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ja3yun · 5 days ago

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On the Roof || S.JY

stranger!jake x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (f.rec), cream pie, fingering, marking and biting, sex with a stranger, weirdly fluffy, petnames (princess, baby), mentions of bad relationships with parents, alcohol, comforting, do not have sex with strangers you meet on a roof, not proofread, anything else lmk! w.c: 9.7k synopsis: when you stumble across a boy on your apartment rooftop, you can't help but invite him to stay. a/n: hi! it's me. this is my first work back and honestly, it's not great but i just needed to get back in the swing of things so please be kind. I missed you guys a lot and the time away was exactly what i needed. thank you all for understanding, and i love you unconditionally!

The winter air tickles your senses as you push open the large, unfairly heavy door to your complex’s rooftop. It might be bitter, but it’s welcomed - your body creating unnecessary heat from both the walk up the three flights of stairs and the discomfort of your day.

Your shift was hard, too hard. Considering it’s a brand new year, you had stupidly thought that people would be a lot nicer to public service workers, yet you were proven wrong. With countless patients’ loved ones screaming down the phone to you, doctors barking demands at you because they see you as lesser than them, and not to mention the one man who decided that spitting in your face was a rational reaction to you politely telling him that he can’t see his grandmother who was in the middle of an operation.

Safe to say, you’ve had better shifts as a hospital receptionist.

But there was always one place you could count on to take a deep breath and reset. The rooftop. It’s quiet, overlooks the city, and helps you put into perspective that murder is not the answer to your life problems. But sometimes, God, you wish it was…

Gravel crunches beneath your feet as you make your way to the chairs you so perfectly placed underneath the solar-charged fairy lights, which hang half-arsed off the unused 1990 aerials. It’s not really how you would like to decorate the place, if you had it your way, you would have it looking reminiscent of the rooftop from Wish You, the same one you committed to memory as Lee Sang kissed In Soo for the first time. But since you’re not even supposed to have access to this part of the building, you’ll count the pathetic attempt at creating sanctuary as a win.

The lights guide you to your seat when you see a figure hunched over, one hand holding a beer and the other holding his head. This is not what you were expecting to see. No one comes up here, not past 10pm anyway. There is one neighbour who occupies the premises when he needs a smoke without his wife knowing, but he works the night shift. So this person is new.

“Um,” you begin, clearing your throat ever so softly to alert them of your presence without giving them an acute heart attack. “Hi?”

Their head jolts up from their hand, eyes wide and face shocked. Clearly, they didn’t expect to have company tonight either.

You focus on the figure in front of you – a boy, no older than yourself – scrutinising his features with a careful eye. As a woman, being vigilant around unfamiliar men has become second nature, an unfortunately ingrained habit of self-preservation you have mastered since before you can remember. So, your mind ticks through the usual checklist: is there a need to run? Are your shoulders getting that deep tingle that crawls up to your jaw? Is your gut making you want to vomit? None of those alarm bells ring. Instead, you’re met with something else entirely - uncertainty, maybe even sympathy.

The boy seems…fine, at least on the surface. No initial gut-wrenching unease claws at your insides. Emboldened by the absence of any red flags, you take another ginger step closer, studying him in detail.

His large, tired brown eyes peer out from behind thick-rimmed glasses, the weight of exhaustion evident. The glasses sit securely on his pretty thick nose. His lips, naturally full and a muted pink, are set in a neutral line, though the light could be softening their actual colour - it’s hard to tell beneath the hood’s shadow. Greasy, near-black hair clings to his forehead, unkempt but thick.

His outfit doesn’t fare much better to be honest; a mishmash of layers that hints at desperation more than deliberation. Faded grey jeans hang loose and crinkled, clearly worn more than once without a wash. Over a white t-shirt sits a black hoodie, topped off with a jacket far too big for him, the kind of size that suggests it doesn’t belong to him at all. The entire image strikes you in a way that leaves concern pricking all over your chest.

Steeling yourself, you step closer again, your voice soft but firm. “Are you okay?” The question is sincere, meant to come across as a kind gesture - like when you let a cat sniff around your hand before you just go in for the pet. Your eyes meet his, offering as much warmth as you can muster. There’s something about the way he sits, cold and crumpled, that pulls at your humanity.

At first, his expression flickers, betraying something fragile beneath the surface. But it doesn’t last. In an instant, his jaw sets, and his shoulders square in a defensive shift. His cheeks hollow as his tongue presses against them, words unspoken but clearly brewing. The moment hangs in the air, heavy and awkward.

It’s as if your simple question has poked at a bruise, tender and raw. You’ve touched something buried, and for reasons you can’t yet work out, his reaction irks you. Of all things to take issue with, why this? What on earth had he expected - for you not to ask a very valid question? Perhaps it’s the day you’ve had that’s caused the unnecessary offence on your behalf.

He averts his gaze, the connection between you severed. Instead, he tips back the beer bottle in his hand, his focus shifting to the cityscape below. The quiet glug of liquid slipping down his throat is the only response you get, and it grates against the care you offered.

A flicker of irritation sparks within you. Perhaps it’s the brush-off, or maybe it’s the contradiction in his actions. He’s sitting here in your space, looking like the embodiment of a cry for help, yet recoils at the smallest act of kindness. Still, you don’t back down. Instead, you shift your weight and tilt your head, keeping your tone neutral but unwavering.

“Fine, If you don’t want to talk, that’s sound,” you say, folding your arms against the cold. “But sitting out here, looking like the world’s chewed you up and spat you out…people are going to ask questions like ‘are you okay’ or ‘what’s the matter’. Just saying.” You huff out and follow his gaze to the city. People are having a much better day than you out there, and envy jabs at you.

For a moment, you think he’ll continue ignoring you; his shoulders remain tense, his grip on the bottle firm. But then he sighs, the sound long and weary, like air escaping a deflating balloon, one being pinched and controlled. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough, a surprising Australian accent whistling through the wind.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, though the words lack conviction. His eyes remain fixed on the horizon, steadfastly avoiding yours.

“You’re a terrible liar,” you counter, letting a small, dry smile tug at your lips. “And you’re also not allowed up here.”

A tense silence follows, broken only by the chug of a train in the far distance. It’s not exactly comfortable, but neither is it unbearable. You find yourself wondering who he is and what’s brought him to this specific rooftop.

“You can’t get up here unless you’re a tenant,” you blurt out, trying to get any morsel of information from him. You figure the quicker you find out what he’s doing here, the quicker you can find a solution for him to leave and then have your safe space back to yourself. You might have sympathy for him, clearly having a hard time of life, but so are you - and your comfort outweighs a total stranger who can’t even bother to look your way.

“Okay,” he says bored, sipping his beer again.

“That’s your invitation to either tell me that you moved in recently, or, your queue to leave because you’re trespassing.”

“Invitation declined.”

He is so rude, you think to yourself, though you wonder whether you should just call him out for it and at least gain some reaction for him.

Instead, you park yourself in the seat next to him, huffing as you drop down. “Well I’m not leaving until you do,” you state matter-of-factly, attempting to not let his presence ruin your mood even further. You suppose, if he sits and shuts up, you can at least pretend he isn’t here invading your space.

Though technically, you’re invading his, but you get the idea.

The boy side-eyes you, a small, angry smirk etching onto his cold rosey face. “Yeah? Well, you’re gonna be here for a long fucking time.” He spits his words out, frustration laced within each syllable, though you can tell it’s not directed towards you. The boy is so far in his own head that you begin to realise that any discontentment he might have has less to do with you and your presence, and more to do with the reason he’s hibernating on your rooftop.

So, you sit back, and leave him be. To be honest, you’ve dealt with far worse and crabbier people today, in comparison, this boy is like rainbows and kittens.

Closing your eyes, you let the white noise of the night take over you, infiltrating all your tension and disdain towards the day, and settling you into a comfortable silence. The fairy lights above add a serene atmosphere that you crave after work, the faint lights providing some fake warmth. They were not easy to get up there, but a few falls and tangles later, you realised that all the scrapes and twirls were worth it.

The hooded boy beside you peaks over, finally taking you in as more than an inconvenience. He notices how you breathe in deep, exhaling with a sigh of relief and a cloud of warmth that combats the freezing air.

It doesn’t take him a minute to realise that you’ve had a bad day too, and a pang of guilt hits him. He’s being unfair to you when you probably just want to relax under the night sky and here he is taking up space.

He takes up too much space.

Reaching down at his feet, he picks up a bottle of beer from his case, the clinking not even disturbing your quest for serenity. He pokes your thigh with the bottom of the bottle, gaining your attention. When your eyes meet once again, there’s a sorrowful look on his face, the alcohol a form of apology for being an arsehole. It’s an apology you’ll gladly accept.

“You look like you could use it,” he murmurs, offering a tight smile as he waits for you to take the brown glass bottle.

You wrap your hand around the base and lift it up in thanks. “I could use ten sambucas and a pint of tequila to wash them down,” you snort out a sarcastic chuckle, beginning to unscrew the cap. You need to thank whatever genius decided that bottle openers were too much hassle and gave people a much easier and more practical way to open a bottle of beer. You hope they’re having a good night.

The boy lets out a laugh, short but genuine, raising his own bottle to his lips. “That bad, huh?” he asks, voice muffled slightly by the glass.

“It gets like that,” you shrug, taking a long pull from the bottle, barely savouring the taste, routing around for the effects of calmness that it will bring rather than its pallet. “Comes with working in a hospital.”

He raises an eyebrow, curiosity momentarily overriding his gloom “Nurse?”

“Receptionist.” You correct him, hissing out as you absorb the alcohol. Beer is not your favourite taste, a Sex on the Beach is much more appealing, but you would down a tank of gasoline if it meant you could get rid of this stress.

He sucks in an empathetic breath, whistling low as he leans back against the seat. “Yeah, you need a gun, not alcohol.”

The comment catches you off guard, and for the first time in what feels like weeks, you laugh - really laugh. It bursts out of you, raw and unrestrained, carrying away the weight of the day. Life isn’t inherently awful, but it’s lonely sometimes. Working back shift in the hospital makes it hard to keep friends or any semblance of a social life. The most interaction you get that isn’t disgruntled patients or angry phone calls is on twitter with your online friends, but even then, it’s a rise-and-repeat conversation cycle of ‘for real’ and ‘same’ replies to posts you make about Jang Kyungho when no one is looking.

Not exactly the deep human connection that people need.

So this, being able to laugh and have a bit of understanding for even a second, is comforting. It almost makes you feel bad for cursing the boy out in your head.

Smiling, you extend a hand to him, “Y/N.”

He hesitates for a fraction of a second before taking it. “Jaeyun,” he replies, offering you a smile in return. It’s faint but sincere, a crack in the armour he’s wearing so tightly.

As he grips your hand in his, you feel the ice-coldness on his skin, a clear indicator that he has been up here for quite some time. Or at least out in the open air. It only makes you more intrigued - and with him being a little slither more open with you, you decide to take the nugget and run with it.

So you talk, and talk, and talk. It feels like forever but it’s actually only two hours. Not a lot is said, but you learn some things about him; hobbies, interests, friends, his favourite TV shows and Films. All surface-level stuff, yet it feels like you’re speaking to an old friend. He learns about you too - the same stuff, with added anecdotes about working in a hospital.

But there is one thing that you are dying to know.

“So,” you begin, twisting your patio chair to face him fully, the legs scraping along the asphalt of the roof. “You can guess I’m here after a bad shift…why are you here?” Your face is expectant, waiting for an answer while you drink your beer.

But Jaeyun’s face is overcome with a flash of rage, partly due to your question, but more the fact that your question made him think about the reason he is here. Though, as quickly as his face shows agitation, it dissipates just as fast. Instead, he opts for an obtuse response. “Just wanted to enjoy the view. That’s all.”

“Couldn’t do that from your own building, no?” you tease lightly, humour softening the prodding tone. But your persistence nudges too close to something real. “Oh... did your girlfriend kick you out?” The words tumble out before you can stop them, too sharp and intrusive.

Unfortunately, it’s a habit of yours to be so nosey that it comes off inconsiderate or produces ill-timed questions. In this instance, it’s both.

His grip tightens on the neck of the bottle. The knuckles whiten, the tension visible. For a moment, he studies the label, reading the same ingredients over and over as if they hold the secret to life's greatest mystery - what happened on that fishing trip in Gavin and Stacey.

“My parents did. Yeah.” His confession is sharp, devoid of emotion

Your stomach drops. “Oh...” It’s all you manage, guilt prickling at the edges of your thoughts. You’re so stupid for poking Y/N! You inwardly scold yourself. Obviously, this issue is so much bigger than you can process. Still, your mouth will continue to flap around.

“Yep.” He pops the p with bitter precision, his tone teetering on the edge of sarcasm. “Apparently, I need to ‘get my act together.’” He says with accompanying quotation marks from his fingers.

“As in?”

“As in I need to be their perfect little boy and follow in my brother’s footsteps - be a lawyer.” The words fall flat, heavy with resentment.

Nodding along, the pieces form enough for you to make your own solid conclusions. “And I guess you don’t want that?”

“Fuck no.” Jaeyun scoffs out a bitter laugh. “I’m more likely to need a lawyer than be one.”

“Ohhh a bad boy huh?” you wiggle your brows, trying to interject some semblance of humour into the moment while sussing him out, to lighten his load even just a smidge. You can’t begin to imagine what his parents said or did to him once he rejected their concept of a perfect life, and you don’t really want him to dwell on it right now either.

He laughs despite himself, a quiet sound that momentarily lightens his expression. “Maybe.” It’s a noncommittal answer, but he seems content to let you spin your own version of events.

Honestly, he is not bad in any shape or form. But when he says he would need a lawyer rather than being one, he means that that career is so absurd that even a goody too shoes like him is more likely to get in trouble before he stands in a suit.

He just wants to live his life without this great expectation, without people demanding he ‘do better’ when he knows he is doing just fine; he’s in a great University, studying music and production, and has a decent part-time job at the record store, which isn’t loads of money, but enough for him to pay his mum and dad digs and still have a life outside their constraints. He’s doing fine, or so he believes.

But fine isn’t enough for his parents. Their love towards their own son is tied to the weight of their expectations, ones he can’t - or won’t - carry.

“So they just…kicked you out?” you ask carefully, noting the sorrow in his features as he turns the events of the past few months in his head. Sympathy creeps back into your chest, any lingering annoyance dissipating along with the last sips of your beer.

“Yeah,” he confirms, sighing and shrugging. “It’s fine.”

“Are you staying with friends or…” You don’t finish the question because you’re scared of the answer; the dishevelled clothes and hair are enough to semi-confirm.

Jaeyun looks up, his gaze catching the glimmer of the fairy lights, their soft glow reflected in his dark irises. “I was, until a few days ago. You can only couch-hop for so long before people start to feel like you’re intruding.”

He holds no malice towards his friends, no bitterness in his tone, and honestly, his best friend Sunghoon said he could stay for as long as it took him to save up for an apartment of his own. But he doesn’t want to take advantage of his kindness, the boy already doing more for him than most would have. Even Jay, his other friend, offered to loan him the money for the first month's rent on a flat uptown.

But Jaeyun’s pride wouldn’t allow him to take advantage of their kindness. He would manage on his own, no matter how hard it got.

Seeing the pity in your eyes, he waves his hand to brush off your concern. “It’s fine, I’ve scraped up enough money to get rent now. I just need to find a place,” he smiles softly, appreciative of your sympathy even if he doesn’t want it. “I’ll be fine. I’m going looking tomorrow.”

There’s a sense of relief that his words bring you. Although his predicament isn’t ideal right now, it looks like it could be on the turnaround, and for that, you’re thankful.

“If it’s only for one night, do you want my couch?” The offer spills out before you can stop it, surprising even yourself.

Jaeyun laughs heartedly, eyebrows knitting in disbelief and amusement. “You’re fucking stupid.”

“Huh?!” you exclaim in shock. It’s not really the response you were expecting. A yes? Sure. A no? Absolutely. But an insult to punctuate your act of kindness was a curveball.

Sitting up straight, he places his beer on the ground, an amused smile softening his features. “I’m a random man you’ve known for a couple of hours. I could do anything to you in your own home, and you don’t seem the slightest bit worried about that.”

Okay, maybe he has a massive point. You don’t know him and he could literally attack you at any moment. And considering earlier you had to assess him before approaching, it shows that you do have the common sense not to let him stay with you.

But he poses no threat, none whatsoever. He’s just a boy in a fucked up situation, and your kind heart can’t see him freeze; god knows how many nights he’s been out. He’s already reminiscent of Jack Dawson turning into a block of iced body parts.

“Well, you won’t right?” You throw the question back to him. “I mean, to be honest, I’ve let men in my bed for a lot less than a tiny conversation and a beer.”

As soon as the words tumble out of your mouth, your cheeks flush to match his cold ones, neck tingling in embarrassment. You’ve just confessed that your standards are abysmally low - you’ve slept with men who didn’t even have the decency to buy you a drink nevermind learn your name.

