#soon I swear I’ll draw you soon
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dollscircus · 1 year ago
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Me on my way to sexualise the shit outta listener oc’s.
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stellarmoth01 · 13 days ago
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Quiet dump!! I’m obsessed with him!! Thank you pristine cut!!!
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I did draw all of the voices, but some of them I didn’t like so much, so I’ll probably redo them eventually, but these are my favorites for now!
Stupid bird under the cut
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stationed-radio · 8 months ago
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right now, you’re feeling helpless
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mossy-paws · 5 months ago
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I am obligated to ask anyone with phighting requests open to draw voidstar :3
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Psycho ass dog….
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muckyschmuck · 8 months ago
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sona art as filler My Bad
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paintedkinzy-88 · 1 year ago
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You inspired me to draw thiS
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Who it is or what it is idk but I based it's design a bit on the kirin, although Kirin traditionally look like a mix between a dragon and a horse and have a beard
YESSSS I LOVE KIRINS. Omg what a majestic fella??? So heckin sweet and fluffy I wanna pat its head.
。:゚(。ノω\。)゚・。
You and another asker sent a lot of doodles, but my phone hates me when it comes to submissions!!! I do see them and adore them all and I WILL respond, I just have to be on desktop sobbingggg ;-;
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ihavesomejays · 5 months ago
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NO WORDS JUST KEEBS FEEDING THE RATURINE NATION ONCE AGAIN SIDKJEBEHAVAHWEHEBRBDBN
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yanderenightmare · 12 days ago
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♡ TW: noncon, gangbang, elf-reader, orc captors, racism between orcs and elves, captive reader, enslavement, piss drinking, mindbreak, mentioned toe-sucking and rimming, navigating cultural differences
♡ FEM reader
♡ P1: THE PILLORY
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The orc bandits sold your fellow elves off like slaves, but the commander ended up saving you for himself.
You’d been out of it throughout the ordeal. Already with the feeling of being numb, dumb, and tingly from the top of your crown down to the tips of your toes, you’d soon been overcome with fever as if taken by sickness—or withdrawal. Kept warm in the lap of your captor, you could barely keep your eyes open and must have passed out again—all to the sound of your troop's despair as they were bid on individually and dragged off by different buyers, all adorned collars and chains.
When you woke up again, whatever had you so enthralled and pliant was gone, leaving you feeling much like those times you’d woken from drinking more than your limit—along with a sore ache spanning your entire body, leaving you bedridden.  
Lying there, on a massive fur pelt in a fire-heated tent with a pair of shackles upon your ankles, you decide against your former poor judgment of making demands—this time, staying still and deadly silent, causing no fuss and voicing no complaint in petrified fear of the heavyweight resting at your back, breathing soundly like a beast in hibernation.
You still don’t understand what happened—still don’t understand what got into you—why did you act that way? It was as if you’d completely lost your mind—hijacked by something unholy and depraved—something vile. You’d been possessed—you must have been! To be bred by those monsters, swallow their semen—drink their piss. Thinking about it, the shock of it all cancels out the disgust. How could you have done all that? Sure, you were forced, but you could swear… somewhere halfway through, you started to enjoy it.
“Why so quiet, elf-pet?”
He must have felt the shift in your breathing. Beasts of war sleep with one eye open, after all. Still, you don’t answer—you don’t move a muscle. Stiff and lifeless, you remain, even as his hand—the one dwarfing your hip—slides south.
"Afraid to wake me?"
You just swallow thickly with a whimper as his thick orc finger, weathered by labor and battle, pets your naked sex, rubbing your clit before splitting the lips and playing with the poorly treated hole beneath it.
“Where’d all that fight go, hm?” he rumbles at your stillness, amused by it as he prods your entrance and pulls your bottom against his bulge. “Don’t tell me I fucked it all gone…” 
All you do is quake and tremor, even as his digit breaks through and starts prepping you—slipping in and out slowly, drawing slick as if your cunt was already trained to do so.
His pleased hum rumbles at your back, wreaking your bones—making you feel fickle like a sprout.
“Elves make such good pets once you tame them,” he states, chuckling. “You love cock and cum so much it makes you dumb—a single taste of it and even the priggish of elves like you turn into filthy little whores hungry for more.” 
You feel him fatten behind you—clenching your thighs as it swells up against your rear. 
His arm, the one beneath your head you’d been resting on like a pillow, coils around your neck and pulls you back snugly against him. 
“Don’t worry, elf-pet—” he grins, teeth by your ear in heated words, “I’ll keep feeding you good and full.”
And that's how it goes. Anytime you sober up, he fucks you silly—well and truly silly—silly in the way it makes you indiscriminately slurp his cum off the ground and suck his toes and lick his ass and squeal with joy as he swarms your womb with piss, “Ah feels so nice and warm inside—I love being master’s piss-bucket! Thank you!”
