.

Naturally, Art was already looking up at you. Two hands splayed across each side of your hips as he pulled back to wrap his lips around your clit.

You couldn't help the hazy little smile on your face as you watched his eyes.

Utterly devotional.

The more you tugged on his hair, the hungrier he seemed. Pulling from the root seemed to spur him on, seemed to tell him 'good job' and he was responsive.

His tongue flicked beneath your clit, pressing it to his upper lip as he brought two fingers to your entrance. He stroked a couple times, making your hips twitch against him, before he sunk in to the last knuckle.

Turns out Art had a style about him. One he brought to the tennis court and, seemingly, to the floor of his changing shed.

The style was calculated.

Every move he made was engineered to get something out of you- a reaction, a whimper, a twitch. He was doing what he did best.

Playing a game.

Art struggled to do anything but win.

"Fuck- Mr. Donaldson."

"Art."

Even muffled against your cunt, you were good at following his orders. Even more so when he was the decider of your imminent orgasm.

You threaded your fingers in the sides of his hair, pulling his face flush against you so you could ride his mouth. Taking every last thing from him you could.

It drew the most pathetic moan you'd ever heard, straight out of his chest and hit you straight at your core. The burning coil tight within your stomach was unraveling quickly.

You heard the murmurings of words, among the blood rushing in your ears. Easing up just enough, you let him pull back to speak.

"Tell me this feels good, please."

Your chest thumped, the sight of Art helpless between your legs was one thing. Hearing him beg?

You might black out.

"Art- you feel so fucking good," Dragging him right back where you needed him, the tip of his tongue drove against your clit. "You're gonna' make me cum."

He whined.

A heady drawn-out sound that quite literally sent you over the edge. Your hips lifted off the bench, the heel of your foot digging into his back and making his whine turn into a whimper.

Your orgasm broke you apart until it felt like white-hot flame licking up your sides. Of course, Art never relented, drinking in everything you could give him- literally.

The moment you felt the peak begin to subside, the urge was ramping right back up. Like he knew what he was doing, his eyes locked back onto yours as he sucked at your clit.

He was going for gold.

A quick second orgasm hit, seemingly out of nowhere. Your thighs clenched around Art's head, his hands coming to each of them.

You relaxed yourself a bit, feeling like it might be too much- until you felt him pressing your thighs even harder to either of his ears.

Oh, ok.

Art Donaldson knew what he liked.

You physically had to push him off you, watching him fall back on his outstretched palms as you let yourself breathe for what felt like the first time.

Wet eyes, wet chin, chest rising and falling like he'd run a marathon- Art sat sprawled out before you like he'd stumbled upon an alter (he had).

Breathless, you gestured towards him. Your hand dropped a little as your eyes fell between his legs, wordlessly offering a deal.

A deuce.

His cheeks flushed, more so than they already were. His eyes fell an infinitesimal amount before he spoke up.

"Uh- I already have."

Of course he had. He makes that sound before he cums.

Instead, you heard him shuffle back onto his knees as he all but crawled towards you. He draped his upper half into your lap, head resting against the soft cotton of your skirt.

Coming off the other side of a high, the reality of your situation began to settle for you. Why they'd really called you here- what purpose you really served.

All you could do was gently stroke a hand across Art's head, feeling him go limp against you. Boneless, but not spineless.

He must've known you were going to speak, he must've heard the intake of breath or just felt you shift. He cut you to the chase- beat you to the punchline.

Art nuzzled his face further into your lap as you felt him mumble against your thigh.

"I can't lose- you."

[bunnis-monsters]

I hope I'm not too late! For the 5K event (congratulations btw!!! You deserve all of them ^^), could my request be of a merman pod finding reader and deciding she needs to be their mate/breeding partner? I guess it'd be kind of a similar situation with the cow/bull hybrids?? I'm not sure how it'd go, but It can be as sfw or nsfw as you want (I deeply apologize if this exceeds 1k words. Of course you don't have to write this if you don't want to). Thank you in advance! ^^

A/N: my requests and commissions are closed for the foreseeable future, but my commission wait list is open! Consider reading my commission info and helping me out! Slots are limited, so get on the waitlist while you still can~

Warning: dubcon, breeding, virginity loss

It had been a normal day out on the water for you, swimming and splashing around in a small cove near your home.

Unfortunately(or maybe fortunately) for you, it was the spot where a pod of mermen spent their breeding season, relaxing and eating there before going out to try and find a suitable mate.

As you got ready to get out and go grab a snack from your cooler, you felt someone’s eyes on you…

When you turned to look, a head quickly dipped back under the water, and you felt your blood run cold when you spotted several dark shapes swimming in your direction.

Of course you immediately swam for the shore, afraid of it being a shark or some underwater predator. You were alone out there, and if you were eaten no one would ever even know.

Before you could stand to start wading through the now waist deep water, something grabbed your ankle, pulling you under.

You cursed yourself for not bringing your goggles, unable to open your eyes under the stinging, salty sea water.

You prepared for some kind of attack, hoping it wouldn’t be too painful… but nothing happened. Your body was gently lifted out of the water, and you felt something cool and smooth rubbing against your cheek… and your belly… and pretty much every part of your skin.