Jaeyun stifles a laugh, rubbing at his eye. “For your pride, I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.” The smile on his face is so beautiful that you’re caught off guard a little. Now you wish he was one of the men you let roll around on top of you for a compliment and a ride home.

His expression shifts, returning to a more serious note, though the smile lingers. “Seriously, Y/N. Thank you for the offer, but I only have” - he glances at his watch - “six hours before sunrise anyway.”

“Seriously, it’s no trouble-”

“I’m serious too,” he interrupts gently, slouching back into his seat. “You should go in. It’s cold, and after the day you’ve had, you need sleep.”

“I-”

“Y/N.” His tone is firm but not unkind. “I’m fine. Go. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

His refusal stings in a strange way, the rejection of your kindness more personal than it should feel. But you know better than to argue with someone so resolute. It never ends well. So, with a resigned nod, you down the last of your beer and stand.

“Okay,” you reply, setting the empty bottle aside. “I’m in 4A if you change your mind. I can grab some blankets? Pillows?”

Jaeyun places a hand over his heart, a soft smile gracing his lips. “Thank you, Y/N. Truly. But I promise I’ll survive.”

And so, you leave him there, your heart tugging at you to insist, to argue, to make him take shelter in your tiny flat. But your feet keep moving, respecting his wishes.

As you reach the door, you glance back one last time, the words caught in your throat. You just hope he’ll be okay.

_____

The rain lashes, jolting you awake. It’s not the pretty white noise rain that you enjoy, it sounds like hundreds of tiny little pebbles being pelted at your window. Strange. It was forecast as clear skies until at least Tuesday.

You blink groggily, groaning at the interruption. You can’t have been asleep for more than two hours - if that. Begrudged, you turn your back to the outside, shielding yourself from the rain that cannot attack you. Yet, an unsettling feeling stews in the bottom of your stomach, the kind that makes your heart beat faster and your mouth gain moisture.

It’s not uncommon for you to have random spouts of anxiety, all your life you’ve suffered from it, but this isn’t your typical ‘my brain is going to bring up that one time I peed myself in primary 2 and had to be sent home’ anxiety. This is something more.

Fuck.

Jaeyun.

The thought hits you like a bolt of lightning and your body moves before your mind can catch up. You fling off your pastel pink duvet, slide your feet into your beloved fuzzy slippers, and throw on a housecoat to cover your half-naked form. If you had the right mindset and not half asleep and half in panic, you would have grabbed a rain jacket and some trainers instead.

Thought, without thinking about your own state, the chilly air cuts at your skin as you make your way to the roof. The rain, now mixed with hail, pelts down hard, each sting enhancing your concern. Your eyes roam around near the seated area, one of your hands shielding your eyes from the brutal hailstones, each one nipping your hand in anger.

"Jaeyun?" you shout, your voice cutting through the storm, only to be drowned out by the constant rain. You get closer to the seats and see nothing. Panic overwhelms you, hot and stifling. "Are you still here?"

As you spin around, your eyes finally land on him. He’s slumped up against the rooftop enclosure which acts as a headboard to an uncomfortable concrete bed. His jacket and hoodie are doing as much to protect him as a candyfloss blanket, each soaked through and clinging to his skin. How can he sleep like this? It makes you wonder if he lied about just how long he had stopped couch-crashing and living out in the open.

Quickly, you drop to your knees beside him, ignoring the puddle that entrenchs your legs, and place your hand on his shoulder as you shake him awake. “Jaeyun?” you bellow, loud enough for him to startle awake and instantly put a guard up.

“Huh?” he mumbles, voice thick with confusion.

“Come on, I’m not leaving you up here,” you inform. This time, it isn’t a question but a demand. You have too much compassion to willingly leave him up here any longer.

Jaeyun’s eyes squint through his water-splattered glasses as he takes in your figure. “Y/N? What the fuck are you doing? You’re soaked,” he states the obvious, yet oblivious to his own state. “Go back inside.”

“Not without you,” you fire back. “Grab your things.”

“But-”

“Either that or I stay up here with you,” you cut him off, voice firm though only kindness shines through.

You can see the conflict in his face, his concern for your drenched state outweighing his stubbornness. He sighs, defeated, and finally nods. “Fine.”

If there is one thing Jaeyun hates to be is a burden, but it seems no matter what happens, he will inconvenience you in some way - might as well choose the drier option.

Standing upright, you extend a hand, offering him some help up, but he refuses. Instead, he grabs the duffle beside him and clumsily gets up, following you down and into your apartment.

As soon as he walks into the warmth, his bones leap with excitement and his shoulders relax in contentment. You flick on the lights which allows him a better view of your personal space. And it is exactly how he imagined it.

Your walls are covered in art and photos of you and your friends, lyric posters from bands he has never even heard of, and a shrine to TO1 in the corner. It’s cosy, lived in, and he feels a massive pang of envy.

“You can use my shower,” you say while subconsciously tidying up, removing the cups and wine glasses that have piled on the coffee table. “Luckily for you, I like wearing guy’s clothes on my period so I’ll see what I can find to fit you.”

“Seriously, Y/N. I’ll just, dry off with a towel or something, No Stress.” He doesn’t like the fuss but he can’t deny he doesn’t feel a little fuzzy as you make space for him.

Scoffing, you turn around with a perplexed look on your face. “A towel? Jaeyun, you’re soaked to the bone. You need a shower and then you can have a towel, okay?”

A grateful grin adorns the boy’s face as he takes his shoes off. “Okay. Thank you, Y/N. Seriously.” Jaeyun nods, clutching his damp duffle as he trudges towards the bathroom.

You point out the way, adding a quick, “Towels are on the rack, and there’s shampoo, soap, and more in there. Just use whatever you need, okay?”

With another muttered thank you, he waddles to your bathroom, suddenly enthralled with how the night has panned out. It’s been a while since he had a decent shower, and the ones in the Uni’s lockeroom are made more for a quick wash down than a deep cleanse.

As he disappears into the bathroom, you let out a sigh, glancing around your apartment. It isn’t a mess by your standards, but you suddenly feel self-conscious about the clutter. Usually, when people are up, it’s those who are either only making their way to your bedroom or those who do not care and have known you long enough to understand that you like a bit of mess.

A messy home is a home loved.

The sound of running water echoes from the bathroom, and you take the moment to rummage through your wardrobe. You pull out a pair of joggies and an oversized hoodie that has seen you coming every cycle for the past three years. You can’t get much more comfort than these. They’ll be a bit loose on his slim frame, but they’re warm and dry.

Speaking of which, you glance down at your own rain-soaked state, grimacing. The slippers squelch faintly with each step, and the damp housecoat clings unpleasantly to your skin. Without hesitation, you pull out a baggy t-shirt and some old pyjama shorts, slipping into them after quickly drying off your hair with a towel that’s close by. It’s not inherently clean, but it serves its purpose, so that’s good for now.

Satisfied, you place the clothes Jaeyun will borrow on the sofa before heading to the kitchen. The kettle hums to life as the storm outside continues its symphony, the hail getting more dangerous and cutthroat. A hot cup of tea feels like just the thing to chase away the chill, after all, there’s little problems in life that a good cuppa can’t fix.

Just as you reach for the tea bags, the creak of the bathroom door pulls your attention.

Jaeyun steps out, his damp hair falling messily over his forehead, droplets of water glistening on his skin. A towel sits promiscuously low on his hips, and despite yourself, your gaze trails downward. The delicate silver chain around his neck catches the light, the cross pendant resting at eye level with his pretty brown nipples. Your eyes wander further, taking in the faint definition of his toned abs, the subtle dip hinting at a v-line. And his cock is outlined perfectly to give you an idea of his size and width but you can tell it still doesn’t do him justice.

You realise with a jolt that your mouth is slightly open, and the train of your thoughts is taking a decidedly inappropriate detour. Heat rushes to your cheeks as your mind conjures up scenarios you’d never admit aloud. A pang of guilt follows swiftly - this boy has been through hell, and he’s come to you for solace, not to be gawked at.

“Sorry,” Jaeyun says, breaking the spell. His voice is soft, a mix of embarrassment and strange pride, as he catches your lingering stare. “I’ll get dressed. I just…didn’t know where the clothes were.”

“Oh!” You clear your throat and nod toward the sofa, purposefully keeping your gaze above his shoulders. “Yep, just there. Help yourself. I think they’ll fit.”

As he moves to retrieve the clothes, you busy yourself with literally anything else - studying the ceiling, adjusting the kettle, anything to avoid the moment and stop trying to catch glimpses of his cock.

You don’t hear the rustling of clothes though, instead, you just hear yourself breathing, which piques your interest. Why isn’t he changing?

Subtly, your eyes glance over to him and then you see it, the look on his face as he stares at the clothes. You’ve had that look before too, the one that comes with the mixed feelings of disbelief, shame, sadness, hope, and every other conflicting emotion that arises when you’re down and out.

“Thanks,” he whispers, “For all of this.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” you reply, taking a few small steps forward. But Jaeyun shakes his head, his eyes fixed on the floor.

“No, really,” he insists. “I…I don’t think I’ve met someone as kind as you in a long time.” His voice breaks on the last word, and he quickly looks away, ashamed of the vulnerability slipping through.

He has his friends, they are kind and generous much like yourself, but being kicked out of his own family has also shown him the darkest parts of humanity, the ones that he doesn’t let others know that he’s experienced. Truthfully, he’s just a scared boy who needs his family.

The admission punches through your chest, leaving no room for hesitation. You glide over to him as your arms wrap gently around his shoulders.

If a cuppa can fix most things, a hug can fix them all.

At first, he stiffens, unsure how to respond, but then he relaxes, his head lowering slightly against you.

“It’s okay,” you murmur softly. “You’re going to be okay. Maybe not right now, but soon.”

Jaeyun’s arms tentatively come up to return the embrace, and for a moment, the storm outside fades into irrelevance. His eyes close and for a change, he believes that it will be fine. This moment isn’t going to last forever, once the morning blooms, he’ll be out of your life and trying to get back on his feet, but he’s thankful for the reassurance and hope right now.

Pulling back slightly, his arms still lingering around you. His eyes, uncertain and yearning, flicker between your face and your lips. Then, without a second thought, he leans in and presses his lips to yours - a fleeting, hesitant kiss that seems to catch even him off guard.

His lips retract from yours as he draws back, his face flushed with embarrassment and horror. “Sorry,” he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. Why the fuck would he kiss you without consent when you’ve been so kind towards him? He thinks. His hand twitches at his side, as though unsure whether to retreat or reach out again. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Would it make you feel better?” you interrupt gently, your voice soft but steady.

His brows furrow, confusion flickering across his features. “What?”

“Would it make you feel better?” you repeat, tilting your head slightly. There’s no judgment in your tone, no hesitation. “To kiss me?”

“Really, no, it’s okay-”

This time, you close the distance, your lips capturing his before he can finish the sentence. It’s slow, deliberate, a kiss that tells him you’re here for him despite still being strangers. His initial surprise melts into something deeper, something warmer, as he responds cautiously at first, then with more certainty.

It actually is making him feel better, the human connection, it’s nature's balm.

So he follows your lead, his arms tightening around your waist, holding you impossibly close as his hands splay over your back, covering most of the surface. The way his plump lips move against yours is magnetic, sucking and pulling you into his world. You’ve been kissed more times than you can count - shamelessly to say - but his mouth feels a little different; a little less icky than the others and a lot more like they’re meant to be on yours.

With that feeling charging your bloodstream, your hands fly up to his damp hair, craving to have him on each of your senses. You can’t get enough of him, his taste of beer from the numerous bottles he downed on the roof, the touch of his silky locks that are in need of a haircut, his scent of your strawberry milk body wash mixing in with his own musk, how he sounds when he growls into your mouth, showcasing that he’s just as desperate as you are for this.

You need him…

Swiftly, your hands trail from his head, down his neck, your nails lightly scratching down his collarbones until you reach the veins just above where you were unabashedly looking not 10 minutes ago.

Jaeyun pushes your ass against the sofa, bucking up into you, hips deliciously working to place your hand on his cock. God, it feels beautiful, even with the fluffy barrier.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he moans deeply into your mouth, passing the need from himself into you. Your hand grips his covered shaft as you palm him teasingly. “Don’t do this if you don’t want to.”

Honestly, he doesn’t want to say anything that will make this stop, his body pulsing with the desire to have you wrapped around him. But he also believes in consent, and while you both might be horny-induced 22-year-olds, you’re also strangers.

Shaking your head adamantly, you grip his dick harder, smiling at the whimper it draws from him. “I want this, Jaeyun.”

“I suppose, men have been in your bed for a lot less, right?” he chuckles into your mouth. And while it could come across as an insult to some - that he’s essentially throwing back your own slut-shaming dialogue from earlier - you feel no degradation or malice behind his words. You can tell he’s playful, under all the dreary circumstances. He’s a boy who has light and laughter built into his DNA.

Maybe it’s delusion, maybe it’s a soul connection, or maybe it’s the fact that you need to bounce on his cock within the next five minutes or you’ll perish that’s clouding your judgment.

Either one, you let it slide.

So, playfully, you slap his chest and break the kiss. “Keep talking and you won’t get the chance to see my bedroom.”

“That’s okay, I can fuck you here,” he replies quick-witted, suddenly hoisting you up on the back of the couch, the wood and material digging into your ass not uncomfortably.

You laugh and so does he, looking into each other’s eyes, and it all feels so right.

Bringing your hand up to his face, you push his hair off of his forehead and reveal his eyes - the light from your living room dancing in his pupils, much like how they had been on the rooftop, but this time, there is an abundance of happiness that adds to the shine.

“You’re so pretty,” you confess, that no-filter brain coming into full effect once again. Granted, a much better consequence of it.

A faint, rose blush crawls across the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose, a bashful grin on his mouth. “Thank you. Personally, I think you’re prettier so…”

“Guess we can be pretty together, huh?”

“Pretty good together you mean?”

Another laugh jumps out of you and you cup both his cheeks, the warmth of them comforting and worth cherishing. You peck his nose. “I should have known a pretty boy like you would be a charmer.”

He shrugs, kissing your nose back, not bothering to rebut. Instead, his hands guide your legs to wrap around him, hands finding your ass, and he lifts you up. You can’t ignore his cock now semi-hard pressing into you as he bounces you into a comfortable position.

Securing yourself, you circle your arms across his shoulders and kiss him once again, letting him lead you down your hallway, anticipation and greed passing through your breaths and tongues.

“Which one?” he pants out, squeezing your ass as he does so.

“This one on the right,” you point half-arsed, too lost in the moment to give it a full thought.

Awkwardly due to your wriggling body, Jaeyun opens the door, trying to view a path to which he can reach your bed without falling over your clutter. Shoes and more lay abandoned over your carpet, creating an obstacle, but one he refuses to lose.

Jaeyun finally reaches your queen-sized bed and gently places you down, his cock pressing into you even more.

It’s only then that he realises that along the way from your living room to your bedroom, his towel has fallen down, leaving his exposed cock rubbing against the fabric of shorts. “Jesus fucking christ.”

You look at him and see the pleasure on his face, biting his lips as his eyebrows knit together, rubbing against you again. It makes you giggle, you don’t know why, but he just brings it out of you.

The sound from your lips draws his attention back. “What?” he breathes out heavily, cock thumping with need as he humps you again.

“Maybe you should be inside of me while you thrust - kinda how this whole sex thing works,” you playfully jab, biting your lips together to stop from laughing. But he laughs for you, resting his forehead on your chest and shaking his head in amusement.

“Shut up, I’m just excited.”

“I can see that, yeah.”

It’s easy with him, you’re noticing, like you’ve somehow been in a relationship for years and you’ve just come home from a couples date with your married friends, two bottles of red wine consumed, and adoration palpable in the air. You have two dogs, maybe three if you can get your way, and you are the annoying pair that people hate to hang out with because your love for one another never dwindled, not even after all those years.

Maybe you shouldn’t be fantasising about a life with this random man you met on a roof, but that’s where your brain immediately goes each time you banter or giggle with one another.

He’s different.

Jaeyun stands up, letting you see his cock as he pumps it gently, getting it to full mass. The fact that it’s standing at 5 inches already and still growing causes an ache in your stomach. Fuck, it’s going to feel so good inside of you, your walls are already leaking out for it, staining your pyjama shorts.

His hands grip your shorts and peel them off, hurriedly throwing them on the floor, only adding to the chaos. Your legs instinctively spread and the juices from your excitement gleam in the moonlight, looking like a ripe fruit just ready to be devoured.

And devoured it will be.

Hoisting you down, Jaeyun positions you at the end of the bed until your ass is almost hanging off, kneeling down between your thighs. Not exactly how you thought the turn of events was going, but you are the furthest from mad at it.

“You look so fucking delicious, Y/N.” Jaeyun’s comment makes you feel exposed but not in a bad way, yet, you still want to hide from him. As your legs try to close, he places his large hands on your thighs, shaking his head. “No, princess, the only way you're shutting your legs right now is if you’re clamping my head between them.”