It’s been that way for months now.
He’s taken to calling you Putty because of how dumb and malleable you’ve become, eager to do anything he says, just to please. It disgusted you in the beginning, but you’ve since learned to accept the weakness of your nature—if only for the sake of survival and your own sanity. 
There’s no point in beating yourself up about it—not in this godforsaken part of the world where everyone seems out to do it for you.
You’d known orcs were soulless creatures, but truly, nothing could have prepared you for their level of depravity. If you could, you’d stay hidden inside the tent and never expose yourself to the horrors outside—already sated with those you have to endure within its thin drapes. But unfortunately, your master enjoys bringing you with him wherever he goes. 
Many orcs do, you’ve come to understand. They like parading their slaves, mostly fae-folk like you, around—all dressed skimpily, all with collars—nymphs and fairies often with their wings clipped and elves with their heads shaved in shame. 
Today, you’re out walking the market—you, with your leash on, and him, with his fist tugging it close behind him. 
He’s looking at weapons and armor for the most part and the odd toy or article for you. He likes keeping you pretty, in jewelry and sheer silks that let everyone admire what he has warming his bed. 
Since becoming his slave, he’s taken you to get plenty of piercings and markings. You can’t read their scripture, but he’s told you what he’s marked on your pretty skin several times. His name, of which you’re not allowed to speak, paired with his title as your direct master, as well as his guild’s seal, stating their ownership of you—all in three intricate patterns down your right arm. So, even if you ever do get home, you’ll never be able to wash him off. Another train of patterns on your left arm shows your status as a slave and your worth if anyone but your master were to damage or kill you accidentally.
For all their cruelty—you’re surprised by their level of organization. Though you don’t agree with it, you can at least admit that what they have is some variation of civilization—as supremacist as it is. But then again, elves are much the same—always thinking themselves better than everything, even other groups of fae.
It’s funny, but in a way, you’re almost convinced this is divine justice—the gods punishing you for your false sense of superiority by forcing you to live your life in suffering as an orc’s slave. 
It’s a trial—your last chance at redemption before death. Fulfill it, and heaven will be waiting for you with open arms. Yes, that must be it. 
The crowd becomes thicker near the end of the market street. It seems there’s an ongoing roadside show that many are keen on watching. You hear the jeers and hollers, the oos and ahs, and coming out empty-handed from the market trip, it seems the commotion is enough to pique your master’s interest enough to make him battle his way through to the front with you in toe just behind him—paying no mind to how members of the crowd paw at you. 
One is even so brazen to spit on your chest. But it comes as no shock—nor does your master’s indifference. In orc culture, all orcs are masters and can do what they want to any and all slaves with respect to their direct master. In fact, it’s not uncommon to see masters chain their slaves up like mutts in the street—free for all to have a go.
Actually, you can bet that’s what gathered this flock.
And sure enough, you’re spot on. 
Three fellow fae are on display up on the stage, naked and drenched in cum and sweat and other fluids—all made fully dumb by it.
You’ve theorized why over the months of being subjected to it and could only come up with one sound theory to explain it. Orc fluids must contain strong aphrodisiac properties, maybe even other substances that make their victims so agreeable—a type of natural incentive, possibly to make breeding more plausible and easy for a race so ugly. 
Yes, that must be it. It’s the only thing that could make any sense of the heart-eyes and love-cries you witness on all your otherwise dignified fellow fae.
One of them is folded between two orcs, desperately sucking on one of their tongues with her eyes closed in bliss, taking both their cocks in both her holes. It’s hard feeling sorry for her when she looks so happy, but you know the situation yourself—it’s like your mind’s been replaced by a fluffy cloud, and all you can think to wish for is to be taken higher.
Another girl is on her knees, ass up and head down—with a heavy foot placed on top of her cheek, squishing her pretty face against the wooden stage—tongue out and eyes crossed as he fucks her sloppy cunt with his whole entire fist. The poor girl is so mindbroken she just giggles with a smile, thighs shivering in delight as she squirts out a puddle beneath her.
The last girl is placed on her back on a beam—ankles suspended in the air, tied tightly to two poles—arms tied together under the bench. She’s also got two of them having their fun with her—one in each end in a spitroast. 
You’ve been in her position once—shared like a piece of meat—stuffed overfull with no freedom to spare. You wonder if she’d spoken out of place, too.
The orc by her head tugs his cock in his fist, standing over her head, letting her lick the sweat off his balls before dropping his length on her chest, bunching her tits and fucking through them with a groan, letting his balls swing and drag over her pretty face. But it’s not long before he steps back and puts his shaft to her lips, holding her throat in a light grip as she sweetly teases his dickhole with the tip of her tongue. When he gives her a firmer squeeze, she obediently widens her mouth, gaping to receive the head.