When you opened your eyes, you were surprised to see that you were surrounded by strange creatures, half human and half fish. They all were nuzzling their cheeks unto your flesh, some giving you soft licks as if inspecting you.

After thoroughly looking over you, they all began purring and trilling, some cooing as they set you on your feet. Getting a better look at them, you realized they were all handsome, and were all smiling as they surrounded you.

“A female in our cove? What luck!”

You were surprised when one of the creatures spoke, even more surprised when another responded with soft trills and clicks.

“Yes, she is quite warm… and so soft!”

The feeling of cool scales rubbing against your thigh made you yelp. One of their tails was curling around you, keeping you close and still.

“H-hey! What do you think you’re doing!?”

They all flinched when you raised your voice, their fins perking up. Some looked at you curiously, while some seemed a bit annoyed or afraid.

“Mmm? We’re preparing to breed with you. It’s not often a female is so close to our cove while it’s mating season.”

You nearly fainted, this was all too much. First you were having to accept the fact that mermen were real, which was hard enough by itself.

Now, these mermen that you just learned actually existed wanted to breed with you.

Another merman pressed against your back, letting out a soft coo as something sticky and hard slipped and rubbed between your thighs.

There was one in front of you as your thighs were fucked from behind. He examined your bathing suit, talking his head and pulling at the fabric curiously.

“Something to cover your mating slit? Perhaps human females are more cunning than I thought…”

He seemed to view the fabric as a separate layer of skin, his weighed fingers moving to trace over your clothed pussy.

The merman’s eyes went wide, and his finge red pressed against your clothed hole. “Warm… so warm…”

The feeling of his cool, webbed fingers moving over your warm pussy made you shiver and buck your hips uncontrollably. This made the merman purr in delight.

“Y-you can remove it… it’s clothing,” you said, panting softly. Honestly, it had been so long since you’ve really pleasured yourself, and you desperately wanted to get fucked stupid.

Your bathing suit was unceremoniously ripped off, and the pod gathered around you.

There were whines and hisses, each merman fighting over who got to breed you first.

It was finally settled that they would go from smallest to largest. A merman, a bit younger than the rest approached you shyly. He was excited, this would be his first time breeding!

He chirped at you, giving you puppy dog eyes as his cock bobbed up and down in need. It seemed this one couldn’t speak, possibly being new to human speech.

“Go on, just inhale her scent and your instincts will take over,” one of the merman said, encouraging the other as he placed a hand on your thigh.

His face buried itself in his neck, and as soon as he inhaled your scent his body stiffened and pressed against you.

The feeling of his cock struggling to find your hole, rubbing against you desperately made your heart throb. This merman was too cute!

You loved your hand down, the man letting out a nervous yet aroused trill when you helped to guide his cock to your entrance.

“There you go, baby… r-right there…”

He nuzzled his cheek against yours, the flesh slightly rough against your soft skin.

The second he sunk his cock into your cunt, he let out a groan, unable to stop his hips from rutting into you roughly.

You but your lip, trying not to make too much noise. The other merman moved in closer to watch, and they all seemed to communicate with the one mating with you.

“Warm? You said she’s warm there?”

“Oh… cum already, I want a turn!”

The first merman came, relaxing against you as your pussy was filled with his cum. The next was eager to get a feeling of your pussy, pushing the other out of the way before pushing in.

“Nngh… w-warm…” he gasped out, his body hands trembling as they grasped your plump hips.

None of them were used to fucking into something so soft and warm, mermaid were usually cold and rough… but god you were the complete opposite.

It was a breeding frenzy after that, each desperate to get their turn fucking that fat, warm pussy of yours. The sound of wet squelching and shameful moans and cries echoing through the cove.

After each had a turn, they returned you to the shore, leaving you with a freshly caught fish before they left to go hunt.

“We’ll be back by nightfall, mate!”

“Don’t enter the water until we’re home! We don’t want our scents attracting other competing males!”

They waved to you as they swam away… and you were looking forward the summer with your new pod of mates.

part 2? might make a little series based off this concept where you meet each merman and get to know them!

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @buckoothecow @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila

[januaryembrs]

CROSS MY HEART | Spencer Reid x wife!Reader

Request: read here

description: Spencer's wife struggles with the aftermath of JJ's confession

length: 1.5k

warnings: JJ's 14x15 confession spoilers (big ick, pull yourself together Jennifer) infidelity, thoughts of worthlessness, reader thinks Spencer is going to leave her for JJ.

authors note: I have loved JJ for all of fourteen seasons and fourteen episodes. this was a BIG ICK for me watching this won't lie

She should have known something was wrong the minute they left that damn store. 

It took her all of two seconds to throw herself into her husband’s arms, her voice choked with tears that had threatened to spill when she’d seen the video of Casey shooting at him, and she swore Spencer had never grabbed her so tight. 

“I thought you,” She sniffled, running her fingers through the back of his scalp, the entire spanse of his huge hands ran along her spine, counting every vertebra to make sure she was still intact, despite the fact he had been the one held hostage, “I thought he’d shot you- it came so close,” 

He hushed her mewls, a hand reaching to the back of her head and tucked her into his neck further, the sob rattling through her ribcage almost, almost, taking his mind entirely off what JJ had said in that stupid game of truth or dare. 