“Jaeyun…” you whine, both at the petname and his breath ghosting over your hardened clit, making it weep again - much to Jaeyun’s delight.

“I know, princess. You need it, huh?” Jaeyun whispers, kissing up your inner thigh and around the area you crave him most.

The heat in the room is electric, any cold you both felt from the rain now disappeared from your bones and replaced with scorching intensity. Your hips follow the blow of his breath in search of connection but he simply places a chaste kiss on your clit before pulling away, a smirk on his face as he sees you whimper and squeak.

“You make the prettiest noises when you’re desperate, Y/N,” he gloats, though it’s prideful and not arrogant. He means it, and that’s why he keeps teasing you softly, puckering at your folds and giving you just enough to have you humping the air and arching into him.

“I’m never letting you use my shower again,” you laugh in discontentment, your arm flying across your face as you hide in the comfort of your bicep.

Jaeyun huffs a laugh, echoing your own amusement before he speaks. “I know, I’m being so mean considering you’ve been so kind, huh? You’re just so cute when you’re like this.”

“I’m about to become a bitch if you don’t do something,” you warn lightly, peaking down to look at him under your arm.

“Well, I better get to it then right?”

And with that, his thick tongue stripes up your folds, gathering and savouring your wetness. Your back arches off the bed and pushes just enough onto him that his nose catches your clit. “Fuck!” you bellow.

The tip of his tongue searches for your nub, and once it hits the spot and your hands fly to his hair, his lips suction around it, almost making out with it.

He’s not real you think to yourself. You can’t help the jealousy that rises inside of you as your brain works overtime to imagine just how many girls he has had to go down on for him to be this good at eating you out. If there was ever such a thing as a pussy eating contest, you know he would win hands down because he’s already got you chanting his name, punctuated by profanities.

“Right there, Jaeyun…fuck…”

His pride swells and he grows more confident, tongue flicking quickly over your button as he drools over your cunt. It’s safe to say that Jaeyun loves pussy. If he could have it morning, noon, and night, and elevensies, he would without hesitation. Especially yours. The taste of your tang and sweetness is enough to put him in a frenzy, long forgetting about his aching cock and focusing solely on drinking you up.

He humps the air though, as he always does, resembling a dog in heat as he slabbers and grunts into your cunt. He nibbles at your clit and soothes it with his wet muscle, a smile plastered on his face with each movement - your noises urging him on.

He brings his middle and ring finger to your pulsating hole as it clenches around nothing, deciding to give you some more relief. As he plunges in, you scream out in joy, an open-mouthed smile on your face as coherent words get lost in your throat. You clearly don’t get eaten out as often as you deserve, and that just spurs Jaeyun on more to be the best you’ve ever had.

“So wet for me, princess. Taste so fucking good I want to be here for hours.”

And while that sounds nice in theory, you need him inside of you now. His fingers, thick and beautiful, are nice for now, but that 6-inch, throbbing cock is calling your name. So, you pull him away much to your pussy’s weeping plea for him to keep going, his mouth covered in your slick which is perhaps the most beautiful sight you have ever seen - and you’ve seen the Northern Lights on a crisp autumn morning.

His fingers never stop though, just curling inside of you slowly, beckoning your climax still. “What’s wrong?” he asks, concern weaving in his tone.

Sitting up on your elbows, you smile and pant, trying to maintain a steady voice while the tip of his fingers presses against your soft spot inside, jaw slacking each time he holds it for a little longer. “I need your cock so back, Jaeyun. I’m so serious.” The words are desperate and real, shamelessly desperate.

“You sure you don’t want to cum right now? I can do it.” It’s not like he can’t make you cum over and over again anyway.

Shaking your head, you sit up, hunching over to cup his face. “Please. I really need you to fuck me.”

A primal desire flickers past Jaeyun’s eyes and a quick nod tells you that he needs it too. His cock jumping for joy at the thought of being enveloped in your tight cunt. So, he withdraws his fingers and licks them clean, pulling on a show as his tongue weaves through his digits, wide eyes looking up at you with sheer longing. It stirs something inside of you, something that suddenly makes you want to grow a cock and have him choke on it.

But you quickly shake those thoughts, pulling him up by his hair and kissing him deeply. His tongue now tastes of you and you are so glad you love sweet juices and decided that for the past three weeks, cranberry spritz has been your favourite.

Jaeyun makes quick hands of stripping you of your t-shirt, leaving you both naked and clawing at one another.

“You got condoms?” he asks between kisses, trailing down your neck as his hands grip your hips so tightly that the skin turns white.

But you don’t want that. You want to feel him. Raw and unfiltered. Is it stupid? Of course, it is. But some would say letting him inside your home never mind inside your body is already wreckless, so, what’s another reckless abandonment on your list tonight?

“No. No condom, please,” you mumble against his hair as you kiss the top of his head, your conditioner filling your senses.

Jaeyun freezes his mouth and darts up, eyes seeking yours to make sure he heard you right. “Huh?”

“No condom. I’m on the pill,” you stroke his cheek tenderly, “Please, Jaeyun. Do this with me just once, yeah?”

For some reason, that ‘just once’ pangs in the boy’s chest and he hates the feeling more than anything. He doesn’t want this to be once, he wants this to be again, and again, and then some more. Jaeyun isn’t one to believe in fate but considering he chose your flat complex rooftop out of all the others in the city, and it decided to pour down - even though it’s been dry for the past two weeks - which led to you coming to get him and practically drag him into your home; he would say that doesn’t happen by chance.

Although, instead of getting in his head, he agrees, lust overpowering his responsibility to be safe. “I want it too, so fucking badly,” he leans down, rubbing his leaking cock on your slit, mouth moving to your ear. “I can’t wait to cum inside you, fill you up and make you suck me in.”

Does he know where this confidence came from? Perhaps it was the way you whispered into the air his name over and over again how good you felt while he ate your pretty little cunt, or maybe it's the fact that if this is your only time under him, he will damn make sure you’re thinking about him for the rest of your life.

The heels of your feet move with his ass as he gyrates his hips, allowing his cock to snag on your clit and elicit a hiss from both of you. Your lips messily leave open-mouth kisses over any skin that you can reach; his neck, cheek, lips, forehead, all of it, the feeling of his glistening skin on your lips addicting.

“Please, Jaeyun. Fuck me. Right. Now.”

Your pleading snaps him into full throttle, his hand guiding his cock to your entrance, his bell expanding and contracting as he slips inside of you. Your groans of pleasure harmonise in the winter night, both your bodies connecting fully as he bottoms out slowly, balls meeting your ass as he pushes in to the hilt.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, burying his face in your neck, and you lock him in there, fisting his hair and bucking your hips for friction. He fills you up so good you wonder why humans are born empty and not with a permanent cock up their pussy.

You never want him to leave.

“Move, Yunnie, please.” The tone of your voice doesn’t carry much conviction but portrays your desperation for him. The nickname falling off your cock-drunk tongue much to his happiness. If anyone ever calls him Yunnie again, and it overtakes the way you whimper it out, he will commit murder. Only you can call him that, call him whatever you want, call him by his name, ever again.

Obeying your wishes, he begins to pull back his hips and move them painfully slow back into you, feeling each bump of your walls and how they meld perfectly with the veins of his fat cock.

While he loves savouring the moment of you taking him in, feeling how your hole adapts to his girth and length, creating way just for him. “Faster, Yunnie. God, please.”

“Asking God to help get what you want is crazy considering it’s me you should be begging,” he chuckles, never increasing his pace.

“Shut up, please,” you whine out, grabbing his ass and trying to physically move him to speed up.

“You can ask me to shut up but not beg me to move faster?” he tuts, going even slower, “C’mon, princess. Ask me nicely.”

You want to slap him, a dry laugh coming from your throat as you fight between your pride - telling you never to do as a man says - and your need for him to start jackhammering into you.

Well, you suppose you can let your pride have a night off for a chance.

“Jaeyun, please, move faster. I’m begging you. Fuck me faster and harder.”

Those sweet yet filthy words send Jaeyun into orbit, and he grants your prayers. With his hands pushing down your hips, he begins to thrust with ferocity, the tip of his cock not punching into your cervix. It’s much more delicious than you ever could have imagined, the way he snaps into your cunt with no restraint, your pussy taking a beating in the best way possible.

This is heaven.

“Yes, Jaeyun! Yes! Don’t fucking stop, please.”

And stop he does not. In fact, he lifts your legs over his shoulders and folds you in half, the new angle somehow reaching so deep you can feel him poking your stomach. You have never felt this good in your life. A cock has never made your brain turn to mush or made your hands literally peel the skin from your partner’s back before, yet here you are, chanting incoherent words into his ear and clawing up his shoulder blades.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, princess. Taking my cock so well.” Jaeyun breathes into your neck, nipping at your skin and he marks you right back. His praise makes you smile, kissing all over his face in appreciation for the pleasure he is giving you right now. “Such a good girl, Y/N.”

You could cum that minute, and he feels how you clench around him, sucking him in further, making him tip his head back and move even faster. He wants you to cum together, and with how good your pussy feels, he isn’t far from it.

“You sure you want me to cum inside?” he asks again, trying to gauge whether you could have changed your mind. But you grip his hair and stare into his eyes.

“If you don’t, I’ll kick you out back into the rain.”

Jaeyun laughs. Hard. Your threat is meaningless because you clearly would never leave him out there again to drown in the winter hail, but it does get your point across. You don’t just want his cum, you need it. And luckily for you, he is happy to oblige.

So, with your consent, he works on getting you both to the edge, his right hand coming down to your clit and rubbing it in smooth circles, a juxtaposition to his harsh thrusts. And you begin to see stars, constellations, as you arch your back and wriggle under him. The coil in your tummy burns with the insatiable pull.

“I’m cumming! Yunnie, I’m cumming,” you warn, happiness filtering the air as you buck your hips and match the rhythm of his shaft penetrating you. “Cum with me. Please, baby.”

Baby

His balls tighten at the petname and groans loudly. “Call me that again.”

“Baby, cum inside me,” you repeat within a moan, forcing your eyes open to lock onto his. “Cum with me.”

And just like that, with the final clench of your walls around him, he spurts his white seed inside of you, a primal roar escaping his lips as each rope coats your canal. You cum with him, his name falling from your lips over and over again as you chant out in hymn.

“Squeeze it, princess. Take it all like you want.” He validates you without ridicule, a grin of glee etching onto his face as his body shakes with the euphoria he feels. You were right, cumming inside of you is much better than a condom.

After a while, both your hearts begin to slow down and his body collapses onto yours. His lips lazily kiss your sweaty skin on the top of your breast, your fingers threading through his now dry hair, the only wetness coming from persperation. Its intimate, despite the newness of the situation, and you can’t help but plaster a smile on your face.

It feels so right.

And you’re not the only one who believes so.

Jaeyun gathers some strength to lean on his arm, cupping your face as he strokes your cheek. “Can I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.” His voice is wavering due to exhaustion, but it’s overshadowed by sincerity.

Placing your hand over his, you titter slightly, the sound making Jaeyun’s stomach knot and cock pulse inside you once again. “You mean having sex or staying in my house and abusing my shower privileges?”

“Both.” He murmurs earnestly, pinching your cheek. “I also want you to abuse my shower…when I get one.” The last part of that sentence falters slightly, his voice dipping as if suddenly comping back into his reality.

But you won’t let him dwell in it. Instead, you reach up to kiss him gently, lips expressing the reassurance you worry your words might not. And it seems to do the trick because, in an instant, he’s kissing you back with passion, taking each swipe of your tongue against his as confirmation that you want to have this again and see where it goes.

It could lead to nothing but it could lead to everything.

And he needs to find out.

#enhypen smut #enha smut #jake smut #aj writes #jake x reader #jaeyun smut #jaeyun x reader #enha x reader #enhypen x reader

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xikyuu · 6 months ago

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imagine when humans get to space and theres still streaming/youtube. like,

"what's up guys!! today we are on planet <incomprehensible to the human ears> in the <incomprehensible to the human ears> solar system, joined by several experts who know tons about their native species! we are here to learn about other sentient beings and to see if i can survive the ultimate test...”

one of the experts garbles in their native language, body language signifying that it is concerned. the translator spits out: “‘survive the ultimate test...?’”

the human shrugged. "to see if i can survive being stung slash bit by a venomous or poisonous species."

there was a sudden out-roar of yelling... yelling? is it yelling if it isn't talking? whatever.

"no! that is very unwise! the venom and poison are highly fatal!!"

"you only live once!"

“you do only live once, human!”

#humans are space australians #the human is a masochist its fine #humans are space orcs #haso #humans are deathworlders #humans are space oddities #humans are strange #humans are weird #humans are insane #earth is space australia #haso writer #— xikyuu yaps #aliens #humans and aliens

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viiihouse · 2 years ago

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50/50 I'm always at some risk 'Cause I'm a woman, why? don't care, my way Because I love me, there's no need to judge Just call my ne ne name

#happy international women's day #international women's day #kim yongsun #solar #spit it out #kpop lyrics

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entitled-fangirl · 2 months ago

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Foolish.

Gwayne Hightower x reader

Summary: Gwayne’s wife feels self conscious after birthing their daughter.

Warning: body image issues, smut mention towards the end (there’s not smut but like there is so 18+ please)

A/n: based on an ask from forever ago!!

Masterlist

………………………………………

It had been almost five months at this point, and Gwayne was beginning to worry.

Her body had given him a precious little girl, and he wanted to praise her endlessly for it. Her recovery had went smoothly to his knowledge, no tears or aches from it at this point, and still he wondered why she had not initiated anything with him.

She was most likely skittish. She always had been skittish about this stuff, but he had hoped that she was not regretting their actions now that they had the consequences.

He sat in his solar, his mind plagued by all of these thoughts.

He scribbled at the papers but his mind was entirely elsewhere, and by the time he had to restart a letter for the third time, he gave up. Tossing the pen aside, he stretched out his aching shoulders and legs as he stood up to address the problem itself.

…

Y/n Hightower walked around the room, the babe rested securely in her arms as she swayed.

Her lips pulled up as she admired the babe. The spitting image of her father. Bright fiery hair to match the deep blue irises of her eyes. She was a sight to behold.

But it made her thoughts shift back to Gwayne. And immediately an unease of guilt came with it.

Five months she'd put it all off. The conversation. The rejection she knew she'd receive if she tried.

Before the birth, and before the pregnancy at all, Gwayne had proudly shown off his wife like a prized possession- a perfect thing that would make even the most well off lord jealous. He adored her with everything he had and he was happy to do so.

So pregnancy felt like a death sentence.

If she were to even live, how could Gwayne show off a woman with the scars and marks that she now was marred with?

She had lived, and now she bore the remnants of what their daughter had left behind. Marks of her body stretching, a loosening in her skin, her bones in her hips occasionally requiring attention. She had indeed recovered but she was not as she was before.

And she knew Gwayne would notice it soon.

"And how is our precious gift?" His voice echoed in the room when he stepped in. His hands were held behind his back, a sway to his steps.

"Oh," she sighed. "She's wonderful. Sleeping soundly."

Gwayne stepped behind her, his arms wrapping around her frame. She inwardly cringed. She was so scared of his mind in this moment.

But whatever she worried he may have noticed, he paid no real attention to.

He leaned over her shoulder to kiss her cheek, peering down at the babe. "She is comfortable with you. She knows how safe you are. I believe she feels what I feel."

The woman's brows furrowed. "And what's that?"

His voice whispered in her ear, "That you are the most wondrous woman in the realm, and she and I am grateful for you."

Just like the compliments he used to pay her. It's almost as if nothing changed. But she knew things had changed. So much had changed. It was eating at her.

That, and his wandering hands over her hips.

"Gwayne," she gently chided like she always did when he'd grow handsy.

"Why not? Why can't I enjoy my wife's beauty for a moment?" Hopefully he'd finally get an answer to her avoidance of him.

"You know what I'll say."

He sighed. He did know what she always said. 'Not today.' Not today felt more like a promise to 'Never again.' He hated to push like this, but he was getting nothing to help mend the bond, and he'd do anything to save it.

"You've been feeling well. The babe is asleep. We'll stop when you wish." He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I just want to admire my wife."

"You don't.”

Her answer was so swift. So sure. She fully believed that he didn't want to admire her pretty form.

"I do," he argued in confusion. He now stepped around to look her in the eye. "I promise you that I do. Why would I lie?"

Her eyes avoided his like hiding a deep secret. She used the babe like a shield, keeping her attention on the young child in hopes that Gwayne would drop the issue.

"Love?" He tried as he head tilted down to catch her eye.

It worked, and her pupils fixed on his. "It's complicated."

"It's not," he reasoned. "There is nothing complicated for us. We love each other about all else." A thought came over him. "Don't we?"

"We… we do," she drew out, almost like a question.

He was growing frustrated. "Please. Lay the babe down so we may discuss something of importance."

"Gwayne-"

"-Do as I say." It was a snap, one that Gwayne had never done to her. Not like that. Usually it was with a teasing grin or a kind smile. This one was of expectance.

She knew this was the conversation she had been putting off.

His rejection of her.