The girl holds it in her mouth like you do for your master, trying your best to suck but only ever managing to drool around it like a roasted pig with an apple between its teeth. Oh, but then something impossible happens.
You swear it’s like watching a circus act—you look on in horror and awe—unable to grasp it as more of the orc’s meaty member disappears down the girl’s swallow—one girthy inch at a time. You watch her throat swell, eyes wide in disbelief as her pipe blows out to accommodate the size, letting it sink inside all the way through down to the hilt.
The audience whistle and shout at her performance—all impressed as the two orcs fuck her on time with each other—out, then all the way in. And honestly, you’re one of them. Blinking at the display, you can barely trust your eyes—the two cocks must be kissing each other's tips inside her.
“What good whores,” your master mumbles at your side, swinging you against his chest with a grip on your jaw, making you face the scene. 
“You see that, Putty,” he gruffs and points at the one you’d already been watching, wide-eyed and drop-jawed. “One day soon, you’re gonna be just like that.”
You dont know why, but watching the filthy scene makes your gut gurgle. How can you be hungry at a time like this?
“A perfect throat-sleeve for me. So deep, I can finally touch your guts from both ends and fill your belly just how you like.”
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♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Shigaraki, Enji, AFO ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Toji, Kenjaku ♡ HxH – Uvogin
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
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fushitoru · 4 months ago
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chapter 1: the debutante a bridgerton!au
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pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader
summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, heir to a dukedom mr. satoru gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?
warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly
chapter summary ⸺ you begin to get ready for your presentation for your debut this season, and satoru steels himself to find a wife. you don't get the reception you'd wanted from some, and satoru will soon curse himself for letting his tongue loose (6.3k)
a/n tired of keeping this in the vault lol so I’ll just post it even if my perfectionist tendencies are screaming at me. thank you so much to @/sinn-clair for beta reading and lexi (@/ayyy-pee) for helping me brainstorm 💗
next. the aftermath
general masterlist | series masterlist
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Dearest reader,
Another season comes as the ton descends to London yet again from the countryside. Young ladies and their mamas flock to the modiste in an effort to fluff their feathers to find a match.
The Itadoris are by far one of the most prolific families in the upper echelons of society. The sight of all the children at once⸺Miss Itadori, Lord Choso Itadori, and Mister Yuji Itadori⸺is enough to catch the attention of mamas and young suitors alike. Miss Itadori, making her debut this season, has much to be desired. The debutante is a meek and demure girl, but with many talents indeed. The oldest, Lord Itadori, has a quiet countenance that has ladies and mamas on their toes, counting the days until he finally joins the marriage market. Mister Yuji Itadori is quite the opposite; his physical prowess on horseback riding has had quite a few ladies swooning after.
Furthermore, the heir to the Duke of Gojo is a most interesting character.  Although he has not deigned to find a wife during any season yet, This Author has heard whispers that he will be looking for a bride during this one.  
Lady Mei Mei can certainly be expected to be on the prowl, waiting to sink her teeth into the wealthiest….
⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS
“Seriously?” Choso scrunched his nose in displeasure. “Why would ladies want someone who’s quiet? I use it to convey my displeasure, not to be charming.”
On the other hand, the other brother relaxed on the opposite couch, proud. “I knew I looked good on horseback,” Yuji remarked smugly. “You and my dear sister are clearly jealous of how appealing my muscles look while I’m grabbing the reins.”
“Those ladies clearly hadn’t seen you drop yourself in dung when you were younger. Or the face you make when you are so oddly concentrated. As if you just stepped into a chamber pot.”
Before Yuji could come up with a snide remark to his older brother, the two heard an incessant pacing leading up to the doors of the drawing room they sat in. The door slammed opened to reveal their mother⸺Lady Itadori⸺with a hand to her face in clear distress.
Choso and Yuji exchanged glances before Choso calmly set down the single-page newspaper he was reading. “What is the matter, mother?”
Lady Itadori moaned and sat down on a chair raggedly. “Your sister is the matter. I fear the queen will have reviewed every person in London before your sister leaves her room.”
Before Choso could get a word in, Yuji suddenly stood up. “This is a serious matter, mother. After all, she should be punctual to her debut. I will go fetch her.”
“Wait, Yuji!” Choso and Lady Itadori followed Yuji to the grand staircase of the Itadori manor. Hurriedly, they reached the foot of the stairs to see Yuji tilting his head back to take a deep breath.
“SISTER!” Yuji had his palms up to his face, as if to amplify his already booming scream. “YOU! MUST! MAKE! HASTE!” After the quite of bit noise he'd made, he cleared his throat, looking to the side to see his dumbfounded mother and brother, and shrugged. “Well, someone’s got to the job.”