What the fuck did she mean she had always loved him? She had a husband and children who doted on her; Will, who loved every shred of her being like it was his only purpose in the world. His godsons who had known him as uncle Spencer since he’d held them in the hospital, covered in goop and looking like the cutest little aliens he’d ever seen. 

And yet JJ, his friend, perhaps one of his longest friends, was willing to throw it away for him? He, who had a wife he adored more than there were birds in the wind, leaves on an Autumn floor, more than there were galaxies in the damn cosmos. His wife, who had been there for him since the moment they’d met, who he’d known was the one since that first day she’d ran into him in the lobby, their files mixing together because neither of them had been watching where they were going, like one of those romcoms she forced him to watch and he pretended to hate, or like the silly thing she called fate that she insisted was very much real. 

Spencer was a man of statistics and numbers and facts; things he could see. But he was sure there was nothing in any textbook that could have ever made sense of how the one person so perfectly created for him, the blob of cells that made up his wife that seemed to call to his own as if they were coming home to one another, would have just so happened to bump into him on a random Tuesday in August. 

Most people waited decades for that kind of love, or something close, and he’d managed to get it at the ripe age of thirty three. 

And yet in the space of ten seconds, of four little words in a wretched game, he felt like the carpet had been pulled from beneath him. Because why would JJ, who saw as clearly as anyone else how much he cherished his wife and the future they were planning together, try to take that away from him?

And as if his own odd spiral of thoughts wasn’t a kick to the gut enough, his sweet wife had quickly released him from her grasp and thrown herself at JJ, who seemed to just now be understanding the gravity of her words as she looked around with wide eyes, tear stains wetting her cheeks, the guilt gnawing in her gut already. 

“JJ! Are you okay? Oh, you poor thing, you must have been so scared,” She sobbed, wrapping her friend in a loving hug that was shakily reciprocated, like JJ was waiting for the second she would get a fat shiner to the nose for confessing such a thing. 

But that never happened. Instead, she pulled away from the frozen blonde woman, who looked like she could burst into tears then and there and apologise for everything until her face turned blue, and ran a kind hand over the JJ's hair, stroking it behind her ear tenderly as she tried to quell her cries because she wasn't the one who had been held at gunpoint. 

She didn’t know. It hit them both at the same time. She didn’t know what JJ had said, hadn’t even got an inkling into what had happened, and god did it make the sinking feeling in Spencer’s chest swallow itself up into something the size of the Mariana Trench. 

And what was left, what had for a second been a horrid mix of confusion, shock, fear and then another big dollop of confusion for good measure, quickly was dragged away by the current and replaced with anger. 

Anger that JJ could do something like this to his wife; he frankly didn’t care how her words had affected him, that if he had been single he would have been left feeling unworthy of her affection the first time it had been offered around, like there was something so disgustingly wrong with him this was what it took for her to say anything. He didn’t care about any of that. He cared that this would absolutely destroy his wife. 

And it was for that reason Spencer hurried the paramedics into fixing the small graze on his palm as he watched with boiling blood his wife tend to JJ like she would any other time her close friend was hurt in the field. He seethed whenever Jennifer would simper and avoid her friend's eyes, how his beautiful, caring, devoted wife would stroke the woman’s back and will her to talk, to tell her what to do to make it better.

Because it was her who should be fussing over his sweet wife, certainly not the other way around. 

But he couldn’t say that, not there at least, and so he didn’t, not until he had got the greenlight from the medics to leave and he had all but cut off the circulation in her fingers with how tight he’d held her hand as he led her to the car. 

Spencer said nothing, not wanting to fight when she forced him to sit shotgun as she climbed behind the wheel, not wanting to cause a commotion when there was a much bigger bombshell he was sitting on that he knew would change her feelings entirely. 

-

“What?” Her voice was soft still, a murmur in the quiet night air of their bedroom. She sat, fresh faced, minty breathed, kevlar vest long gone and replaced with one of his old Dr Who shirts and comfy bottoms.

She said the word again, like she hadn’t heard him, but judging by the way her expression had fallen into something dejected, he knew that wasn’t the case. 

Sighing, drawing gentle motions up and down her legs with his warm hands, shuffled closer where he kneeled down in front of her submittingly. “JJ said that she has always loved me; that was her ‘truth’ in the game,”

“Well, she-she was lying right?” His wife said quickly, her voice shaking, trying to make sense of it herself. She didn’t get an answer right away, just her husband’s eyes casting down as he tried to think of the best thing to say, “Right, Spencer?” 

“I don’t know,” He said earnestly, and he saw immediately the way tears sprung to her eyes, her bottom lip trembling, her face warming in wet-anger, “But it doesn’t change anything, sweetheart. It doesn’t matter, to me- baby, please don’t cry,”

“Ofcourse it changes things, Spencer, it’s JJ. She’s literally the hottest woman to walk the earth, Pen said you were like in love with her when you started the BAU, and now you have your chance,” She whimpered, fat tears rolling over her freshly moisturised cheeks, and he swore he felt his chest concave at her words. 