He knew this was the conversation he had been putting off.

Her rejection of him.

The two lovers felt the air around them grow cold as they simply stared at one another. How horrid it felt to be unwanted.

Gwayne was a merciful man. She knew that he'd have the heart to send her back to her father if this is how it would go.

But a life away from her child would be torture.

The destruction of her body. All for what?

"Alright," she mouthed, for no breath came from her lips.

With shaking hands, she placed the babe in the small bed Gwayne had spent the time to fashion himself. She recalled the curses he strung together when he had gained a rather deep splinter and she was the one to pluck it from his skin. And the night they spent after that. Seemed Gwayne liked to be taken care of quite a lot.

But she forced it from her mind. Now was not the time to reminisce.

When she turned from the crib, she saw the tears that pricked at her husband's eyes.

And how her heart screamed.

"Let us retire," he softly suggested. "I'll have someone look after her. Come." He held his hand out.

She took it, though it felt right, she began to question if it truly was.

The walk to their chamber was silent. But it spoke volumes.

Once inside, Gwayne didn't want to wait longer. "Your mind is so plagued. I wish you'd speak."

"Was is there for me to say? You're the one." Her voice quivered at her last declaration, "Just do it. Send me away.”

"Wh-Why would I do such a thing?" He asked in a horrified tone. How could she even think he would let something like that happen? His wife. His bright light.

"Don't pretend you haven't noticed it all, Gwayne. You're wise. You've seen the changes in me. I'm not the same prize you once had."

"Prize? What are you talking about? You're my wife."

"DO NOT PRETEND YOU HAVE NOT NOTICED IT ALL, GWAYNE!" She shouted at him. "I'm different now. And if you do not love me anymore, just say so!"

Gwayne merely gawked. Even if he tried to form words, nothing would have left his throat. Did she really think that? His blue eyes stared at her in confusion.

"Gwayne," she whined. She wrapped her arms around herself. "Say something. Please."

"W- You- I…" He stopped to regain his bearings, taking a deep breath. "I love you."

Her brows furrowed a bit. "You do?"

"Yes!" He almost shouted on accident. "Yes. Of course I do. And you…?"

Now the confusion turned to her. "I… I love you more than anything," she stated as if obvious and he was a fool for questioning so.

His head quirked to the side, then an amused scoff from his lips. His hands found their way to his hips. "Then what are we fighting over?"

"I've changed."

"In what ways?" He challenged.

"Well," her arms gave an over exaggerated shrug, like he should already know what she meant. When his stare continued, she huffed. "Just… my body is different."

"You've recovered well. Haven't you?" What started out as a statement turned to a worried question.

"As much as I can," she remarked. Her self consciousness was showing once again. She wished she didn't have to spell it out for him.

Gwayne's hand reached out to her hip, tugging her lightly to him. It was comfortable. It was normal. He had done it a million times before. "It seems the only fight happening at this moment is the one in your mind." He brushed another stray here from her cheek. "Tell me what fills that head of yours."

Her voice was a whisper as she looked at her husband. "I only think of you."

"And our little girl," he said with a quirk of his lips. "So tell me what thoughts you have of me."

"My body has changed too much for us to be as we were. You'd be so unhappy."

The thumb that was caressing the woman's hip bone paused. "All this because you believe I'd be unhappy with your body? Answer me."

A curt nod.

"You-" He sighed and brought a hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I had a bath set up but I think you need it far more than I. C'mon."

The copper tub sat on the other side of their room. He had ordered a servant to do so prior to him leaving his solar, and that had been a little while ago now that he thought about it.

When he tried to gently push her in that direction, she took offense. "What are you saying, Gwayne?"

"Love, I just meant… " he sighed, "Get in the tub.”

Even when frustrated, Gwayne had never led her astray and she hoped it would be the same now. She stepped to the tub, dipping her hand in to find that it was not cold. A decent temperature.

And when Gwayne went to pull at the laces of her dress, she panicked. "Wait!" She spun around to see his worried expression. Her hands grabbed his wrists. "I don't want to do this."

He frowned. "I've seen you bare before, my love. Many times," he remarked, a grin on his face when her cheeks flushed. "C'mon. Do this one thing for me."

"Was giving you a child not enough?" She sassed back.

He scoffed. "Love. You know what I mean. Let me wash you."

She studied him for a minute. "Fine."

Turning her back around, Gwayne unlaced her bodice and slowly helped her undress. As soon as her soft skin came to his view, he placed soft kisses on her shoulder and up her neck.

The sight of her shift falling to the ground made her stomach twist.

Gwayne knew her so well. Her hands came up to cover herself, but he caught her wrists quickly. He nipped behind her ear. "Get in."

He helped her in, kneeling down at the side of the tub. He took extra care to not look at her body in the water in respect to her. At least for now. His gaze stuck to her face and shoulders. "You foolish girl," he teased sweetly, His fingers grazed over her cheek. "Do you truly believe I'd leave you because your body gave me a child? Hardly. Hardly, woman."

She leaned into his touch.

"May I wash you?" He asked softly.

Her bottom lip tucked between her teeth in thought. A nod.

"Alright." He pulled himself around the tub to kneel behind her, pulling her hair over her shoulder to expose her shoulders and back. When his fingers ran down her shoulder, a shiver moved down her spine, making him smirk. "I dare to say that you've missed my touch."

"I think I have," she admitted.

Gwayne's rough hands handled her gently, rubbing the soap over her arms and shoulders gently before pausing on her chest. A silent question was on the tip of his tongue.

Her head leaning back. That was an answer.

His hand ran over her breasts and he took note of the way her breath caught each time. Swollen with milk for their daughter. It's true that that was different than before, but Gwayne loved it. "So pretty," he muttered under his breath.

His hands moved lower, moving down her stomach and over the small stretch marks across the skin there. He didn't pause. Didn't falter. He continued as if he didn't even notice them at all. He carefully washed her, taking his time and being extra gentle, muttering praises under his breath.

Lastly, his hand ran down the inside of her thigh, moving up to gently graze over her clit. She jumped, but a little groan came from her throat. She grabbed his wrist. "I need you."

Oh how those words affected him.

…

A few hours later, Gwayne massaged the oil onto her shoulders gently, pressing his thumbs into her shoulder blades in a relaxing way. He had massaged all of her at this point, and she was barely awake, the massage and the past few orgasms leaving her out of it.

He kissed her head with a grin. "Thank you, my sweet lady wife. For everything."

She only hummed.

How foolish of them to ever doubt each other.

…………………………………..

#fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x y/n #gwayne hightower x wife!reader #gwayne hightower fanfic #gwayne hightower imagine #gwayne hightower smut #ser gwayne hightower #gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne hightower x you #gwayne x reader #gwayne hightower #ser gwayne #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon imagines

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gureumz · 1 year ago

Text

wide open

rating: explicit

member: heeseung

premise: forced to marry a dictator king of a nearby kingdom, you're advised to shut up and take whatever king heeseung gives you and give him everything you have in return. in truth, you'd rather kill yourself than be married to this monster, but he has a way of changing people's minds

notes: fem!reader, dom!heeseung, royalty au, very slight angst, marriage of convenience/forced marriage, hate-ish sex, breeding, mentions of impregnation, use of pet names, unprotected sex, strangers to sort-of-lovers, mentions and descriptions of death and injury, lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: sixth and final entry for my 1k follower special! this is the end for my two-month 1k event! i'm so thankful for the love this received and i'm excited to start my new series/anthology! i can't wait to write your other requests as well and bring you more stories you can enjoy!

it's making your stomach churn.

the way your father looks at you right now, as if he's sorry but not really. apologetic only because shouting in delight would hardly seem appropriate at a time like this.

you can practically see the sparkle in the East king's eyes.

"the decree says so," your father says with a sigh like he regrets to inform you of such news. you bite down on your tongue to keep yourself from flinging the pewter cup filled with wine in front of you at him.

"the decree can say one thing but we can do exactly the opposite of it," you challenge, balling your fists in your lap. your father turns to you sharply.

"and then what, my love?" your father coos condescendingly. "race to see which one of our heads rolls off the gallows first when the new king of the West chops them off?"

you stare at your father, clad in his deep velvet garb, the lines on his forehead pronounced in the flickering firelight in his solar. you feel your whole face stiffen as you stare back at the spitting image of yourself, the exact source of the flame raging within you. you love your father and you know him. know him enough that it's no use arguing with him now. he would fling whatever words you had right back at you with double the force.

"you're lucky he didn't snatch you in the dead of night once he proclaimed victory," your father presses on. "you're lucky he's being diplomatic about it, issuing decrees so that all the four kingdoms are bonded legally to his whims."

"it hardly feels lucky being the sole maiden of royal blood fit enough to wed him," you spit back, turning away.

you hear your father lets out a breath and you can feel him walk away towards the large window that adorns the north side of his solar. you watch as he gazes out the glass panes, his back to you.

"he's a strapping young man, a talented general as he's proven, and truly the royal seed of his father before him," your father says, something unfamiliar in his voice. he turns back to you and you see, for the first time, the fear in his eyes.

"he turned on his own father, just as his father did with his father, took over that poor dead man's kingdom, and waged a war against his neighbors."

your father's voice trembles now.

"refusal would not only mean death, my rose," your father points out quietly, slipping in the endearment he so often used with you since you were a child.

"he would make sure you wished you were dead," he warns.

you swallow, letting his words sink in.

you think back on the past year, the months of hiding, the weeks spent banged up in the highest tower of your castle, the days of weeping as you waited for your father to come back, the minutes of terror as you were told the West king had emerged triumphant.

the second you saw your father, the Almighty Blessed King of the East, staggering through the palace gates, bloodied and broken.

that wretched tyrant from the West almost took your father away from you. giving yourself to him willingly hardly seems like the right move. but not doing so would mean a fate worse than death.

"is he really that terrible?" you ask, almost in a whisper.

your father walks up to where you're seated at his dining table. he reaches down and takes your hands in his calloused, war-scarred ones.

"i couldn't give you an answer to that if i tried," he explains. "i surrendered before i could get the chance to meet him."

"then how are you so ready to give away your only daughter, your only reminder of the woman you loved?" you implore, looking desperately into your father's eyes.

he shakes his head.

"this is how i want to remember you before you're whisked away into that cruel man's arms," your father says tenderly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"feisty, with the zeal only your mother could pass on to you."

your eyes sting with tears at hearing your father mention his late queen.

your own mother feels like someone from a dream to you. she was there one moment and gone the next. much like yourself.

you let yourself cry silently, rising to let your father hold you in his arms.

---

the trip from the East to the West typically took a little over two weeks if no hiccups are encountered along the way. but you realized, merely two days in, that this whole marriage was cursed from the beginning.

it's as if the whole world conspired against this union, and you would have been grateful for it, but after days of running into problems (thieves and hunters and sudden thunderstorms and a pack of wild boars), the only thing you wanted was to be sheltered inside a warm castle room with a cup of spiced wine on your bedside.

so unbridled was your happiness when you heard a sudden shout from outside your carriage announcing your arrival at the gates of the West Kingdom castle. your two ladies-in-waiting riding with you had equally relieved faces, your hands immediately reaching out to grasp theirs.

"we're here, your grace," the younger of the two, yuna, whispers excitedly.

olivia, the older and more cynical one, swats at yuna's arm.

"don't sound so happy," olivia berates. "this is a dictator's castle we're entering."

yuna shrinks back in her seat and you reach over to clasp her hand reassuringly.

"i'm the only one fit enough to marry him," you remind. "he should know better than to lay a single finger on me."

olivia eyes you worriedly while yuna nods in agreement.

"i'll be alright," you say. whether it's to them or to yourself, you're not entirely sure.

the entirety of your royal party comes to a halt after what you felt was an hour's worth of treading on a steep incline and only then do you allow yourself to peek through the curtains of your carriage.

you gasp as you see the fog all around. you're aware that the West was the mountainous region of the four kingdoms but seeing the clouds form beneath the castle grounds made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

"let's hope he doesn't throw me down the ravine," you mutter quietly. olivia and yuna exchange looks before giggling quietly.

you alight from your carriage a few more minutes later, the sudden light nearly blinding you. the sun is covered in dark clouds but the lack of any greenery to shield your field of view has you squinting to see in front of you.

"good morrow, your grace," a voice greets. you turn and see a smartly-dressed man approach, bowing deeply. he's adorned in the West king's court colors and it's then you notice the pin affixed on his chest.

"i'm lord jake, the royal chamberlain," he adds, taking your hand and pressing his lips to your skin. he straightens up and gestures behind him.

your eyes follow where he's pointing and you see a grand staircase leading up to the heavy wooden doors at the entrance to the castle.

"let me assist you to the throne room," jake offers, holding out his arm to you. you take it, fixing a firm grip on his bicep.

"the king is waiting," he adds.

---

you let yourself be pulled through the towering hallways, resisting the urge to gape at the lavishly adorned walls. portraits of Western monarchs, legendary shields and swords owned by said monarchs, heavy purple drapery. jake seems to understand, walking at a pace that hardly indicates that you're in any rush.

you turn behind you to see olivia and yuna following dutifully, your other ladies and servants following close behind, flanked by guards both from your party and from the West King's.

you turn back ahead of you, catching sight of the heavy doors to what you can only guess is the throne room.

"if i may speak freely, your grace." jake turns to you slightly. you return his gaze and nod.

"of course," you say.

"you need not be nervous," jake reassures. "i know of the tales you might have heard about our king. but i've been a companion of his since we were boys. he does not hurt those who are not deserving to be hurt."

you remain silent for a few seconds as you continue to approach the throne room. after a while, you respond to jake.

"i appreciate the words of comfort, my lord," you begin. "but what indication do you have that i'm nervous?"

jake smiles warmly at you just as you reach the doors.

"you've been squeezing my arm since you've arrived, your grace," jake points out.

a pause. your face breaks out into a smile and jake mirrors your expression, both of you allowing yourselves a moment to laugh.

the guards by the throne room doors heave them open and you stand, stiff but adorning your face with a look of resolve. jake pulls his arm away and steps in front of you. just as the doors fully open, jake bows to the throne and then to you.

"my most revered King of the West, this is Princess _________ of the East and her royal household," jake announces in a booming voice that startles you slightly.

"princess," jake continues, turning to you once more.

"i present to you, the Most Royal King of the West, King Heeseung,."

---

everything was a blur after that.

you do, however, remember the silver shock of hair atop the king's head. the deep purple of his doublet. the tight black breeches and black boots laced up around his ankles.

you could see King Heeseung's lips remain unmoving as you curtsied deeply in front of him. you remember the feeling of fear, humiliation, and embarrassment at having to bow in front of a cruel tyrant.

you remember the hint of a smile grace his mouth as you straighten up. you remember the sweat gathering on your palms.

you remember muffled words being exchanged between the king and jake. you couldn't make out what they were saying with the blood rushing in your ears. you remember curtsying one more time before jake takes your hand and leads you and your people out of the throne room.

now, hours later, seated in front of a mirror in an airy room somewhere on the north wing of the castle, you remember to breathe, letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"your grace, are you alright?" olivia asks from behind you, her hand pausing mid-brush as she gathers your hair in her other hand.

you meet her eyes through the mirror and nod.

"yes," you answer. "just a little...tired."

"i would assume so," yuna speaks up from the other side of the room, her slender figure bent over the numerous chests containing your belongings.

"i asked and it turns out we traveled close to a month," yuna rambles. "a month! who takes a month to get from the East to the West?"

you smile at yuna's shrill voice, a comfort from the eerie silence that seems to surround the castle.

"how are you two liking it here so far?" you ask, addressing your two ladies. a palpable pause comes over the room as you wait for their response.

"it's...alright," olivia begins. "better than i expected. i pictured brutes and barbarians to litter the halls but that's a misjudgment on my part, your grace."

"everyone seems kind enough," yuna chimes in. "the king barely said a word so i'm not sure how to feel about him yet."

"better to hold your tongue when speaking of the King of the West, child," you lightly berate. "we don't know who's listening."

olivia and yuna both nod in understanding.

a knock from the door to your room interrupts your discussion.

"come in," you call out. you turn to see another one of your ladies poke their head in before straightening up and bowing.

"your grace," jen, a sprightly lady-in-waiting of yours addresses you.

"i've been informed that the king asks for your presence in his study," jen relays, hands folded in front of her.

time seems to stop as you hear these words. you feel olivia grip your shoulder and you hear a clatter of something as yuna drops it. jen avoids your eyes as the four of you soak in her words.

"well," you say after a moment. "i better make haste, then.

you meet olivia's eyes through the mirror once more and she smiles encouragingly.

---

you ask jen to accompany you this time to give olivia and yuna time for their own personal needs. jen readily agreed, not more than five paces behind you as you make your way to where you were told the king's study is.

the castle is bathed in late afternoon light, a gentle breeze fluttering through the hallways. hardly any noise can be heard save for the occasional footsteps of servants and soft chatter from some of the rooms. your heart hammering against your chest is the only thing that fills your ears constantly.