Then, the brothers and their mother look up to see a peek of white and a “Miss, be careful with the hem!” You, at the top of the staircase, grab the front of your ivory dress, with your maids helping you with the train, as you start stepping down the staircase with an irritated frown. “Must you always be such a nuisance, brother?” Traversing down the stairs until your family members were visible, all you saw were dumbfounded and tense expressions. After enduring hours of painting your face and dealing with your maid Nobara’s fussing over your coiffure, you wished for a more fond reaction. Annoyed, you stomped your way past them to the exit, where the carriage was waiting for you four.
“Dear!” your mother exclaimed, rushing to your side and taking your hand as you reached the door. Her eyes, filled with concern, met yours as she nervously asked, “How are you feeling? I know this is a momentous day for you, but remember, you’ve always excelled in your lessons. It’s only natural that you’ll win the queen’s approval, dear.”
“Yes, Mother, of course,” you sighed. “It is just such a hectic day.”
“But you shall dazzle them.” Choso comes behind you, patting your back gently in his reassuring, elderly brother ways. With a proud smile, he says, “The gentlemen are not prepared for your entrance this season.” 
“Indeed! They will be none the wiser to your snark, sister.” You see Yuji coming up on your other side, offering his elbow. You tentatively take it, eyeing him sourly as he continues, “I am simply elated that Mama’s attention will be on you, rather me.”
You reach to smack him on the head, eliciting an "Ow!" from Yuji just as your mother approaches next to him, frowning. "Of course, Yuji. But it won’t be long before I have to chase after you for your tutor’s complaints about your lack of proficiency⸺"
Yuji interjects hastily. "Well! Would you look at the time? The Queen is waiting!" 
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"I'm surprised the gossip pamphlet didn't mention how much of a rake you are," Lord Geto mused, taking a sip of brandy. At his right, Duke Nanami was stoic as always, focusing on the tastes the gin was bringing to his mouth rather than  the two older men beside him.
"I'm severely offended you would even imply such a thing," Mister Satoru Gojo put a hand on his chest, feigning offense. Rather than a gin in his hand, Satoru preferred drinking water lest his mouth spilled something even more notorious than his signature calculative icy blue eyes.
He continued. "Honestly, I don't understand this whole Whistledown business. Some might even say the ton holds her words more in regards than the Holy Bible!"
"You're diverting the matter at hand, Gojo," Nanami took his tired eyes off of his drink to look at Satoru. "As the heir and first son, have your parents not urged you to cease your foolishness? There is a limit to the rakish behavior one can exhibit in your position.”
"Yes," Satoru sighed, "They have. That's precisely why I'm looking for a bride."
There was a silence in which Satoru looked up from his glass to see Kento and Suguru’s mouths agape. "What?"
Suguru leaned closer to Satoru, as if to inspect his countenance unsure if he was jesting or not. "So, is it actually true? You're going to get tied down?"
Nanami wrinkled his nose in disapproval. "Must you say it like that? Marriage isn't imprisonment, you know."
Gojo sighed. "Nanami, Nanami. It's clear that one year that separates us in age has also left a gap in experience." Nanami felt a vein pop as Satoru irritatedly continued in his know-it-all voice. "Marriage is an end. The dead end, in fact. It is when you are abroad in Paris, basking in all the fine entertainment and wooing ladies until you realize you are out of funds. Out of money. Marriage is coming home not to go out and drink, but to a wife that has endless needs of you and children that will have frustrating phases of life. An end to pleasure and an end of all jest."
Kento and Suguru exchanged a glance before Suguru asked, "So why are you looking for a wife?"
Satoru looked dejectedly at them, crossing his arms. "My parents insisted. Said they would freeze my funds and kick me out if I didn't get serious about my future." He continued on his desperate rambling, leaning back in his chair. "I don't understand. Must I have a wife to "get serious" in life? I’m serious about all the fucking mergers and dubious finances my father invests in! Look how well I managed his bets!"
"You know, Satoru, your outlook on marriage is awfully pessimistic," Suguru put down his glass to lean back as well, crossing his arms in seriousness. "Don't you wish for a love match?"
"That sounds ridiculous. Love matches are just a passing fancy young ladies have when reading their ridiculous romance novels."
"Well, of course you think that." Kento deadpanned. "No respectable lady in their right mind would fall for you and your attitude."
"Nanami, you wound me."
Suguru glanced at Satoru with concern. "My dear friend, you are making this harder for yourself than it ought to be."
Satoru groaned. "I came here for jest, not to receive words of so-called wisdom. I assure you both, all is well." He looked at both of his friends. "I do not need to be assured. I simply am looking for a woman fine enough to be my wife to appease my parents and their concerns of continuing on the line and handling the dukedom but for a woman so reserved that she'd respect my wishes and isn't so miserable. Or needy." Satoru shrugged. "I would believe these to be respectable requirements for a wife."