“My chance? I don’t want a chance, I want you,” Spencer said in earnest, his hands rubbing further and further up her legs until his hands went under her night shirt, grabbing onto the soft of her hips with pleading tenderness, “I want you forever, no matter what JJ or any other woman feels about me,” 

She sniffled pitifully, her eyes still unsure and he took it as a sign she needed more, so he leaned in fully to hug her to him. 

“But it’s JJ,” She said again, like that was going to change anything, and he shook his head, stroking over the back of her hair softly.

“I don't care,” He said, and she sniffed gently into the crook of his neck, his skin wetting with the contact. She finally wrapped her arms around him, and he knew he was close to getting it through to her, “I had the smallest crush on JJ, what, fifteen years ago? Honey, I want you for the rest of my life, and nothing and no one is going to change my mind about that, not even you.” 

“Really?” His sweet wife whispered tearfully, and he chuckled sadly, hating how hard she had cried that it had ripped the life from her voice. 

“Cross my heart,” He kissed her hairline softly, tipping her head upwards with one long, warm finger under her chin, pressing a gentle kiss to her wetted lips, “Hope I never die,”

She smiled sorrowfully, kissing her husband as if it was the last time she could ever do so, hoping it made up for how puffy and ugly her tears had made her face. But he didn’t care, he never had, he thought she was perfect just the way she was.

And he’d remind her of that any time she thought otherwise. 

–

[myladysapphire]

To Gwayne, with love

tired of being ingored and undervalued, you take your dragon and leave to find the one person who sees you for who you really are; your uncle, Gwayne Hightower

based of this request

word count: 5,086

CW: MDI, 18+, smut, loss of virginity, p in v, fingering, oral (f reciving), incest, angts, love letters (if the title wasnt a hint), fluff, love confessions, not proofread!

Gwayne Hightower x neice!reader

Masterlist

Growing up as the eldest child, and eldest daughter of Alicent and Viserys you had long felt unwanted and overlooked.

Where your twin, Aegon, was seen as a future king, the rightful heir, you were seen as only a daughter, pushed to the side and out of the limelight.

Always looked over, even when it came to marriage. Where it made sense for you to marry Aegon, Heleana married him instead.

You were overlooked, and often forgotten.

Even events held in your honour were overshadowed, be it by your twin or your eldest sister Rhaenrya.

Countless nights tears had filled your eyes as you were pushed aside in favour of another sibling.

It was a funny thing really, you were the eldest daughter and yet were the last to be betrothed, excluding Daeron that was. And yet you had once been dubbed the Realms heart, you had been kind and sweet. But years of neglect, being undervalued and ignored had turned you cold and restless and made you a rebel. Where your uncle Daemon was the rouge prince, you were the defiant princess.

You had stopped waiting by the sidelines, stopped keeping too yourself and your thoughts stopped being quiet. you become outspoken, even more so when your brother was crowned king.

But all that seemed for nought as you were now meet with roll of eyes and the sound of the key locking your chambers from the outside.

You couldn’t say you were surprised, not when your mother seemed to hate you more than Aegon.

She never understood you, only one person had.

Gwayne Hightower, your uncle.

You and he had an understanding that others could only envy, you couldn’t put it into words but ever since you had meet him you felt inexplicitly drawn to him.

And yet you had only meet him thrice.

But those three times amounted into countless letters.

When one was sent two would follow, even on the road Gwayne never failed to write.

Until now.

You were sat in your chambers and an ache in your chest as you read through the last of Gwayne letters. Near two weeks had passed since his last had arrived, and these past two weeks had been when you had needed his letters the most.

dearest niece,

Words cannot describe the joy I felt upon seeing you the other, even if only for a few hours before my departure.

You have grown ever so beautiful, and I envy those who got to watch you became the beauty you are today, though I envy them more for the endless pleasure of your company.

Who knew your wit was even more compelling in person, dear niece?

I sure did not and yet your endless humour is known what I crave as I am stuck of this endless rode with ser Criston as the most interesting of my companions.

And let me tell you he is far duller than you painted. (Not that you painted him to have much of a personality aside form swords and a love for oranges.)

Perhaps it his cockiness or the self-righteousness he has as the new lord hand, which makes his so dull. He seems to love to point out his new station to us all, especially my Hightower knights, as if that will win him any favours.

Though I truly believe he thinks himself funny, though his voice is always far to monotone to decipher what is an attempt at a joke or what is orders and commands.

Gods, I wish I had stolen you away with me, even just to share the looks at Criston ‘jokes’ as he calls them.

Honestly, he is perhaps the dullest man I have ever met, what your mother sees in him I’ll never know.

But I must admit little of my time is spent completing his joke when I cannot stop thinking of you.

Tomorrow, we ride to rook’s rest, he says he has some plan, I do not quite believe it will be a good one, but I shall prey to the seven that we will be victorious, and I may see you again.

Yours, Gwayne.

You had replied far to quickly though being locked n your chamber after yelling you would ride your dragon to meet your uncle would of course leave you with little to do.