"this is it, right?" you turn to ask jen. she nods as you two stop in front of an intricately carved door with a heavy golden stag knocker.

"you may take your leave," you tell jen.

"your grace?" jen asks, voice meek. "should i not wait for you out here?"

you shake your head. "i have a feeling neither of us knows how long the king will keep me in there."

jen opens her mouth as if to say something more but she stops, sighing. she nods and bows to you before starting down the hallway.

you turn away from jen's disappearing form, hand grasping at the stag knocker. you pound the heavy metal against the door three times before stepping back, waiting to be let in.

"enter," comes a voice from inside.

you swallow, reaching for the door handle. you give it a turn, the door easily swinging inward. you step through the gap, pressing your lips in a thin line as you anticipate what you might see.

the study is a respectable size, with bookcases adorning nearly every wall. a fireplace crackles with flames at the far left end of the room and a large desk rests in the middle of it all.

hunched over a stack of parchment is King Heeseung himself, a quill twirling lazily between his fingers.

your eyes meet and the king straightens in his seat.

"your grace—"

you pause, having both said the same thing at the same time. to your surprise, King Heeseung offers a smile. not knowing what else to do, you force an uneasy smile back.

"sit with me, my lady," he says, motioning to the chair in front of his desk. you gather your skirts and perch yourself at the very edge of the seat.

no one speaks for what feels like an eternity. the king has paused in his perusing of the parchment in front of him and you've busied yourself with staring at your hands resting on your lap.

"there will be a welcome banquet tonight," King Heeseung's voice cuts through the silence.

"to celebrate your arrival," he continues.

you dip your head low.

"you have my gratitude, your grace," you say mechanically.

King Heeseung clears his throat. "i also arranged for the wedding feast to take place a week from now."

you allow yourself to gaze upon the King of the West, your eyebrows pinching together.

the king sees your expression and pauses.

"but if you wish to either hasten or push back the ceremony, then i'll take it into consideration," King Heeseung hurriedly adds, his sharp eyes rounding into a softer form.

you realize that sitting here, eye level with the king, that he's merely a man like any other. a man who smiles and startles and laughs.

your mind flashes back to your father's beaten and bruised face. your expression falls.

"no, your grace. a week from now is fine," you concede.

a long stretch of silence follows. you avert your eyes to the window to your right, gazing at the vibrant sky painted in the colors of the sunset.

"heeseung," comes the king's voice. you turn to him, a questioning look on your face.

"you can call me heeseung," he clarifies.

your face must have been of utter confusion because the king smiles again.

"we are to be wed, are we not? i would assume that you'd prefer a much more relaxed method of addressing each other." heeseung leans back in his plush seat, awaiting a response.

"of course," you agree. "and you may address me however you wish."

"my betrothed."

the two words roll smoothly off heeseung's tongue and a strange tug pulls at your chest. you nod silently as if to grant permission.

heeseung clears his throat again, pushing himself off his chair. you rise as well but you make no move to look at his face.

you see from the corner of your eye his hand reaching out to you.

"come. the banquet should be starting soon."

you shakily place your hand in his and he gently wraps his fingers around yours.

"after you, my dear betrothed," he says, motioning towards the door.

---

it turns out, a week flies by extremely fast.

you've managed to meet all of the people of importance in heeseung's court in that time, memorizing names and faces and feasting with a number of them.

heeseung hovers around, greeting you as you go about your day but ultimately keeping his distance. you wonder if you should be doing more to prepare for your wedding but you don't dare question any of heeseung's or his council's plans.

in a blink of an eye, the week is over and you're standing in the throne room, draped in your finest garments, practically glittering from head to toe with the jewelry you've brought from home.

heeseung stands tall and regal beside you, his hair perfectly done and his royal regalia adorning his broad frame. strangely enough, his face is what you anchor on for most of the ceremony—a blur of vows and prayers and oaths and finally, a restrained brush of lips to make things official.

the feast may as well have not happened with how blurry your memory of it is. you sat at the high table, watching the festivities but not really seeing anything.

that is, until a particular loud courtier knocks over a chair, bringing down plates and utensils as collateral damage in his drunken state. the noise jars you for a moment but heeseung lays a warm hand on yours to steady you.

and now, sitting on the edge of your bed, stripped down to your undergarments by your reluctant ladies, you shiver at the thought of what your wedding night may bring.

you've heard stories from your ladies and you've been taught enough by the tutors you've had over the years. but to lay with a man such as heeseung, it chills you down to the bone. would he hurt you? would he demand things from you? perhaps kill you?

you shake your head. it would do no good for him to kill you now. you're both in dire need of heirs for your respective domains, him especially now that he's deposited himself as the supreme ruler of all the kingdoms in your land. and even without taking children into consideration, would he really drive in his image as a tyrant? slaying his wife on their wedding night?

your thoughts are dissolved when you hear a knock come from the door. a second later, heeseung walks in, his cape and gloves amiss, and so are the tightly-laced hunting boots, leaving him in his doublet and breeches, wool boots covering his feet.

he almost looks...nervous.

"my b—"

heeseung pauses, taking in a sharp breath.

"my wife."

your head spins as heeseung says these words. you can physically feel the color draining from your face. when heeseung says it like that, it makes it more real, your fate looming over you like an impregnable fortress caging you in.

"yes, your grace?" you respond, trying to sound composed amidst your anxiety.

heeseung studies you for a second before sighing. he tugs his boots off, undoing his doublet right after. he shrugs the garment off, leaving him bare from the waist up. you gasp softly, abruptly turning away.

"you need not address me like that, remember?" heeseung reminds, trudging carefully before coming to a stop in front of you.

he reaches a hand out, attempting to hold a side of your face but you flinch, your whole body lurching at the feeling of his skin against yours.

your heart pounds as you quickly realize the fault in what you just did. you peer up at heeseung, eyes shaking with fear.

you expected anger, annoyance, or even confusion.

but all you see is a pair of despondent eyes looking down at you.

"why are you afraid? why do you fear me?" heeseung asks, voice quiet, defeated.

your insides churn as you try to find the right words. in a moment, the whole ordeal comes crashing down on you, the day's events flashing in your mind, a reminder that this is your life now. you're married to a dictator for the rest of your days.

"shouldn't i be?" you reply, voice stony. "i'd be a fool to not be scared of someone who murdered their own father and waged a war against the entire world."

heeseung remains silent. he heaves a sigh, turning away from you.

"it seems as if it was a mistake to ask for your hand in marriage," heeseung says.

a flicker sparks inside you.

"you didn't ask!" you cry out, voice accusatory. you stand, pulling yourself to your full height. this outrage has sprung from nowhere, seized you fully, summoning all the anger within you.

"you commanded me here, you took me away from my family, my home! i came all the way here to marry an evil man and he suddenly decides that marrying me was a mistake?"

"i gave up everything i had to fulfill a duty i was called to, that you called me to," you continue, placing yourself right in front of heeseung.

"i need you to prove to me that all this is worth it. that i did not come here to be some poor slave to a tyrant! show me and prove me wrong that you're not just some monster that nearly killed my father!"

you feel the air knocked out of you as a pair of lips press against your own. you cry out in surprise but something snaps within you, the final branch needed to let the fire catch and spread.

heeseung is kissing you and you're kissing him, your hands clawing at any part of him you could reach. his own fingers tug at your chemise, pulling it down your shoulders until it slips off your body completely.

"you're sick, forcing yourself on your wife like this," you pant against heeseung's mouth. he undoes his breeches, letting them fall.

"my wife is free to leave if she pleases," heeseung retaliates, kicking off the last of his clothes.

both of you are stark naked now.

you stand there, breathing heavily as you look into each other's eyes.

"your wife will not leave until you've bedded her and put an heir in her womb," you seethe. "that's all she came here for, after all."

heeseung grunts lowly, attacking your lips once more. he shoves you down on the bed, caging you in easily with his firm body. he runs his hands up and down your sides, squeezing and fondling at every piece of flesh he can dig his fingers into. you moan and squirm under his touch, an ache growing between your legs.

"you'll give me as many heirs as i wish," heeseung says as he kisses his way down to your neck. he suckles on a spot just beneath your jaw and the sound of defiance that you originally wanted to let out is caught in your throat.

"of course, so they can usurp you when it's your time," you say through your teeth.

heeseung says nothing, only looks at you, his face pulled down in an angry frown.

"listen here, darling," heeseung commands, voice dipping even lower. he pulls you by your thighs to the edge of the bed, pushing your legs open.

he glances down and you stare at his face as it turns into a look of intrigue, his eyes transfixed on your core.

you're soaking wet, clenching around nothing as your husband continues to survey what's between your legs. he looks back up at you, a hand reaching over to grasp your jaw in one large hand.

"my father was a madman and so was his father before him," heeseung begins and you feel something prod at your entrance. you gasp as half of him is pushed in with a single swivel of heeseung's hips.

"maybe i'll turn out to be one too, but right now, all i did was clean up the mess he made," heeseung continues, fully burying himself inside you. your legs tremble at the painful stretch and all you want is to hide your face away in the sheets but heeseung's firm grip on your face won't let you.

"he started this war," heeseung says accusingly. he draws back, allowing you momentary relief before thrusting back in, a half cry, half moan escaping you.

"yeah, my sweet?" heeseung pauses to address you momentarily, his eyes dark and evidently hungry.

"feel good?"

he doesn't wait for an answer as he lets go of your face in favor of holding your hips tightly between his hands. heeseung sets up a ruthless pace, mouth hanging open as he watches himself slide in and out of you.

you grit your teeth and refuse to look away yourself, gazing upon the face of what might be another in a line of mad kings. your husband, half of who you are now, half of what your children will be.

the thought sickens you to your stomach.

but the delicious fill of his cock deep in you has you quivering with want, breathless with desire. if this is how good it feels to fuck a mad king, then maybe you are the perfect maiden to wed him.

well, not so much a maiden now that he's buried in you to the hilt, one of his hands grabbing at your breast.

his words 'he started this war' echo in your brain, but a shift of heeseung's hips has your eyes rolling back in your head, that thought forgotten momentarily.

"come on my sweet, look at me," heeseung pleads gently. he leans down, nearly flattening his form over your own. he continues to fuck you, thursts shallow in this new position

you hook your own arms around heeseung's neck, meeting his eyes.

"you don't fear me, do you?" heeseung asks laboriously through heavy breaths. "you never did."

you withhold an answer, leaning in to press your lips roughly against heeseung's instead. he growls low in his chest, his hips moving even faster than they already were.

you keep your mouths together, tongues lapping over every expanse of each other. a shiver runs through you as you feel the friction against your core increase, turning rougher and rougher as heeseung seems to lose himself in you.

you pull away, running your fingers through the hair on the back of heeseung's head. you tighten your grip on the strands and heeseung hisses.

"no," you finally answer. "i'm not scared of you so fuck me like you mean it."

the world seems to give out from all around you as the last words escape you, your hips pinned down painfully against the bed. your legs quiver as you feel heeseung pound into you, faster, rougher, harder. you let a sob rip out of you, your whole body seizing as your release slams down on you.

heeseung looks at you and only you, eyes wide and ravenous.

you clench around heeseung and he collapses over you, hands braced on either side of your head, his face scrunched up in pleasure as you feel him throb deep in you. you feel his thick seed warm up your walls and you gasp softly, your body finally relaxing.

you lay there, weak and unmoving, as heeseung pulls out and rolls off you. he comes to rest on one side of you, his hair tickling your shoulder. without another word, heeseung pushes himself up and retrieves his discarded breeches off the floor.

your heart sinks as you think that he's about to leave. your throat tightens, the thought of being used just like that, despite being his wife, his queen, repulsing you so badly.

but heeseung doesn't walk out the door. he loosely strings up his breeches and walks over to the vanity on the other side of the room. you failed to notice when you came in the first time the bowl of water and washcloth resting beside it.

heeseung wets the cloth, wringing it momentarily before walking back over to you. you've propped yourself on your elbows now, watching his every move.

"sit up, my sweet," heeseung implores gently, seating himself beside you.

you oblige, wincing at the slight sting between your legs as you shift into a more comfortable position. heeseung starts with your face, smoothing over your cheeks with the cloth, the cooled water bringing out a sigh of relief.

he moves to wipe at your neck, then your chest. he peers down at you, laying a gentle hand on your thigh.

"let me clean down there too," heeseung says. you nod, feeling vulnerable under his watch. you part your sore thighs, letting heeseung swipe away at the stickiness.

heeseung finishes and returns the washcloth to the bowl. he picks your chemise up on the way back to you, placing it in your hands. you wordlessly stand, pulling the thin fabric over you, overtly aware of heeseung watching you from where he sits on the bed.

you turn back to him and he's gazing up at you, expression softer than all of the other times. he reaches a hand out shakily, as if hesitant, and you take it, stepping between his parted knees.

he places his hands on our lower back as if to cradle you. before you could stop yourself, you let your hand smooth back some of his silvery locks of hair.

"he—my father—sent those decrees of war out when he realized i was on to him," heeseung mumbles.

you nod gently, signaling him to go on.

"i found out he'd been plotting this war for years right under my nose. i was brought up to command my father's army but i never knew it was for this," he continues.

"i begged him to stop but you can't reason with someone mad," heeseung says, voice shaking.

looking at him now, eyes so doe-like and piercing straight through your own, you realize that underneath what you called a tyrant, he was just a boy willing his father to do right.

"i had to end it one way or another," heeseung continues, head bowing.

you pull him to you, cradling him against your chest. you feel heeseng's arms tighten around your torso.

"but by the time i had dealt the final blow, it was too late. the decrees were sent and i had no choice but to fight the war he left me with."

your chest constricts.

"why not just take the decrees back, admit surrender?" you ask quietly. heeseung looks up at you and you're struck by how handsome he looks when he's not acting like the king he is.

soft lips, the delicate turn of his nose, fluttering eyelashes.

"i was already a kinslayer and a kingslayer. i couldn't lose everything after that," heeseung whispers, brows pinched together as if begging you to believe him.

a flurry of emotions course through you. despite this, you smile apologetically.

you bend down slightly, placing a gentle kiss on heeseung's forehead.

"i don't fear you," you whisper against his skin. you feel him deflate beneath your touch.

"but there is so much more i need to understand about you, husband."

heeseung pulls away and nods. he takes your hands in his, kissing your knuckles.

"and i'll try my hardest to make you understand. i don't expect forgiveness, just your open heart and open eyes to see who i really am."

you afford yourself another smile. you lean down once more, kissing heeseung softly.

"they're wide open, my King."

#enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #heeseung scenarios #heeseung smut #w: heeseung

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minniesmutt · 7 months ago

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☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: HYUNJIN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: ALIEN!HYUNJIN, PLANETARY SCIENTIST!READER, SEMI-PUBLIC SEX, BREEDING, APHRODISIAC, SPIT, LIP BITING, TEASING, PET NAMES (DOLL, HUN, DARLING, BABY), NIPPLE PLAY, FINGERING, OVERSIM, READER IS VERY SENSITIVE THE WHOLE TIME, BIG COCK! HYUNJIN, TENTACLES, PRAISE/DEGRADING, CERVIX FUCKING, EGG IMPLANTING, ROUGH SEX, UNPROTECTED SEX, DOM!HYUNJIN, SUB!READER, SUBSPACE (?), TUMMY BULDGE (?), INFLATION (?) ☾ ━━━ WC: 2.8K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

Space was massive. So much to learn about, star formations, their life cycle, other galaxies, planets, and solar systems. The unknown drew Y/n in. Maybe that’s why she fell for Hyunjin so hard.

He was different. Loved the fact she was a planetary scientist. Constantly asked her questions that had her rambling for hours on end. First, it embarrassed her but he always reassured her he found it so adorable when she rambled about her work. He loved hearing about her theories on extraterrestrial life. Not knowing he crash-landed on Earth from another planet.

At least, she didn’t know at first. She had a deep feeling there was something about him that just wasn’t right. Came up with several hypotheses before he sat her down when he came to pick her up from work and explained to her he was indeed an alien.

He was scared. Scared he’d lose her and be stuck alone on Earth until he figured out how to get his stupid ship working again.

But that didn’t happen. No, he saw her eyes sparkle with excitement over the news. Running around her private lab asking him if any of the planets she’d found were his. What was it like in his home world? How was the air? technology? any question that popped into her head

He was sure she was going to implode with excitement the more questions she thought of. That was the night he first kissed her too. It was only a few months ago it happened but it almost seemed like years away.

Since then, he picked her up from work every night. It was rare they left on time. Y/n easily indulged in her work, especially when she could interview an actual alien about his home world. Tonight was no different.

She was so engrossed in her work that she didn’t even hear him come into the lab. Focused on her computer, examining photos of a planet and its moons. She didn’t hear him come in. He closed the door as gently as he could behind him and silently made his way over to her. He stood behind her and slowly leaned down with the intent to kiss the top of her head.

Y/n felt someone behind her and looked back to see the handsome alien pouting at his failed kiss, “Hi Hyune.”

“Ruined my surprise kiss.”

“Can I still get a kiss?”