Suguru looked at him with mild displeasure. "It sounds like you are looking for a horse to ride, not a woman you would spend the rest of your life with."
Standing up, Satoru moved behind Kento and Suguru to give them a hearty slap on the back. "Trust me, my dear, dear friends. I will find what I am looking for and drink myself silly for the rest of my life!"
"You don't drink." Kento sighed.
"Never mind, you! Sir, more drinks!" Satoru grinned. "Here's to the bachelor life!"
The three men raised their glasses for the toast. Yet, only one of them contained thin water.
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You restlessly arranged the feathers in your coiffure and adjusted the fabric essentially squeezing the breath out of your lungs to accentuate your bust. The palace waiting room was stuffy as ever as debutantes and their mamas fluttered across the room in an effort to catch the smallest of flaws on their person.
Before the Queen did, that is.
"Your feathers are fine, dear. Take deep breaths for me." Your mother raised her hands, prompting you to take a breath in and out as her hands lowered.
You gave her your practiced smile and curtsy to which your mother laid a hand on the small of your back in both approval and reassurance. With the other, she grabbed your own and rubbed comforting circles in the junction of your index finger and your thumb. "You have always excelled in your lessons, my dear. I could not be prouder of the woman you are becoming." She sniffed, and you smiled in appreciation. "The Queen will love you, I am sure of it."
You laughed. "Mama, that is what all these ladies think."
“But none of these ladies have poured in the determination you have, my dear.” Your mother holds your head gently by the cheeks. “Your character and proficiency⸺I am sure the Queen will see the promising young lady that I am proud to call my daughter.”
You felt a lump in your throat. While you appreciated your mother’s words, you could not help but think of the significance of this day. You almost felt dizzy thinking about messing up in front of the Queen; if you didn't find a suitable match as a result, what would become of you? 
Suddenly, there was some fanfare from the main room. "Now, presenting Miss Itadori and the Right Honourable Lady Itadori." Your heart jumped out of your throat as you heard the call for you and your mother to walk up. 
"Let's go, my dear." With a fond kiss to your temple, your mother led you by the hand to the center of the tall and ornate doors that opened to reveal the Queen and her audience. You couldn't help but notice that your mother's hand held a reassuring, yet tight vice. 
When the doors opened, your vision blurred. Your heartbeat got faster, and all you could register was the stares. What felt like a million pairs of eyes blinking upon you, scanning your coiffure, garments, and carefully painted face. While the gossiping widows and mamas whispered amongst themselves, some gentlemen scanned you up and down in clear assessment of your constitution. A distinct smell of tobacco and vanilla wafted through the air, and you took an imperceptible breath in as you steeled yourself before putting your practiced, signature smile. 
A memory from your childhood flashed before you.
"She is excelling in her studies," your tutor had said, discussing your performance with your mother in the drawing room. You, sitting beside them, had fidgeted nervously with your small hands clasped in your lap, sitting as straight as you could manage.
"What must she do to improve?" your mother inquired, her eyes sharp with concern.
"Madame," your tutor had said, turning his gaze towards you with a knowing look. "Your daughter is quite nearly flawless. She is of my most exceptional students; her obedience and composure are unparalleled, even at such a tender age." He then fixed his eyes back on your mother with an authoritative intensity. "But there is one element that will truly distinguish her as a diamond."
Your mother had leaned forward, abandoning her tea in anticipation. "What is it?"
"Her smile."
As you flash your smile to the room, you could feel the people in the room going silent. Your smile was what helped you focus and keep your eyes on the prize: impressing the queen. Smiling in the most innocent and demure way you could possibly muster, you straighten your posture as you advance towards the queen, your eyes serene and your expression a masterful display of delicate charm.
The stares of the ton were on your back, but all you focused on was the harmony of your countenance. Chin up, you reminded yourself. Everyone in this room is my prey, and I am the predator. 
When you and your mother reached the foot of the Queen's throne, you dipped into the deepest curtsy you had to offer, keeping your eyes on the ground as you minimized your smile to a more polite and respectful one. You stayed there for as long as the Queen was silent.
Then, a rustling of fabric as the room silently gasped. The Queen was stepping towards you, and you felt a gloved hand take your chin. Not daring to breathe or rise from your genuflection by even an inch, you forced your body to stay in position as your face was raised to look at the Queen’s.
Her booming, yet regal, voice echoed throughout the room. “You, my dear. Perfect.” She then addressed the room. “I have found my diamond!”
The declaration sent a wave of murmurs through the gathered crowd. You could feel hundreds of eyes on you as you slowly rose from your curtsy, your heart pounding in your chest. Your eyes instinctively sought your mother’s, who looked at you with pride and a hint of warning.