To Gwayne,

I am truly sorry you are stuck with such a dreadful man, if I had gone with you I can assure you however there would not have been much time to dwell of Cristons joke attempts, I would steal far to much of your attention, perhaps enough were you were unable to fight in this silly little war.

I do hope your thoughts of me do not distract you too much.

I wish you great luck in at rook’s rest though I fear you may have to face Meleys, and in which case I pray my mother sees sense and allows me to ride out and join the fight on moonfyers, though I Highley doubted.

But from Aegon’s visit to my prison cell (my chamber’s), it seems he is quite egar to fight, though seeing as how the small council so easily sway his mind, I doubt he will, unless he drinks himself into a false sense of courage that is.

But I pray you do not repeat those words, especially to my mother.

I too crave for your presence; it is a misery that despite years of letters we have met thrice! And the third was only days ago.

 Perhaps when you go, we can make your visits permanent.

I pray for your victory uncle, and your next letter.

With love, your dearest niece.

You had sent that letter 12 days ago; rooks rest was 10 days ago.

Of course, the journey back must be accounted for, but no one had any news, besides the death of Meleys and the princess Rhaneys, the queen who never was.

You had rather liked her, in fact you hoped to model yourself of her in some way. Though you had no right to morn you suppose, you had never spoken to her bar the common pleasantries.

You stood starting out of the window, craving the day you could smash them down and make your escape. Though where you would go, you did not know. Before the war you had one destination in mind, oldtown. Now there was no one there for you, just as there wasn’t anyone here.

The forgotten daughter. No matter how defiant you became you would only be tolerated and ignored. Your actions simple receive a tolled eye and of course, the action of yet gain being locked in your chamber.

Perhaps if your mind hadn’t been so caught up in your loathing and thoughts of jumping from your window onto the back of moonfyers you would have noticed the door opening and the feel of hands slowly covering your eyes.

You jumped in shock as your eyes were covered, only to calm down when a voice spoke.

“Guess who?” a mans voice teased, though it was the voice you had ingrained into your memory.

“Gwayne” you breathed turning around.

He laughed as you hugged him.

“When did you get back?” you asked, arms still wrapped around him.

“Only moments ago,” he sighed, “did you miss me?” he teased.

Slapping his arm lightly, you stepped back “of course not”.

“Hmm…really?” he tilted his head, clicking his tongue, “I could have sworn your letter said- “

“Stop it!” you said hitting his shoulder again.

“Fine!” he said raising his hands up in mock surrender, “only if you top hitting my arm, your poor uncle has just fought a battle”.

You rolled your eyes “and am I to presume you were victorious uncle?”

“If you could call it that”.

“What do you mean?”

He looked nervous, an expression you had never seen on him before, “your brother Aegon- “

“Aegon went! That fool”

“a fool who got himself injured”.

“what” you asked, voice full of concern. Though an outcast, overshadowed by your twin, you still cared for him greatly, even if he never showed care for you in return.

He explained what had happened and your mind spun, no one had said a thing to you and yet your twin brother lay dying in his rooms.

“I must go see him” you rushed out, heading towards the door, only for Gwayne to grip your arm.

“Go later.” He insisted, “for now stay with me! and here my woeful tales of battle”.

Shaking your head with a laugh you sit back down, listening to tales of Gwanye’s journey and of the battle, and all thoughts of Aegon were forgotten.

You woke up finding yourself wrapped in Gwayne arms on your settee. You didn’t remember falling asleep, only talking and watching the sunset and rise once more.

It must have been past noon and yet no one had knocked or come to see you, not that they had before now.

You looked over at Gwayne, he was tired, even after hours of sleep he still had bags under his yes.  

Removing yourself from his arms slowly, you made your way out of your rooms and towards your brothers.

Aegon lay alone. The room dark and empty, bar his aching, unconscious body, half his body covered in bandages, his body deadly slit and his breath shaky.

You moved closer to the bed, coming forward and placing a soft kiss on his brow.

He may be terrible, drunken whoremonger but he was still your brother.

“Aegon” you breathed heavily, taking his unburnt hand in yours, “I- “ the doors opened, and your mother barged in, “get out!” she demanded.

“Mother, I- “you said standing up.

“Get out” she said once more, coming to sit by Aegon’s side.

Standing up and moving towards the door slowly, “he’s my brother, I have every right to be here!”

She looked at you, scoffing “that matters not, now leave and go back to your rooms”.

Rolling your eyes you left and stormed back to your rooms.

“Gwayne” you breathed, seeing him now awake and sitting up, reading a book.

“How Is Aegon” he asked, as you approached.

“a sleep? I do not know my mother sent me out only a few moments after I had entered.”

He kissed his teeth, “your mother has changed much recently”.

“Recently? She has always been liked this, with me at least”

“I know, my darling… I think she- “he stopped himself, looking at you, “I am not sure what she thinks actually, me and her where never close growing up”.

You huffed, looking over at him and realising that the book he was reading was in fact your diary.

“Is that my diary!”

“no” he said dragging out the word as he moved the book out of your reach.

“Where did you- how did you”

“Do not worry how your “beautiful and daring uncle” found it”.