Hyunjin smiled and cupped her face and pecked her lips, “How’s work?”

“Mhmm. Not bad, just trying to figure out if this planet could sustain life.”

Hyunjin took a look at the planet on the screen. It was a few lightyears away from his own and he’d seen it a couple of times traveling.

“A small one, I think. I can’t exactly remember,” Hyunjin stated as he pulled up a chair next to her

Y/n smiled at him, “I should press you for info on all my exoplanet discoveries.”

“Do I get a reward for all my info?” Hyunjin smiled, pulling her chair closer to him.

“Maybe.”

Hyunjin pulled her into his lap and she squeaked in surprise. Holding onto his shoulders before settling on his lap. “I want a kiss for every piece of alien info I tell you,” Hyunjin stated

“Deal.” Y/n figured it would be harmless. A kiss for info and she got to cuddle her boyfriend while working? Score.

She rewarded him with a peck on his plump lips for the info he previously provided her. She went through some more plants and asked him questions, rewarding him with kisses after he finished answering.

“What about reproduction? Is it similar for all species or is it different?” She asked

“Different. Some have eggs, some are similar to how humans breed. Most species I know have a breeding season.” Hyunjin explained.

Y/n pecked his lips, “What about you? What’s your species’ reproduction like?”

“Mhm. Most liquids in our bodies are similar to aphrodisiacs. It makes the process easier for the female.”

“Process?” Y/n asked

“Hm. Kiss first,” Hyunjin puckered his lips at her

Y/n pecked his lips again. “What process?”

“Egg implanting.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide. Her ears felt like they were on fire, mouth wide open. Hyunjin chuckled and closed her jaw before pecking her lips.

“Don’t go too dumb on me yet doll,” Hyunjin teased, placing a kiss on her shoulder

“When—“ Y/n cleared her throat before wrapping her arms around his neck, “When’s your breeding season?”

“Mm, should be starting in a couple of days.”

Y/n pecked his lips one last time, “Let’s go home, that’s enough information for today.”

Two days went by far too slowly. Y/n used the prior day to let the information her boyfriend had told her to settle in. Today, she was so unfocused with work. The day was going by way too slowly. Most of the time was spent thinking about what he had said.

She read stories on the internet of people claiming they’d been abducted by aliens— in most cases “Grays”— and essentially became a human incubator. The truth behind them was up for debate. No one ever had evidence other than the supposed victim’s word.

Y/n was lost in her thoughts thinking about it when she felt arms wrap around her waist. She jumped and turned around, being met with the smiling face of her boyfriend calmed her down.

“You alright?” he asked

“Yeah. Just scared me,” She replied as she turned in his arms and kissed his lips.

Hyunjin smiled into the kiss and kissed, holding onto her hips. “What’s got you lost in thought?” He asked as he broke the kiss.

Y/n couldn't find the words to tell him what it was she was thinking about. How do you tell your alien boyfriend you’d been thinking about him breeding you for two days?

“Talk to me hun,” Hyuniin said and kissed her cheek.

“Do you remember when we were talking about, uhm… you're breeding season,” Y/n started

“Yeah, why?”

“Don’t make me say it Hyune,” Y/n pleaded, face all red

“But how will I know what you want if you don't tell me?”

Hyunjin slowly backed her up into her desk. Y/n gripped his shirt, trying to gather any bit of courage to tell him.

Hyunjin grabbed her chin and lifted her lips to his. He licked his lower lip before pushing them onto her again. Y/n relaxed against him as she sat on her desk. Hyunjins hands moved up to cup her face, tilting her head back and deepening the kiss.

Y/n moaned against his lips, gripping his shirt tighter. Hyunjin pulled her bottom lip between his teeth and pulled away from the kiss. He locked eyes with her before releasing her lip. “Tell me what you want darling.”

“Want you to breed me,” Y/n finally let out

“Open your mouth,” Hyunjin smiled as he held her jaw as it fell open, “Tongue out.”

Y/n stuck her tongue out for him. Hyunjin hovered over her and let a glob of spit drop from his lips onto her tongue. “Swallow.”

Hyunjin watched her pull her tongue back into her mouth and swallow his spit. He tilted her head back and leaned down to kiss her neck and pull her legs around his waist. “Remember when I said most liquids in my body were similar to an aphrodisiac?” Hyunjin questioned

“Yes,” Y/n replied as his lips grazed over the weak spot on her neck

“Saliva is the main one.”

Her body felt so hot to every little touch. She wrapped her arms around his neck to hold herself up and he placed wet open mouth kisses on her neck. Pulling herself closer to him as his hands trailed down to unbutton her top.

He was quick to get the fabric off her and toss it to the ground. Hands grabbing her breasts and massaging them as he sucked his mark onto her neck.

Her hands pulled up at the collar of his shirt. Mumbling a quick “off” before he pulled away and tossed his shirt off. He grabbed her face again to bring his lips onto hers. Y/n caught a glimpse of his eyes before he was shoving his tongue down her throat. His usual dark brown eyes were a striking dark blue, the whites turning dark.

“Jinnie,” Y/n moaned after he pulled away and pushed the objects behind her out of the way, “your eyes…”

“What about them?” he asked as he looked over her face

“They changed.”

“Happens during arousal during the breeding process.” He briefly explained, unhooking her bra and pulling it off her chest.

He pushed her down on the desk and attacked her nipples. His hands slid under the skirt she wore today and his tongue flicked her nipples. He switched to the other bud and gave it the same brief treatment then pulled away.

Hyunjin pulled the remaining bit of fabric off her body till she was completely nude on her desk. He’d seen her completely nude before. His aphrodisiac saliva explained why everything felt so good when they’d had sex previously.

His physical appearance was very similar to humans. His eyes made her shy under his gaze. Her legs wrapped tighter around his waist as her hands moved to cover her chest. Hyunjin was quicker and pinned her wrists against the table.

“Don't. Wanna see you,” Hyunjin said as he leaned in and kissed her again. Both moaned into the kiss. Y/n snuck her tongue into his mouth.

Hyunjin pushed back with his own. Y/n ground her hips against his crotch.

“Need you Jinnie,” Y/n moaned when he pulled away

“All shy a second ago, now you're beginning for me.” Hyunjin chuckled as his hand dipped down between her legs.

His lips attached to her neck again, two fingers running through her wet folds. “Fucking soaked, all for me.” he groaned as he pushed two long fingers into her. Y/n just about came right there, probably just because of the aphrodisiac.

His fingers curled up into her. Her free hand grabbed onto his arm to ground herself, even a little. She felt so fucked out and they’d barely done anything too far.

“All sensitive aren't you,” Hyunjin teased as his lips came down to her breast again, “My pretty doll gonna come yet?”

“Yes! Please Jinnie! Wanna come for you!”

Hyunjin wrapped his lips around one of her hard nipples as he interested a third finger into her. Switching from curling his fingers into her to thrusting into her.

Her back arched off the surface as a silent screen fell from her mouth. Walls clamping down on his fingers. The knot in her stomach snapped soon after he started sucking on her nipples. Hyunjin fingered her through her high, pulling off her nipples and pulling his fingers out once she came down.

While she caught her breath, Hyunjin discarded his pants. Y/n glanced down at him as he pulled his cock out of his boxers. Somewhere in the back of her mind was questioning how exactly the egg implanting worked since his dick looked like a human dick. It was not in length, that was for sure.

Hyunjin grabbed her legs and pushed them wide open. “Are you ready hun?” he asked, lining his tip at her entrance, smearing his precum between her folds with her slick.

Y/n nodded, then she noticed the appendages sneaking out around his waist. Before she had time to ask, he pushed into her, fitting what he could before her cervix. There wasn’t any pain, just pleasure. His hands left her thighs and the two tentacles took over holding them open. His hands wrapped around hers and pinned her down onto the table below.

“You have tentacles too?” Y/n asked as she got adjusted to his length in her

“Yeah. Seven total,” He huffed

“Why are you only using two?”

Hyunjin smirked as three more came from over his shoulders Two wrapped around her breasts, tips latching onto her nipples as he started thrusting in and out of her. The third hovered and waited to be put to use. No time for her to ask where the sixth and seventh were.

The tentacles wrapped around her were smooth against her skin. Still sensitive from foreplay and his aphrodisiac spit. She was assuming his precum was another aphrodisiac.

Her back was already arching off the desk again as he stood back to watch her as he fucked her. He moved the third tentacle from to pin her arms down onto the desk above her head.

“Wish you could see yourself, baby. Look so good with my tentacles wrapped around you.” Hyunjin chuckled, picking up his pace.

The tentacles around her thighs helped by moving her body with his thrusts, lifting her off the desk just slightly.

“So deep,” Y/n moaned as her head lolled back against her desk, mouth hung open

Hyunjin laughed, he didn't know how much he’d enjoy having her all wrapped and dumb on his cock. “I could be deeper hun.”

“Please Jin… more,” Y/n moaned

Hyunjin smiled and pushed his hair back, shorter pieces sticking to his forehead from the sweat he had worked up. He leaned down and spit in her open mouth. Y/n swallowed it as he grabbed onto her hips, stilling inside her for a moment.

He pulled out for a moment, spitting in her cunt then pushing back in. But his dick felt different. No veins brushing against her gummy walls. It felt like there was nothing, but she knew he was filling her up.

Then she felt it. Something small wiggling its way past her cervix. “Jinnie.” Y/n whined as it got wider, pushing its way into her womb

“Relax doll. I got you,” Hyunjin shushed her. A smaller skinnier tentacle came from above his dick and latched onto her clit.

“Oh fuck,” Y/n’s voice jumped a good few octaves

“That’s my girl,” Hyunjin praised as filled her womb up. He could see his tip under her skin.

He picked his pace back up, fucking into her cervix as she became a babbling mess. This was such a normal thing for his species to go through during sex. But he loved seeing his human girlfriend all fucked out like this.

“Gonna carry my eggs for me doll? Be a good fucking incubator?” he groaned, his tentacles moving her body to meet his thrusts.

The tentacle holding her wrist brought her hands to him. Hyunjin grabbed her hands and pressed them onto her lower stomach. “You feel that doll?” Hyunjin asked

“Yes,” Y/n weakly answered

“Want you the feel me fill you up.”

He thrusted harder into her and the smaller tentacle worked her clit into hypersensitivity as he came all over him, liquids squirted out of her. The tentacle retracted back into him once it finished its job. The remaining still holding onto her and working her now swollen nipples and fucking her onto him.

“Such a good fucking hole,” Hyunjin groaned as he stilled, cum shooting into her womb.

Y/n could feel inside her and under her hand, small little balls filling her up along with his cum.

“‘S too much Jinnie,” Y/n whined as he pressed her hands into her harder

“You’re doing so good, baby. You can hold out a little longer till Jinnie’s done filling you with his eggs, right?” he pulled her up and attached his lips to hers, letting the eggs travel from him into her womb.

Once he was finished, he pulled out of her and laid her gently on the desk. Tentacles retracted into him again as she caught her breath, eyes drooping closed.

“Hyune,” Y/n called weakly

“Right here baby,” He said as he pulled her into his body

“Tired,” she grumbled.

“Go to sleep. I’ll get us home baby.”

Sleep she did. She didn't know how long she was going for but she woke up in the comfort of her bed with Hyunjin laying next to her, arms wrapped around her as he scrolled through his phone.

“Hyune,” she called

“Morning sleepy head,” he said as he put his phone down, “how are you feeling?”

“Fuzzy, weird. What happened?”

“You passed out not long after we finished. I got us dressed and brought you home to clean you up. Was waiting for you to wake up to order food.”

“Hm. Dinner sounds good right now.”

The two ordered dinner and Hyunjin grabbed it and brought it into the room when it got to her place. Feeding her even though she claimed she could do it herself.

While he was cleaning up from dinner, Y/n looked under her shirt. She could see a slight bump under the skin. Hyunjin walked into the room seconds later and lay on her lap, kissing her stomach.

“Think we’ll have little alien babies?” Y/n asked

“If they take. I’ve never bred before, let alone outside my home world.” he said, “either way, you look fucking gorgeous carrying my eggs.”

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST TIP JAR

☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

#☾━━━━ [𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒]#stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x reader smut #skz smut #skz x reader smut #skz #stray kids smut #hyunjin x reader smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader smut #hwang hyunjin smut #☾━━━━ [ a different breed mini series]

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wolverinesleftclaw · 5 months ago

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passenger princess +18

warning : kinda dark at some points, age gap, kinda public sex, afab, age gap, fem!reader, peachesxlogan, slight manipulation, dacryphilia kinda, pure smut, little plot, spitting, choking, fingering, breeding kink, creampie, dom!logan, kinda mean logan, not proofread!

a/n : wrote this sitting by the pool today, makes me think i’m solar powered or something cause i cooked lowkey.

written for my dear : @journal3sposts 💌 word count : 1.5k

you’d been here before. tipsy after a night out with ness and wade, in the passenger seat of logan’s car basically begging him to fuck you. the man had self control for the gods and you hated it.

the age gap between you and logan was substantial, you being the young age of twenty three. logan may not have looked a day over forty-five physically but sexually he had a hard time keeping up with you. especially when alcohol got involved.

you’re argument whenever he’d bring up how much you need him being ‘have you seen yourself? you’d want to fuck you too’

tonight was no different. except for the fact that not matter what happened he was fucking you in this car.

you turned in your seat to face logan pulling his hand higher on your thigh.

‘cmon lo, please jus’ wanna feel you’ you beg running your hand up his muscular arm to his neck turning his head toward you.

logan’s eyes stared down into you intimidatingly a small smirk gracing his beautiful face.

‘no’

roughly moving his head out of your hand facing the road again. huffing your cross your arms turning your body to face the window trying to hide your mischievous smile.

‘your seriously turning me down’

‘yes peaches i am’

‘i would’ve taken one of those guys from the bar home then if i knew you weren’t going to fuck me’ you snark out shaking his hand off your thigh ‘their young too, could probably keep up with me. i know you saw the way they all stared at me, at least someone wants me’

you don’t miss the way his hand flexes around the steering wheel and his jaw tightening before looking over at you.

‘you’re being a brat’ he bluntly states

‘yea and what are you going to do about it’ you sass out keeping your gaze locked on the outside view, your thighs clenching together for friction.

‘i’m gunna bring you back to the bar so you can go get one of those guys’

you’re head snaps up to look at him in panic watching him take a left turn instead of the usual right turn.

‘wait what’ you question

‘cmon you can’t be that dumb doll, i’m taking you to find someone who can keep up with you’ he glares

‘no lo, i was just kidding’ you rush out grabbing his forearm in protest ‘only want you’

‘mhm’ he hums, you notice the bar coming back into your line of vision your grip getting tighter on his arm.

‘please baby i promise i don’t want any of them’

you always did this. talked yourself into a hole and then couldn’t get out. one thing you knew for sure is that there was no other man for you.

‘i don’t know…’ his tone borderline mocking, not that you notice too caught up in the way he pulls the car around the back of the bar.

‘i promise lo’ you beg as he puts the car in park.

logan turns his whole body to face you, his broad shoulders blocking your view outside his window. he stares at you the tears lining your eyes from frustration, the pleading look adorning your soft features.

fuck it turned him on.

you loved playing your games, he knew that. but he wasn’t an idiot he could play the games too. i’m his opinion he could play them better.

he knew how to manipulate you to get you to do whatever he wanted, and in this moment he wanted you to beg for his forgiveness, not because he did anything wrong but because he wanted you to remind that you couldn’t live without him.

he could hear your heart, the never ending fast paced rhythm almost irregular at this point.

he could smell your arousal, how even though you were a nervous wreck thinking he was leaving you here you still wanted him bad enough.

he liked that.

true to his nature in that moment you were his prey, sitting pretty on the leather seats in his car.

his favorite fantasy.

eyes blown wide you waited for his next move, you feared it would never come.

you were surprised when his rough hands grabbed either side of your face roughly kissing you, grabbing you by your waist pulling you into his lap.

you clung onto him as if you let go he’d disappear. your movements desperate, grinding down onto his growing bulge.

you moan out when he bites your lip harshly drawing blood, you hands run up his neck and into his hair breaking the kiss ‘need you so bad’ you mumble out

‘you’ll always need me huh peaches?’ he grunts out bringing the bottom of your dress just above your hips ‘no panties tonight’ he questions

nodding your head and biting your lip with a smile on your face he groans.

‘what am i gunna do with you’

‘fuck me’

‘no i don’t think you deserve that yet’ he hums his hand finding solace on your upper thigh is fingers tracing small circles all the up to where you needed him most.

bucking your hips in a poor attempt to get him to touch you he withdraws his hand entirely looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

‘what do you want’ he asks his hand moving to your face his finger tracing you jaw.

you heavy breathing only stirring him on more as you breath out ‘i want you to touch me’

he chuckles lightly shaking his head ‘yea? where?’ he says.

your cheeks turn red as you bury your face into his neck leaving kisses in your wake. ‘please don’t make me say it’ you beg

his hand runs up your bag finding it’s place in your hair tugging hard removing your head from his neck, he turns your head downwards to face him. ‘say it’ he demands his eyes darkening at your defiance.