“Keep smiling, my dear,” she whispers into your ear. “They are staring now, more than ever.”
Your mother was right, upon reflection. There were eyes observing you far more diligently than they had before. In particular, a pair of icy and brilliant blue ones. 
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“Choso, not today.” Your mother sighed. “I am not ignorant of your overprotective tendencies, especially towards your younger sister and brother.”
Choso was fully frowning in displeasure, arms crossed as he observed your mother, Yuji, and yourself board the carriage. “Mother. Sister is the diamond of the season. The men will be after her like hungry vultures!”
“Well, vultures have a tendency to eat freshly decayed carrion. When you get rid of those dark circles and don’t look like dead meat, you can join us.”
Choso protested further, stopping the doorman from closing the carriage door. “But, Mother⸺”
“Yuji, close the door. Your brother will join us when learns to get sleep and not work on those ledgers overnight.” As per your mother’s instructions, Yuji closes the door on him. As the carriage rolls out of your manor and into the London streets, you blow a mocking kiss to your brother, who is now brewing at the doorstep.
“Phew! Good riddance,” Your mother fanned herself. “I need this night with you, alone. God knows how many suitors will be warded off with that horrid glare of his.”
You laughed softly, leaning back against the plush cushions of the carriage. “I suppose it’s a small price to pay for a bit of peace.”
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You and your mother were wrong; your brother should have been there. 
Upon your arrival, you were followed by stares, whispers, and men. Bachelors appeared in droves, eager to engage in conversation, each drawn by your newly anointed title as the diamond of the season. After paying your respects to the Queen, you found yourself swept into a whirlwind of attention, each dance and conversation a testament to the allure your status had brought.
As you navigated the crowd with practiced grace, Yuji, ever the observant and cheeky sibling, leaned in close to you and murmured, “I must say, you’ve outdone yourself. They’re practically circling like hawks. Do you think we’ll need to hire a guard just to keep them at bay?”
You gave him a wry smile, barely concealing your exasperation. “Oh, Yuji, you’re so dramatic. They’re just eager to make their introductions.”
Yuji snickered and nodded towards a particularly earnest-looking gentleman who seemed to be making a concerted effort to catch your attention. “Well, if this is what the season looks like, I might have to prepare myself for a front-row seat to a parade of besotted suitors. Just don’t let them all think you’re here to catch them; we wouldn’t want them getting the wrong idea.”
Your mother, overhearing Yuji’s jest, gave a light laugh and shook her head. “Oh, Yuji, you and your theatrics. Just make sure you’re ready to fend off any advances that come your way.”
“What?” You’ve never seen Yuji’s smile drop so fast. As if on cue, there were mamas and maidens closer to Yuji’s age that were approaching, as if a pack, and he looked at you in panic. “Are they coming towards us? Sister, you’ve got to⸺”
“Mister Itadori,” It appeared it was too late. A pack of young ladies were right next to you, fluttering their fans and lashes and giggling. “Whistledown has praised you quite well in this last issue.”
Help, Yuji mouthed, but you merely winked in response. The young ladies had effectively formed a barrier around you, offering a temporary reprieve from the throng of eager suitors. Sensing an opportunity, you decided to seize the moment and discreetly made your way towards the punch table.  
The cool, refreshing scent of the punch greeted you as you approached, offering a welcome contrast to the bustling, heated atmosphere of the ballroom. You filled a glass with the fruity, aromatic beverage and took a moment to savor the brief solitude.As soon as you took a deep breath in, savoring your newfound freedom, you felt a presence next to you at the punch table. “Miss Itadori.”
Upon turning, you were met with the infallible smirk of Naoya Zen’in. You had indeed heard⸺and read, in Whistledown⸺that his family adopted nontraditional ways of determining the winner of the family inheritance and leadership. While Lord Zen’in wasn’t guaranteed to be the heir, he definitely was one of the top contenders. You assessed him further, taking in his arrogant demeanor as he reached down to give you a kiss on your hand. Rather wet, you thought in disgust.  
But you hid it well, fluttering your lashes up at him. “Mister Zen’in! I am flattered to be acquainted with you today. How do you find today’s ball?”
“Rather well, of course.” He reached to scoop some punch for himself. “I enjoy meeting all the young ladies and dancing with them, of course. Ever in search of my perfect bride.”
You forced an artificial giggle. “Of course. I’m sure all the ladies that have talked to you have been charmed, as am I.”