You gasped, crawling over him to try and reach your diary.

He laughed, as you grasped at the book, “give it back” you insisted.

“But Gwayne would be never- “

You reached the book, slapping it out of his hand, “how much of it did you read?”

“Why did you not want me to read of how much you missed me?”

“Gwayne” you sighed, looking at him, you were practically lying on him, your hands leaning on chest as you reached for your diary of the floor.

“darling” he replied, before looking at you sadly, his hand reaching to caress your cheek, “I have to go soon”.

“To your chambers or to oldtown?” you asked sadly.

“Oldtown, I – “

You interrupted him, “when?”

“We leave after dinner, we thought it best to travel at night, out of sight of dragons”.

“I see” you said moving off of him. He reached for you, trying to draw you back towards him.

Everyone always leaves or ignored you. It seemed no matter how close you got you were so easily abandoned, never once had someone stayed.

“I would ask you to come, but your mother would never allow it” he said shaking his head.

Why would she allow it? It would make you happy and the gods know how much your mother craved your misery.

“Do you think there will ever be a time when-when we can spend limitless time together?”

“I hope so, I- “he always stopped himself from saying it, saying the one thing they both craved.

“As do I”

The rest of the day was spent together craving to spend every second that they could together, but in the end, he had to leave. He was bound by duty and honour.

Saying goodbye this time was harder than the few times before it. You both stood in the courtyard, his men stood the side, their own conversations distracting them.

Your mother having said her goodbyes, and had left the courtyard already, leaving you both to say your goodbyes.

“I hope it is not to long before I can see you again” you said looking down to thew ground and kicking at the gravel.

“As do I” Gwayne said grabbing your hand and kissing it gently.

Your eyes shared a look, a look saying everything you both couldn’t.

“I’ll miss you” you breathed heavily, eyes never leaving his.

you both stepped closer, now inches apart.

You moved your lips to kiss his cheek, only for Gwayne to move his head and capture your lips with his, in a soft delicate kiss.  

The shadows of the keep kept you had hidden from wandering eyes as you kissed.

It was short but sweet and left you both wanting more as he was forced to step back from you.

He whispered softly “I will think of you, always”.

“As will I” you said, reaching into you hem and pulling out your handkerchief, you had sown the initial of your name and his ono it, and placed it in the palm of his hand.

Closing is hand you softly placed a kiss onto it.

“goodbye” he spoke, before moving to his horse and riding off, sending you a final look before he left.

The days tricked by, blurring together. Aegon’s recovering slow and with little change.

You stayed in your room, much to your mother’s delight.

Letters were exchanged between you and Gwayne. But this time the letters seemed different, this time they were bolder, your feelings no longer hidden.

Dearest,

I left you only moments ago and yet I miss you already.

That kiss was everything and more, I cannot believe it took us so long to do it, even of it happened by a mistake.

I am sorry our reunion was so brief, and I wish I was bound to you and not duty.

I shall write again soon, but in the meantime, I hope the thought of you in my thoughts will tide you over.

Yours, Gwyane.

Dear Gwayne,

You just left my side and yet apart of me left with you.

I hope your thoughts are filled with me as mine are of you.

The walk back to my room was a long one, longer than it had ever taken me as I had to drag myself away from you, away from moonfyers as thoughts of chasing after you filled my mind.

My mind was a mess all night, much to my mother’s disappointment. Though I doubt she noticed my mind was with you and not in the keep.

This morrow I was awoken absurdly early and summoned to the small council!

And before you say anything I am not sure as to why, even after attending it.

I seemed to be there as a way to boost Aemond’s moral? Or should I say the prince regents.

I was simple them to watch plans be made, and to be told of an alliance, a marriage between me and some lords son, I believe some Tully.

I refused and they demanded.

I offered my dragon, they refused, and I demanded.

They claimed a woman in battle would only lead to a loss. Even if moonfyers is bigger than most for her age and even rivals Caraxes.

Anything else was ignored and dismissed and I was quickly ushered to my chambers and forced to plan a wedding.

A wedding I wish was with you.

I do not know what to do, uncle.

Please tell me to come to you, and I will.

Yours always.

My love,

The days are endlessly long, and I find myself craving you by myside more than ever.

You chase my every though both awake and asleep.

And forgive me for beings bold, niece, but I can, no will not hold back what I have longed to crave any longer.

I wished I had placed you upon my horse and ridden of with you into the night, defying your mother and brothers’ commands.

But I want you, more than I need air to breath. And for so long I have defied myself and held back my desires, my love for you.

I beg you, come to me.

Forget their plans and demands, come to me and marry me.

I am set to arrive in old town in two days, leaving you plenty of time to come to me.

With love, Gwyane.

To Gwyane,

I will come to you, it may take a few days, but I cannot stay here. And I will not stay away from you any longer.

With love, your heart.

you sat in your chambers, contemplation how you to leave.

Though there were secret passageways in your room, you had never used them. They were like a labyrinth in truth and the one time you had speed in them you feared you would get lost.

And the guards stationed outside of your door were stationed for the exact reason you were event you were currently planning.

your other would never let you go willingly, not now especially.