‘want you to touch my pussy please lo’ you cry out as soon as the words leave your mouth, him plunging his middle and ring finger into your tight cunt.

‘like this’ he questions never stopping the never ending curl of his fingers inside you.

‘yes, oh god’ you moan out your hips meeting each thrust of his fingers, his lips moving from your jaw to your neck.

you moan out when he sinks his canines into the side of your neck roughly. ‘gunna cum for me peaches?’

unable to form a solid thought you nod your head throwing his back closing your eyes.

‘gotta look at me when you cum around my fingers darlin’ he speaks roughly bring my head back to focus on him.

the bubble in your lower stomach tightening enough that it sends you over the edge, your hips freezing their movements, your grip tightening on the man before you as you come undone for what’s most likely the first time tonight.

holding you tight against his chest logan lights you up enough for him to free his cock from its confines. letting a string of spit fall onto his member he throws his head back as his moves his hand around the head.

‘m gunna fuck you now peaches’ he grunts out before slamming you down onto his member. not even giving you the chance to adjust to his length before he’s pushing you up and down making you take all of him.

you couldn’t form a single thought other than how no man will ever be able to satisfy you in the way logan does.

his name leaving your mouth like he was your god and you were on you knees for him.

his hand finds it place on your neck squeezing both sides of it cutting off your air supply.

‘this is what you wanted huh peaches? for me to fuck you like the whore you are in the parking lot where anyone of those boys can see just how good i fuck you’ he speaks roughly, his grip never letting up, his thumb pushing under your chin so you were looking up at him.

‘open’ he commands collecting his saliva in his mouth loosing his hold on your neck.

you oblige, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out ready for him.

he spits harshly in your mouth, the grip on your neck tightening again ‘swallow it’ he continues his assault on your cunt.

you felt the familiar warmth spreading throughout your body as your obeyed him swallowing. the tight band flexing beyond its limit as you clench unrelentingly around his cock.

‘that’s it’s peaches you gunna cum with me huh?’ he grunted his movements turning sloppy ‘gunna let me fill you up huh? give you my babies so you can never leave me’

his words throwing you over the edge as you scream out his name clamping down on him with shaking legs as he cums inside of you, grunting and groaning in your ear as he comes down from his high.

breathing heavily he throws his head against the head rest, still inside of you he gives you a lazy smile.

‘can’t keep up with you? not sure if your gunna be able to keep up with me, cause we’re not done here peaches’

taglist : my bby @cevansbaby-dove @rogueinmymind @rosewine-5 @caramelatae @catastrophe8866slut @barnes1487d @lexiway121 @ms-e-com @nayyomi @spookyfunhottub @megangovier @aphestina @txtgojou @its-not-about-angels @sammysvers @modrooli @twinky-wink @orisquirrelking @car1er @sseleniaa @nudziaraaa @pinkfloydsimp @scarlett-witchhh @shiawaseorii @sephirothhh @sturnizd @chaoticweirdogeek @magpiemayhem @hearts4suri @f4tnu663ts @tvdxavatarxst @vivas-xiv @k1t-k4ts @hettie1spam @sssprivlmaoo @rockytheluver @saturnluvvr @mysticpidge @sl4sh3r @ginamcflurry @malavera @reynaandeny @rissararity @angellreads @xoxoloverb

#logan howlett smut #logan howlett #hugh jackman #deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett x reader #tony stark #iron man #wolverine smut #wolverine #deadpool

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hezzabeth · 1 year ago

Text

"For the last time, that poem isn't romantic! It's insulting," Revati yelled over her shoulder as she began to pedal.

The layout of Olde Landon had been deliberately designed to keep tourists inside for as long as possible. There was only one way to access the front gates, and that involved defeating the Queen of Hearts' hedge maze. When the park was still open, tourists would be forced to spend at least an hour in the maze, stumbling upon tiny toy shops and food stands around every corner. The same thing occurred when they left, resulting in a very rich park and bankrupt guests. Now the maze was overgrown and easy enough to navigate.

Revati pedaled past the cart that once sold her heart-shaped sunglasses. Then she turned left, almost crashing into the wall of roses. The wall of roses stared back at her, their red blooms heavy and suspicious. Thanks to Bridgadeiro, she knew they were probably secretly insulting her.

The next turn consisted of an old stardust popcorn stand. Revati skidded to a stop and inspected the inside tray, where a few ancient kernels lay. Carefully, she picked up several of them and placed them in her jacket pocket. As far as she could tell, the kernels were seeds. Someone was shifting around the corner, causing the branches to shake.

"Aurora, is that you? Did you go ahead of me?" Revati yelled.

"While conferring in the labyrinth where false preachers reeked of death, the monster began to growl," a voice called from around the corner. An unfamiliar, flat female voice. Raiders. Raiders were, of course, an occupational hazard in any post-apocalyptic settlement. Normally, they never made it further than the broken glass pit at the park's gates. Sometimes Dityaa would bring one in, insisting they were "lovely," which always led to awkward dinners.

Revati slowly walked around the maze corner. There was a screeching metallic sound, and the weapon fell from Revati's hand. An android was slumped over on the ground. Once it would have been golden, but now it was rusty and covered in mud. Someone had ripped its legs off, leaving nothing but wires and tubes spitting bright blue fluid. Instead of a torso, there was a black empty hole with a concave door swinging on its bent hinges.

"And in the forgotten twists, footsteps quicken, hearts beat, and teeth are bared," the android chirped, its voice still distorted and far away. The android's face was a beautiful mask. Still-carved eyes. Unmoving sweet lips.

Revati powered up her solar gun and slowly walked forward, aiming it at the android. The android's metal eyes scraped in their sockets, turning towards her.

“Is that you? My darling Perdita?” The android’s voice whispered, the lips unmoving. The whispering voice had a posh lilt to its accent. Revati refused to answer. It was best to never engage with AI.

“Perdita, I clawed my way in! They know about you; the spider knows,” the android whispered before collapsing completely.

Revati slowly walked forward, still holding her weapon. With one foot, she kicked the android. It didn’t move. Its power had definitely died.

“Spider? Is that some sort of gang?” Revati whispered to herself. Gangs were always given stupid names.

“The spider is us; the spider is legion,” a flat robotic voice called out, and Revati spun around.

Queen Victoria was standing behind her, scorch marks all over her dress. A faint blue glow was erupting from beneath the skin of Queen Victoria’s chest.

#comic #magic #nanowrimo #nanowrimo2023 #science fiction #creative writing #occ #speculative worldbuilding #speculative fiction #scifi #yafiction #scifi comedy #life on mars

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saintlucretia · 5 months ago

Text

Wrong Company For A Teenage Girl

Pairings: James Patrick March x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence. Death. Mentions of rape. Attempted rape. Alcohol. Smoking. Blood. Murder. Gore. The one and only James Patrick March.

Summary: Y/N is meeting Mr. March who wants her to become his protégé.

A/N: You can read this as a prequel to Melancholy Of A Sinner or as an independent work.

I wasn’t planning to kill him. It's not that I haven't thought about it though. But it still was an accident. It was his fault, not mine.

He was almost begging to be killed. I mean, I saw it in his eyes. Anyway, he should have watched his mouth. And hands. It’s not my fault that he was a jerk. You can’t harass a girl and think there would be no consequences.

So there I was, standing in the hotel room with a knife in my hands and the dead body of my brother on the floor. We weren’t blood-related though. I had never known my real parents. I never really had a family. So I guess it’s not a big deal that I killed him. The world should say ‘thank you’ because I rid it of such a bastard.

He looked pretty dead, but I decided to check his pulse in advance. I stepped closer and bent over the body. Dark blood was still flowing pulsatingly from the wound, where I stabbed him, right into the throat. It looked fascinating. He wasn’t breathing. I watched his face for a few seconds and spit on it. He died too quickly. Maybe I should have cut out his tongue while he was still alive? It would be symbolic. Or perhaps I should have chopped off his arms? It would probably satisfy me.

I leaned closer and plunged the knife into his chest with both of my hands. I pressed it with my whole body and the knife went into his solar plexus with a squelch. There was no actual sense, I just wanted to pierce this motherfucker once again. I took a few steps away from his body. Masterpiece.

“If you wanted to reach his heart, you should have struck a little to the right.” A deep voice behind me said, making me jump in place. I quickly turned around and saw a man, dressed like he just walked out of the black-and-white movie.

The man smiled. It wasn’t a friendly smile. “I am impressed.” He said as his eyes scanned my body “You handled this whole situation quite well for a little girl like you.”

I felt myself shaking a little, as I looked him up and down. Pale skin, black hair, a pencil mustache, perfectly ironed clothes. And this odd accent. He didn’t seem like a cop.

“Who are you?” I demanded, taking a step back.

“My name is James March, I own this hotel.” He smiled charmingly, stepping closer. “And can I know the name of the lady?”

I swallowed hard. I didn’t want to tell him my name. How the hell did he enter? He was tall, towering above me, but it wasn’t his height that made me nervous, it was his eyes. They were dark and intense, like two pools of cold black water. No, I can’t go to jail.

“It was an accident, sir, I swear.” I managed to mumble weakly glancing at the body. “I was so scared-”

“Oh, don’t act coy, I saw the whole scene. You shoved the dagger into his throat with animalistic hunger.” He was enjoying himself. I felt my body tense up at his words. It sounded like he relished in my violence like he was admiring a great work of art.

“You’re sick,” I said, more to myself than to him.

He laughed, a deep, booming sound that echoed in the empty room. “Oh, darling, I don’t think you are in a situation to say that. Look at you, you are head to toe covered in blood.”

I looked down at my body. My clothes were stained with drops of red, blood made my hands sticky.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, almost whimpering. Maybe a fake hysteria could convince him of my innocence.

He took another step closer, and I could smell his scent. It was a mix of tobacco and something else, something unfamiliar, masculine, and intoxicating. I felt dizzy.

“No need to be scared, darling,” He said in a low, soothing voice. “I want to help you.”

“Help me? Why?” I watched him intently.

“Because I appreciate great work.” He nodded toward the dead body. “There is nothing to be ashamed of, that pathetic parody of a man deserved such fate.”

“You think it was a great work?” I asked, my voice a bit trembling. It wasn’t fear, it was shock.

“Indeed.” He chuckled softly. “Now, let’s clean the mess.”

He whistled and in a few moments, a maid walked into the room. “Did you call me, sir?”

“Please, Ms. Evers, get rid of the body, while I am taking care of our guest,” said James, gently taking me by my shoulders and pushing me toward the door.

He led me out of the room with a firm grip. I was too stunned to protest.

I stumbled after him, my knees trembling like jelly. The hotel hallway was deserted. The sound of our footsteps echoed between the walls.

“Where are you taking me?” I croaked, finally finding my voice.

“Room, where we can discuss the whole situation. You don’t have to worry, darling, I have no intention of hurting you.”

I wanted to believe him, he sounded convincing. I had nowhere to go anyway. Maybe it wasn’t that bad.

I followed him meekly as he led me through the elegant corridors of the hotel. The silence was deafening. Well, at least they didn’t call the cops. Probably, Cortez had a reputation as a killer-hotel for a reason.

Finally, we arrived at the room and James opened the door. He ushered me inside.

“Please sit down, darling,” He said gesturing toward the armchair, as he closed the door.

The room was spacious and luxurious, with dark red walls and a large four-poster bed covered with silky black-and-silver bedding. It was filled with vintage furniture. Quiet jazz music was coming out of the record player. I sat down, feeling small and insignificant.

James walked over to the sideboard and poured himself a glass of whiskey. “How old are you, exactly?”

“Eighteen,” I answered slowly, gaining confidence.

“Ah, you truly are a miracle. Such a fire in a fragile body. You are ravishing, my dear.”

I glanced at the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. My blood-stained “AC/DC” t-shirt and jean shorts made my reflection look comic in such a luxurious atmosphere.

James smiled, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. “Are you... uncomfortable?”

I clutched the fabric of my shorts nervously, feeling self-conscious. “I should change my clothes-”

"Don't be silly, darling. You look just fine." He purred, pulling out a cigar.

“What is going to happen?” I asked, carefully looking around the room. I spotted a little knife on the desk. Envelope opener. Bingo.

“I want to talk with you. It’s rare to meet such a person. You intrigue me.” He answered, giving me a charming smile. He looked like a sick pervert. Handsome and gentle, but yet.

“Can I have a glass of water?” I tried to sound pitiful.

“Of course.” James walked to a small table in the far corner of the room, turning his back to me.

I silently rose from my chair. My sneakers didn't make a sound on the terry carpet. I took a few steps and reached for the knife on a desk already turning to return to my seat. I grabbed the knife and hid it behind my back. My heart was pounding in my chest as I quickly settled back in my chair.

James turned around, a glass of water in his hand, and walked toward me. He handed me a glass and took a seat in front of me.

He leaned back in his armchair, and took a sip of his whiskey, watching me intently. He didn't say a word, he just watched me.

"Have you ever killed anyone before?" he asked finally, breaking the silence.

“No.”

"So it’s your first time. My congratulations." He chuckled, his eyes scanning me again. “And so eager to kill again, hm?”

“What-”

“Darling, I saw you taking the knife. I’m not stupid.” He smiled, taking a drag of his cigar.

I tensed, my heart rate increasing as he called me out. I gripped the envelope opener tightly in my hand, feeling a pang of panic.

"I..." I began, trying to come up with a lie. “I’m scared…”

James chuckled and took another sip of his whiskey.

"You are incredible," he said, his eyes never leaving my face. "Such talent of manipulation in a fragile little body. I think you are just the right one."

I swallowed hard, looking down. He was smarter than I expected.

“Right one?” I repeated.

James nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Yes, my dear. I have a... proposition for you."

He leaned forward in his seat, his gaze unwavering.

"You have a certain talent, darling. A talent that needs to be nurtured, not wasted. You can become a legend." He continued. “In your tiny little heart, you know, you are a killer.”

James' eyes glistened with excitement, and I could feel the intensity of his gaze. There was something dark and dangerous in how he looked at me.

"Did you enjoy it?" He asked, his voice low and almost intimate. "Did you enjoy the thrill of watching the life drain from his eyes?"

I glanced at him. His voice was hypnotizing. I nodded carefully, I didn’t want to admit it out loud. James chuckled, noticing my reaction.

"Yes, you did," he said, sipping his whiskey. "But let me ask you this, darling, do you feel like it’s not enough?"

He leaned forward again, his eyes fixing me. James smiled as if he had seen something in my gaze.

"Yes, darling," He said, his voice soft and soothing. "It's never enough, is it? The first killing gave you satisfaction for a few moments, but the adrenaline and the rush faded quickly."

He leaned back in his chair and took a deep drag on his cigar. I felt a chill run down my spine. How could he know so much? I kept my eyes fixed on the floor, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

“How can you know that I felt that way?” I whispered.

“Because you are just like me.” There was something in the way he said it that made me shiver. I slowly looked up, meeting his gaze.

"Like you?" I repeated, not sure I wanted to hear the answer.

James chuckled.

"Yes, darling, just like me," he said, his voice low and sultry. "We both have a taste for violence and destruction."

He stood up and walked over to me, looking down at me with a dark smile. I felt intimidated by his proximity, but I didn't move. I kept my eyes firmly on his, trying not to show my nervousness.

“I had it all once. Fortune, fame. But nothing satisfied.” He placed his hand on the back of my chair. “But I found a way to stimulate. It's rather an odd one, but… exhilarating. Murder.”

I could smell the whiskey and cigar smoke on his breath. I felt trapped, yet his words sounded intriguing.

“How many people have you killed?” I asked.

“More than you would believe, darling.” James chuckled, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. “I began my career in early 20’s-”

“How is that possible?” I interrupted him.

“Well, dear, technically I am not alive. A ghost, if you prefer.”

I frowned.

“I was forced to end my life in 1930, due to problems with the police and since that day I am a spirit of this fine establishment.”

I was too tired to argue. But I suddenly remembered something.

“Wait… are you saying you are The 10 Commandment killer?”

He smiled. “I’m flattered that you heard about me.”

Of course, it was him. That's why he seemed so odd. I read a few articles about him in high school. James Patrick March. A notorious serial killer, who lived in the Golden Age of American crime. Dubbed 'The 10 Commandment Killer' because he killed his victims on the basis of the Ten Commandments, as a form of destruction of religion. Extremely wealthy and charismatic, a true psychopath.

For some reason, he didn’t seem dangerous. I was alone in the room with the ghost of a serial killer, yet I had never felt safer in my whole life. Sign of a really shitty life.

“What exactly do you want from me?” I asked, my voice low and uncertain.

He chuckled again, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on me.

"If you heard about me, you probably heard that I unfortunately hadn’t finished my… work." He took another drag on his cigar, blowing out a cloud of smoke. The room was filled with the heavy scent of it. “And I’ve spent the whole time after my death, finding a protege.”

“You are telling me that in almost a hundred years you couldn’t find anyone better than me?” I looked up at him skeptically.