He swelled, exactly you expected, as you stroked his ego. “But none of these ladies are as valuable as you, my diamond.” To your displeasure, he took a step closer to you, discreetly tracing his finger from your upper arm to where your dance card resided. “May I have your next dance? I have been perfecting my dance skill to the point all my brothers are envious of my prowess!” He barked out a laugh. “In fact, I beat them in horse riding years ago, and…”  
While Naoya kept talking, you merely fluttered your fan over your face in mock interest. You were really starting to mourn your short-founded freedom, wanting a respite from the self obsessed young man. For some reason, you could smell the same distinctive perfume of expensive tobacco and painfully sweet vanilla you had smelled in your presentation, like a warning. Realizing you were drifting off into space with the heady fragrance, you made sure to tune into his ramblings once more.
For some reason⸺that you were growing to find uncomfortable⸺he still had his hand on your dance card. You felt the previously faint aroma growing stronger by the second. “Of course, I am soon to be the heir of the Zen’in name⸺”
A flamboyant and mischievous laugh cut through the air. “Naoya, you amuse me.” To your alarm, a young man steps to the right of you. From what you can see on the side of his face, his head sports brilliant white hair and his eyes are focused on the bachelor in front of you, who is now displeased and openly glaring at the man beside you.
“Gojo, I⸺”
“Funny that you talk about the Zen’in inheritance, Naoya.” The man⸺Gojo⸺scratched his chin in faux puzzlement while cockily smiling. “Last time I checked, Naobito was discussing handing it over to Megumi over pall-mall!”
Naoya was clearly growing more and more distressed. “Father wouldn’t dare to hand that child with a whore of a mother⸺”
Gojo clicked his tongue, outwardly showing a nonchalant smile, but you could noticeably see his eyes darken. “That’s no way to talk in front of a lady, Naoya, and certainly not of a mother. Besides, Mister Zen’in, didn’t Megumi save your family from the edge of poverty?”
Naoya’s nostrils flared. Clearly at the end of his wit, he did a small bow towards you as he swiftly exited your proximity. You blinked, partially processing the conversation that happened as well as the fact that you were now alone with this Gojo. Turning, you prepared your signature smile, the act you had been presenting for countless of young bachelors today. However, what made you stop in your tracks was his eyes.
Even the pure Englishmen you had met in London didn’t possess eyes like his. They were intense and vividly blue, flashing with judgment and calculation. His face, though strikingly pretty and slightly more feminine than others, seemed carefully constructed to mask his true thoughts. His white lashes contrasted sharply with his hair as he blinked.
And then it hit you. This was the heir of the Gojo dukedom, Satoru Gojo. Known as a capital R Rake for reasons unknown to you (Nobara just insisted he was), you could see elegance and arrogance exuding off of him, yet another noble with an ego as big as his wallet. You recall, then, what Whistledown had wrote about him⸺that he has never shown interest in marriage before today.
It was only after he blinked once more that you realized he was waiting for some response to an introuction you didn't catch. In a panicked flurry, you curtsied and said, “My apologies, Mister Gojo. I fear I haven’t had the pleasure of making your acquaintance. Miss Itadori, pleased to meet you.”
Gojo’s smile widened, his blue eyes twinkling with an almost imperceptible amusement. “A pleasure indeed, Miss Itadori.” He returned your curtsy with an elegant nod, his voice smooth and teasing. “I must say, you handle yourself with admirable grace amidst such a tumultuous crowd, my diamond.”
“Thank you, Mr. Gojo,” you replied, attempting to regain your composure as you took a sip of your punch. “I do try my best to navigate these social minefields.”
He chuckled softly, the sound light and charming. “Indeed. Though it seems you’ve had quite the evening already, judging by your rapid responses to Lord Zen’in’s advances.”
You raised an eyebrow, trying to draw a hint of a smile on your lips. “It appears you’ve been observing closely. Are you always so keenly aware of your surroundings, Mister Gojo?”
“Only when I find the scene particularly entertaining,” he said, his gaze shifting to watch the guests around the ballroom. “And tonight, the spectacle is quite extraordinary. I must admit, you are a refreshing change from the usual parade of predictable manners.”
“Predictable?” you asked, your curiosity somewhat piqued. “Do you find most of the guests here lacking in originality?”
“Perhaps not lacking, but certainly not as intriguing,” he replied with a playful grin. “Take, for instance, Mister Zen’in. A man of considerable ambition, no doubt, but with a flair for the dramatic that grows tiresome rather quickly.”
You nodded in agreement. “Yes, he certainly has a penchant for self-promotion. But then, one could argue that every gentleman here has his own brand of theatrics.”
“True,” Gojo said, tilting his head slightly. “But what I find most fascinating is how you’ve managed to stand out amidst this display of pomp and circumstance. It’s not every day one encounters someone who seems so effortlessly poised, even in the face of such overt competition.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mister Gojo,” you said with a light laugh. “But I assure you, my composure is a carefully cultivated skill, not merely a natural state.”