But then again you doubted she would notice you were gone, at least for a day or two.

Heleana may notice, but she wouldn’t say a thing.

Aemond had just been given what he always wanted and would flaunt his power as much as he could, meaning he’d keep put of your way, in fear you would ‘act up’, as he called it, and embarrass him.

This meant that the guards were your only issue, and perhaps Larys spy’s. though you cared not for them for what could they do to stop you? Tattle to Larys who would sell the information for the sight of your mother’s feet? Even then you would have a few hours.

Luckly for you however, you knew your guards. And they had a penchant for wine.

“Steffon, Gregor” you whispered opening your door a bottle of Dornish red in hand.

“Princess” they nodded, tuning around to ignore you.

“You must be bored” you started, “perhaps you can join me for a drink?” you said, fluttering your eyelashes.

They turned to face each other unsure of what to do, “oh come on, know one will care. You’ll still be guarding me, won’t you?”

Their eyes wandered to the bottle of wine “is that the only bottle, princess?”

You scoffed, “of course not”.

They smiled and ushered you in to your chamber.

It was funny, you must have done this a dozen time before and they still fell for it every time.

And being such lightweights, they were quick to fall into a drunken sleep, allowing you to grab your bag and make a run for the dragon pit.

Running through the streets of Kingslanding at night were dan, especially in your rich clothes and jewels.         

And seeing as you had only walked to the dragon pit once or twice, with the company of a dozen guards, the run was a lot longer than expected.

Getting lost in the never-ending streets of flea bottom was easy, and before you knew it you had somehow ended up on the streets of silk.

“gods” you mumbled, looking around in search of a sign to lead you in the right direction.

You could see the dragon pit, so at least you weren’t too far away, only issue is the brothel with the name ‘Chantaya’s’ seemed to stand in the way of a quick exit.

“sister” you heard someone say, and the sight of Aemond exiting said brothel, through you into a sprint once again.

You were sure you looked like some pick pocket as you ran through the street, Aemond hot on your tale.

And with being such a stranger to kings landing you found yourself meeting an end and Aemond catching up to you.

“Let go of me” you muttered trying to pull yourself free from Aemond’s grasp.

“Who let you out” he sneered.

“Does it matter?” you sneered in return, “what are you even doing here?” you asked, and Aemond face dropped.

“I could ask you the same”.

“I wanted to go to the dragon pit” “the dragon pit” he reiterated, not believing you. “To what? Declare for the usurper?”

“Gods no” you near yelled, “I- “you were hesitant to tell him, having never got on along with him and never having much to say to him at all, this was honestly the most you and he had spoken since the start of the war. “I wish to go to oldtown”.

“why”

“To…to see Gwyane”.

“Our uncle?”

“Do you know of another Gwyane I could possibly wish to see in oldtown?” you said snidely.

He hummed, looking at you with a smirk, “I am your prince regent, I command you know” he said, “one word from me and I could have you locked in the black cells, or I could command you to go to oldtown to gather forces, with Gwayne”

You hated that you looked at him hopeful and hated even more that if he asked you would beg.

“But why, dear sister? Should I command you to oldtown? You are the future lady Tully after all”.

You scoffed, “oh please, we both know the Tullys are hardly loyal now and the second old Grover Tully dies they’ll declare for the black’s”.

“true”

“And why would you want me here anyway? I do not listen, and I defy your every move, sending me a way would better your rule, would it not?”

“Oh sister, you truly have been undervalued. Fine I shall take you to the dragon pit and order you to oldtown.”

Order you? As if there was a single part of you that did not already crave to be there, with him.

The walk to the dragon pit was a quiet and awkward, with Aemond pulling you by the hand, a tight grip as if you would try to escape.

Not a word was exchanged even as you entered, only your words commanding the dragon keepers to fetch you moonfyers and Aemond stood beside you in his usual stance.

He gave you a taunting wave as you took flight, and you never looked back.

It took five hours for you to reach oldtown.

A storm thundered as you entered the reach, rain dowsing your and obstructing your vison. Had it not been for the bright blue scales of your brother’s dragon, Tesserion you were sure you would have flown into the Hightower.

Landing, you were quickly greeted with guards and the face of your brother Daeron.

“Brother” you greeted as you slide of your dragon, “a pleasure to see you!”

“And you, Gwayne said you were coming” he nodded, hand raised to stop rain pouring over his face, “come in, quickly”

The Hightower, was exactly as you envisioned, filled with riches and symbols of the seven. It looked like a museum almost.

You were brough into a room lined with seats and walls filled with books. Painting filled with the faces of old lords and ladies, and tapestry depicting Aegon s landing in oldtown and his coronation.

“niece” you heard a voice breath, causing your inspection to come to a halt as you turned and faced Gwayne,

“uncle” you breathed in return and not a moment later were you running into his arms and your lips meeting once more.

This kiss was different than the one in the courtyard, this one was filled with longing, filled with pure love and desire.

Years of want filling you mouths your lips moved against each other.

“Gwayne” you whispered against his lips, as you both breathed heavily, your heads leant against each others.

He whispered your name in return, “you came” he breathed, not quite believing it.