“You remind me of myself when I was your age." He smiled. “Very feisty… Returning to your question. Of course, I had my amount of successors, but they are no longer with us. So now the place is vacant.” He chuckled.

“Are you trying to...recruit me?” I asked, feeling a mixture of confusion and curiosity.

James puffed on his cigar, contemplating my question. He looked like a living, breathing enigma, a shade of the past. It was hard to believe that he was a ghost. But it was James Patrick March, no doubt.

“Not exactly. Think of it as a...mentorship.”

I frowned, processing his words.

“Mentorship?” I asked.

“I offer you my unique knowledge. If you are worried about money, I can provide you with anything you might need. Food, clothes, equipment, pocket money.” He circled my chair, hands behind his back. “It would be better if you lived here, in one of the rooms, but if you insist, I can consider you living outside.”

“I am an orphan. I have a small bag of belongings and 60 bucks. Your offer sounds more than just good for me.”

James smiled with a satisfied smile.

“Good.” He walked back to his seat and settled back into it, looking at me intently. “You wouldn't survive for long out there in the cold, cruel world. You should be here, under my... protection.”

I shifted in my seat, still on edge. But his words made sense. I had no one who would even look for me. And staying here sounded like a dream, a much better alternative to the streets or some dirty motel with bed bugs and men ready to have fun with young meat. Also, he already spared me from hiding the body. That’s a great start. He seemed pretty nice.

I relaxed a little, the fear subsiding. I looked at him, trying to appear calm and composed.

"So you want to mentor me…" I said slowly. "Teach me to be a killer like you. Finish your work."

James chuckled, sipping his whiskey.

"That is correct, my dear. I will guide you and show you the way. I have plenty of experiences to share.”

I nodded, feeling a strange excitement bubbling up inside me.

“So, darling, tell me. Men or women?” James asked, boring his gaze into me.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “What?”

He chuckled. “No need to become so tensed up. I meant killings. With whom would you like to start? Or do you have no preferences?”

I frowned, feeling stupid and hoping he didn’t notice my confusion.

“No need to feel flustered, dear. It’s a simple question.”

“Men.”

He smirked. “Why?”

I shrugged, struggling to find words “I don’t know. Feels like they are more… They usually deserve this.”

James leaned back in his chair, a smile playing on his lips.

“You are surprisingly observant, young lady,” he said, swirling his glass of whiskey. “Men tend to underestimate the threat of younger women. It is a common mistake, one that can prove to be quite lethal. Especially when dealing with you."

I met his gaze, not sure if I should be pleased or concerned by his words.

"You make me sound like some sort of dangerous predator," I said.

James chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "Oh, you are, darling. You just haven't realized it yet."

“It was self-defense.” I reminded him in a harsh tone.

“Of course, dear. You had no other choice. I understand.”

James' voice was smooth, soothing even. It was hard to tell if he was being sincere or sarcastic.

"You are a survivor. Don't be ashamed of it." He continued, his eyes never leaving my face. “Be proud.”

"Proud," I repeated, testing the word on my lips.

Suddenly someone knocked on the door.

“Excuse me.” James stood up and went to the door. I also got up to see who could come this late. It was the maid that was supposed to get rid of the body. She looked somewhat nervous, keeping her gaze low, focused on the floor. I could see her hands trembling a little.

"What is it?" He asked, his voice calm and carefree.

“Everything is done, sir.”

“Great. Now tell me, do we have any loner male guests on this floor?” By his tone, it was obvious that he was excited.

“There is a middle-aged gentleman in room 70. Probably waiting for his mistress.”

“Thank you, Ms. Evers, you are free to go.” James chuckled and turned to me. “Time for your first lesson, darling.” He walked to the wooden drawer and opened it. I watched him pull out different objects from the drawer and lay them on the table. There were a few knives, a couple of sets of keys, some tools, a bottle of liquid, and a black leather bag.

“Come here, dear,” James said, gesturing to the table.

I approached him, feeling a sudden mixture of excitement and nervousness. He looked at the tools on the table and then back at me.

“Pick one.”

I looked down at the table, my eyes flickering over the assortment of tools. For a moment, I considered the small knife, its blade glistening in the dim light. But then I spotted something else that caught my attention.

"What about this one?" I asked, picking up a black stiletto.

James chuckled. “Ah, I see you have a taste for the more elegant weapons. Good choice.”

I examined the stiletto, feeling its weight in my hands. It was a beautiful weapon, slender and deadly.

"Now, let me show you something." James picked up the black leather bag and undid the strap, revealing a collection of small glass bottles.

“What’s that?”

"Tools of the trade." He smirked, “This one is chloroform, it works wonders with the weaker types.” March picked up a bottle of clear colorless liquid and placed it in my hand. I studied it carefully.

“And other bottles?”

“This one is a sedative. It has a much swifter effect than chloroform. And this one,” He picked up a small blue bottle, “is a mixture of drugs. A perfect choice for heavier sleep.”

“But be careful with it," He added, “Use too much and you might end up with a very dead man before the fun even starts.”

He looked me up and down “Do you have clean clothes with you? I'm afraid our friend from room 70 won't be happy if he sees you covered in blood sooner than we want him to.”

I shook my head. I only had a few pairs of spare underwear with me. I remembered that my bag was still in that room.

“I need to take my bag-”

“Worry not, my dear, Ms. Evers will bring you everything you might need.” He suddenly stopped and looked me up and down. “How tall are you?”

“About 5’4.”

“That’s just great.”

I stood there confused but didn’t ask any questions. I just stared at him stupidly. Probably women threw themselves at his feet when he was alive.

March walked to the door and shouted. “Ms. Evers!”

In a couple of seconds, the maid appeared in the doorway again. She didn’t look annoyed or tired, it looked like she was very glad to please him.

“Bring a set of clean clothes for our young friend here. And her bag. You will find something suitable in Elizabeth’s old dresses.”

The maid glanced at me, her look seemed contemptuous to me. Then she nodded and quickly vanished behind the door.

I stood there, a little flustered by the whole situation.

“Who is Elizabeth?” I asked James.

“My wife.” He answered, his smile faltered.

“Oh…” I said, not sure if I should say something else. That was unexpected.

“Don’t worry, darling,” James said, his voice back to its usual cheerful tone. “You’ll look wonderful in her things. Much better than the current generation girls.”

Huh.

I said nothing and just waited for the maid to return. The silence wasn’t awkward though, rather soothing.

In a few minutes, the maid returned with my stuff. Quick.

“The young lady's belongings.” She said, her hands trembling slightly as she handed me my bag and a pile of folded clothes.

“Thank you, Ms. Evers,” James said, dismissing her with a nod. The maid gave me one last glance and left.

“You should try them on, darling,” James said, pointing to a half-ajar door, suggesting a bathroom behind it.

I closed the door behind me and inspected my clothes. It was an old-fashioned black dress, mid-length.

I took off my clothes, washed blood stains from my skin, and slipped into the dress. It was a little tight in the hips and was loose on top. His wife had great boobs. Despite the old-fashioned look, it was actually very flattering. It hugged my figure in all the right places, showing off my, well, curves. The black color gave it a touch of elegance. I twirled in front of the mirror feeling a little silly and excited at the same time.

I fixed my makeup with tissues. My eyeliner was smudged, so it looked like smokey eyes. I looked like a young rich socialite, except instead of Gucci shoes I was wearing red Vans.

I smiled at my reflection, feeling the adrenaline rush. I looked damn good in this dress. I was a predator. At least I felt like it.

I opened the bathroom door and stepped out, seeing James still sitting in the armchair. His eyes fixed on me as I walked out.

I saw his gaze wandering all over my body, as though trying to memorize every inch of it. I wasn’t sure if I should feel creeped out or flattered.

“You look marvelous, my dear,” he said, standing up. “Ready for the hunt?”

I nodded, feeling my heart beating faster. I was ready. Ready to prove myself to him, to show that I wasn't some scared little girl who happened to kill someone. I was wild. I was dangerous. I was a hunter too.

I took the stiletto and folded it.

“You’re going to do just fine. Shall we go and make our friend acquaintance?” He chuckled, extending his hand to me. I took it. The touch of his cold dead skin felt strangely reassuring.

We walked down the long corridor in silence. I could still feel the adrenaline rushing through me, making my hands tremble slightly. Maybe I was dreaming? It could be a dream. A nice dream.

“You have complete freedom of action, darling. Now we are just testing your abilities. And don’t even think about feeling guilty, good people never stay in Cortez.”

Finishing the sentence, he suddenly disappeared. I looked around, finding myself in front of door number 70. With the stiletto hidden in my palm, I raised my other hand and knocked on the door.

A few moments passed, and then I heard footsteps inside. My heart skipped a beat. I was suddenly very aware of the fact that I was standing outside an unknown man's room in an evening dress.

Seconds later, the door slowly opened, revealing a middle-aged man standing in the doorway. He was tall and quite attractive to my surprise. He looked like a stereotype of an “older guy” from Pinterest.

“How can I help you?” he asked, looking me up and down.

I put on a polite smile and looked up at the man, trying to hide my nerves. “Good evening, sir. I'm terribly sorry to bother you so late in the night, but I seem to be having some trouble. May I come in for a moment?”

The man looked at me for a few moments, his eyes wandering over my figure in the tight dress. I could see his mind working to make a decision. Probably not a typical sight in this hotel.

“Of course,” he finally answered, stepping back to let me in. “Are you alright?”

“Someone was following me, I was so scared…” I said with a trembling voice, entering the room.

The man led me into the room and closed the door behind him.

"That's terrible," he said, sounding sympathetic. "Can I offer you a drink?"

I smiled.

"It would be lovely, thank you."

The man poured us both a glass of whiskey and handed me a drink. I could sense his eyes fixed on me as I took the glass.

“Please sit down,” he said, gesturing to the coach. “Can I know your name, love?”

“Myranda,” I answered taking a sip. I had no idea why I chose this name.

“You alone here, Myranda?” He looked me up and down, his gaze lingering on my exposed legs.

“Yes, unfortunately,” I answered. “My friends ditched me at the last moment.”

“It can be very unsafe in a place like this, especially for a young girl.”

I pretended to look worried at his words.

"Yes, I know. That's why I'm so glad I ran into you," I said, my voice slightly trembling. "I was so terrified."

To my surprise, he looked worried. “I can call you a cab or give you some money. Do you have someone to walk you home?” I was almost taken aback by the genuine concern in his voice. It wasn't what I expected. I shook my head.

“No, it's fine,” I answered, giving him a small smile. “I just need a place to rest for a bit. You know... to calm my nerves. Thank you.”

“Of course, you can stay here for as long as you need.”

"You're being so kind to me." I smiled gratefully, taking another sip of whiskey. It was burning my throat, but I kept a straight face.

“My daughter is about your age, I know it can be harsh to be a young girl, love.”

His words brought back memories of my stepfather. I hoped he was burning in hell.

"Your daughter is lucky to have you," I said, my voice a bit more emotional this time. God, how should I kill him? He is just a good man.

He looked a bit surprised to hear the suddenly emotional tone in my voice.

"Oh, thank you," he answered, a look of sadness passing across his face momentarily. "We don’t see each other too often now."

He smiled sadly, taking another sip of his drink. "How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?"

“I’m 18.”

He raised an eyebrow, surprise in his eyes.

"Only 18? That's even more reason for you to be careful, love."

He got up from his chair and walked over to the minibar, refilling his glass.

I can’t kill him. I can’t kill him. I can’t kill him.

I bit my lip, watching as he topped up his drink. He was probably a good person, a decent man. That thought was driving me crazy.

I could just leave, walk out of the room, and pretend none of this ever happened. James would probably be mad. I couldn’t kill him, not now, not after he had been so nice to me.

“Can I ask you something?” I asked quietly, my voice a little shaky.

He looked up at me, his eyes meeting mine for a moment before he took a seat next to me on the coach.

“Of course, love. You can ask me anything.”

I took a deep breath, trying to sound as natural as possible.

“I don't mean to be rude, but... why are you here alone? You don't have a wife or something?”

His expression darkened slightly, a sad smile appearing on his face.

“Ah, my wife…” he said quietly, taking a sip of his drink. “We've been divorced for quite some time now. It wasn't a good marriage, to be honest.”

He looked at me and smiled again, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"You know how it is, love. People change, they grow apart. Though I miss having someone to love me."

I nodded.

“Can I use the bathroom?”

“Of course.”

He pointed to a door on the other end of the room.

I smiled, standing up and walking towards the bathroom. As soon as I closed the door behind me, I leaned against the cold surface, taking a deep breath.

How the hell was I going to do this?

I glanced around the bathroom, my eyes scanning the small space. My gaze landed on the mirror above the sink. I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection - a young girl pretending to be a femme fatale, wearing a ridiculous black dress and holding a stiletto. Maybe I was in a coma? Maybe I was dead? I hoped so.

I felt dizzy. I turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on my face, trying to clear my head. But the reality of the situation was still there, mocking me cruelly.

"I can't do this," I whispered to my reflection. "I'll go insane." I already was.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heartbeat. I looked at my reflection again, the cold water dripping down my face. It was my own face staring back at me, but it felt like I was looking at a stranger.

I will walk out and pretend it never happened. I took one last glance at the cold stiletto in my hand, then quickly hid it in the tight sleeve of the dress. I felt nauseous for no reason. My legs felt bubbly. I took another deep breath before walking out of the bathroom, forcing a smile on my face.

As I walked out the room was empty. I froze for a moment, looking around the room. The man was nowhere to be seen.

Before I managed to turn around something grabbed me from behind. I let out a gasp, startled by the sudden movement. A hand covered my mouth, muffling any sound I was about to make. A strong arm wrapped around my waist, holding me firmly in place.

“Be quiet, love.”

The man's voice was a quiet hiss in my ear, his breath hot against my neck. I could feel his body pressed against mine, trapping me completely. What the fuck?

I tried to struggle, but it was useless. Alcohol made me weak, or maybe he mixed something in my drink. Anyway, he was much bigger and stronger than me. I let out a muffled scream against his hand, which was still covering my mouth.

“You better stop fighting or I will have to hurt you,”

I whined. Stupid stupid stupid. I never hated myself more in my life. I started crying.

He pushed me roughly. My face pressed into the bed. I felt his weight on my back.

“Please,” I begged.

“Shut up. You think you can walk to the man during the night dressed like the slut and drink here with no consequences?”

I managed to pull out the knife out of my sleeve, but he was faster, grabbing my hand, and making me drop the weapon.

“What a bitch you are.”

He unzipped my dress. I regretted that I pulled out the knife in front of him, I should have stuck it into my throat. He wouldn't have time to stop me. That way, at least I wouldn’t have to suffer. I shut my eyes.

In a second I heard the sound of flesh being pierced. I felt something hot and wet on my back. Blood. The grip on my body loosened and I immediately turned around.

James was standing there with a dagger in his hands. The man was lying dead on the floor. I felt so relieved that I couldn’t even say a word.

“You alright, darling?”

I nodded, my body trembling. He helped me to get up.

“It’s okay. You did quite well for the first time, don’t worry, you are safe now.”

My legs seemed to refuse to hold my weight, my knees buckled and I almost fell. James’ hand wrapped around my waist, supporting me.

"He seemed nice," I whispered.

“Well, don’t let fool yourself next time. Won’t you?”

I shook my head.

“What now?” I mumbled, my voice still shaking. I guess I was in shock.

I leaned against him, my head resting on his chest.

“You should rest.”

I nodded. I felt like I might pass out at any moment.

“Okay," I whispered. “I guess I failed the first task.”

James chuckled softly, his hand caressing my head.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, dear, everyone can feel hesitation," he said gently. "You did well, considering the circumstances. You'll get another chance. There are plenty of men here."

He walked me out of the room. I followed him without a word, still clinging to him for support. The corridor outside the room was quiet, the only sound was the hum of the air conditioning.

“Just remember to never drink anything from others, okay?”

“Mhm,” I mumbled as we walked into another guest room. It wasn't as luxurious as his room, but I would be grateful even for a storeroom.

“You can stay here. I promise it’s safe. Ms. Evers will bring you anything you might need.”

I nodded, still feeling quite shaken. I sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to steady my breathing.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, darling,” he replied, taking a seat next to me on the bed.

“You watched me in his room...” I began, my voice quiet and a little shaky. “Why didn’t you step in sooner? You could have saved me from the beginning.”

"Well, I wanted you to have a chance to save yourself. You had chances, darling. Just remember this: never let your guard down. Always be prepared, even when you're surrounded by comfort. It's a harsh world, but you should be harsher."

I nodded slowly, understanding his words.

"I won't make the same mistake again," I said remembering the eyes of the dead man.

My mind was slowly drifting away from me. I laid on my back. Everything was spinning. He planted a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“Sleep well.” The last thing I heard before falling into the darkness.

I hope you enjoyed! Have a nice day/night <3

A/N: I am thinking about making this a series, but I dunno yet.

tags: @jazz-berry , @madmagicalheathen , @dustypastelrose

let me know if you want to be tagged in the next works!!

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