“of course, you asked…and the prince regent commanded it”

He laughed “what?”

“when I was making my mistake i came across Aemond leaving a brothel” you laughed, “and somehow he decided to command me to oldtown to gather forces”

“oh?” he said, head tilting, “I see…does that mean you now command me?”

“do I not anyway?” you asked tauntingly.

He laughed, grabbing you to him once more and pulling you into another kiss, “I believe we command each other, my love” he said breaking the kiss.

“my love?”

“my love” he agreed, caressing your cheek, “I love you” he finally admitted.

And you smiled. Looking at him as he always looked at you.

He always had seen you, understood you when no one else did.

And the look in his yes, it was pure love and you had never felt more seen than in this moment.

“I love you” you replied, and he smiled.

“come with me” he said taking your hand and leading you up to his room.

His room, though perhaps smaller than others, was still large and full of all things Gwayne. With his own mural and tapestry.

“do you like it?” he asked, taking note of your eyes that had not left the tapestry he had commissioned.

“is that?” you asked, unsure if you were seeing it right.

“Moonfyer and you, yes”

“gods, Gwyane” you said breathlessly, a mural of you riding moonfyers for the first time, your second time meeting Gwyane and the first time you and he realised the bond between you both.

You turned to face him, and kissed him once more.

Unlike before this kiss was heated, passionate and full of lust.                                                                                                 

His hands moved to your waist, as you slowly moved towards the bed, your hands reaching and pulling at his clothes, taking them of and leaving him in only his small clothes.

Your dress wet and soaked was quickly torn of you intern, leaving you only in your soaked chemise.

Their lips broke apart as her legs hit the bed. Taking each other in Gwayne moaned at the sight of your breast peeking out through the now sheer chemise.

“can i?” Gwayne breathed, hand coming to toy with the strap of your chemise.

You nodded, allowing your chemise to slip and leaving you bare before him.

“gods” he breathed, “ you are beautiful” he said, before pushing you down on the bed, his lips connecting with yours.

His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, nipping at your skin, causing you to moan softly.

He kissed his way down your body, before he reached your cunt.

“can i?” he asked once more, eager to taste her cunt.

“yes”  you said, not quite sure what he intended to do until you felt his nose nudge between your thighs and a slow lick alone the length of your cunt.

groaning at the taste, he quickly went back licking and tasting your cunt, like a man starved. You moaned pleasure, hands moving to tug his hair as he found your clit.

Touching yourself had never felt like this, the sheer pleasure you felt as he sucked your clit into his mouth was better than any orgasm you had brought yourself to before, even more so when you felt his fingers toying with your entrance.

You tensed as his fingers entered you. They were thicker and longer than your own and you started to feel the stretch as he pumped you full of his two fingers.

You moaned, your body moving off the bed as you his fingers pumped in and out.

His hand moved to your waist gripping you down as he continued to fill you, your moans filling the room as his third finger entered you and you soon reached your peak.

He slowly backed away from you, pulling down his small clothes to revel his hard, thick cock.

“oh!” you spoke, at the sight of him.

“oh? Not good enough niece?” he asked teasingly.

“gods, it, yes” you nodded, reaching out to him.

He laughed, before slowly crawling onto the bed, his body covering yours. Taking your lips his, in a passionate and heated kiss, as his legs slowly parted yours as he positioned himself at her entrance.

“Are you sure?” he breathed against your lips, hand holding your waist as his cock teased your entrance.

You nodded, reaching forward to kiss him again, “yes”.

At the word he entered you slowly.

You groaned at the stretch but found no pain as he entered you.

His long cock filling you, a bulge appearing in your stomach as he allowed time for you to adjust.

“gods, you feel amazing” he groaned, moving his head to the nape of your neck “can I move?” he groaned, as your walls wrapped around him.

Nodding, “yes” you breathed. And wasting no time he began to slowly pump in and out of you.

You moaned as he thrusted into you, your hips moving to meet his as he picked up the pace.

He groaned at the feel of you moving against him, has hands gripping your waist as he started to thrust into you faster, he soon found that sweet spot inside you, that quickly turned you into a moaning mess. And soon you were wrapping your arms around him, clawing at his back as you felt your peak it washes over you and the feel if his seed filling you.

Your breath was heavy, his even heavier as he lay on you, his face still in your neck leaving soft kisses as he started to move of you slightly.

“marry me” he said, giving you soft kisses between his words. “this place is filled with septon’s it will be easy to find one to marry us.”

“okay” you said, looking into his yes.

“okay?”

You laughed, “yes, Gwyane I will marry you.”

taglist

@apollonshootafar @flrboyd @theanxietyqueen17 @dark-night-sky-99 @zillahvathek @leavesmealobe @winter-soldier-101 @bunbunbl0gs @ka1afbr @tesha-i-guess @aemondwhoresworld @RAYNE TARGARYEN 2 @littlebirdgot @eddieslut69 @beebeechaos @jennifer0305 @rosedurin @berightback1409 @barnes70stark @cloboboo @aegonswife @nessjo @helo1281917 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @perla434 @lilah102-blog @scorpiosmalfoy @random-human02 @f1wh0recom

to be added to taglist