“Ah, then I must commend your efforts,” Gojo said, his eyes gleaming. “It is a rare talent to maintain such grace under pressure. If I may be so bold, might I request the honor of a dance with you this evening? I promise to provide a diversion from the usual pretenses.”
You hesitated for a moment, weighing the potential benefits of engaging further with this intriguing man against the immediate demands of the evening. Finally, you offered him a meek smile. "Of course. I shall be delighted to dance this waltz with you."
Pleased, he guided you to the center of the ballroom, your hand elegantly placed in his. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of triumph as you noticed Lady Mei Mei’s envious glances and the heated stares from other young ladies.
Gojo positioned his hand on your waist as you both assumed the proper stance for the dance. “So, how are you enjoying your night? I trust you’re finding pleasure amidst the horde of suitors the Queen has so graciously provided.”
You smiled demurely, carefully maneuvering around him. “Well, my lord, I am very grateful to the Queen for her blessing this season.” You took a delicate step, noting Gojo’s amused smile. “However, it is quite tiring to meet so many people. Repeating my preferences for the countryside or the city can become rather exhausting.”
Gojo’s smile widened as he guided you through a graceful turn. “And which do you prefer?”
“I would argue that the city is preferable when I feel lonely,” you said, gliding with him. “Yet the countryside is ideal for moments of solitude and reflection. Naturally, it also serves as a lovely setting for fond memories with a future husband.”
“What do you enjoy doing in nature?”.
“Embroidering or practicing the pianoforte,” you replied, making sure to display a wistful smile. “There is something particularly enchanting about playing the piano with the door open, letting nature's melody blend with the music.”
“Do you have any other talents or skills?” Gojo inquired as you both continued your dance.
“Yes,” you said, “I am fond of reading and immersing myself in literature. I also have a passion for the arts and languages.”
“Which languages do you speak?” he asked, guiding you through a series of intricate steps.
“I am well-versed in the classics⸺Latin and Greek. I’ve also picked up some French and Spanish, when I was yearning to follow my older brother through Europe for years.”
“What about literature? What do you enjoy reading?” Gojo pressed, his eyes never leaving yours.
Your smile grew slightly strained as you felt the conversation veer towards an uncomfortable territory. You felt as if the duke was interviewing you for review of your admission into an academic institution rather than holding conversation. “I enjoy Byron, sir,” you said carefully.
Gojo hummed in approval. “And here I was, thinking all ladies were engrossed in Whistledown.”
“Ah, well,” you feigned a sigh, your smile tight. “Gossip has its charm for a lady, sometimes.”
“For men, too, I must admit,” Gojo said, tilting his head towards his group of friends. “But I must confess, it is rather unpleasant when the gossip circulates that I am a rake.”
That's because they're true, you whore. "I guess it's up to the smarter individuals in society to discern the truth from the slander."
Gojo’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he guided you through the final steps of the dance. “Indeed, it seems wisdom and discernment are valuable traits in navigating the labyrinth of society’s gossip.”
You nodded. “Quite so. It is the discerning few who see beyond the surface and recognize the true character of a person.”
As the music swelled to its concluding notes, Gojo drew you closer, his gaze fixed on you with a calculative expression. “And what is it that you seek to convey through your own character, Miss Itadori? In a world full of pretense, what do you wish to be known for?”
You maintained your practiced smile. "Mister Gojo, in a world where appearances often speak louder than words, I find it best to embody grace and humility. I hope to be seen as a gentle and devoted companion, one who supports and uplifts those around her.”
Gojo’s smile only sharpened, and you couldn’t help but shake the feeling of somehow being calculated, observed, even hunted as he offered,  “A noble aspiration. It is refreshing to encounter someone who values authenticity amidst the artifice.”
As the final strains of the waltz came to an end, Gojo escorted you back to your starting position. He bowed deeply, his eyes never leaving yours. “Thank you for the dance, Miss Itadori. It has been an evening of unexpected delights.”
You curtsied in return, your eyes meeting his with a demure and sincere expression. “The pleasure was mine, my lord. I am honored to have had this opportunity.”
With a final, charming smile, Gojo stepped back, giving you a nod. “Until we meet again, Miss Itadori. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
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After Gojo had taken his leave, you found yourself once again surrounded by a steady stream of suitors eager to engage you in conversation. You indulged a few with polite discourse, your smile unwavering as you navigated the well-trodden paths of societal pleasantries. Despite your best efforts, fatigue began to set in, and you soon reached your limit.
Deciding to take a brief respite, you excused yourself with practiced grace. You made your way discreetly to the veranda, seeking solace and a breath of fresh air away from the relentless din of the ballroom. As you stepped out into the cool night air, the sound of the revelry faded to a distant murmur, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves and the faint scent of blooming flowers.
With your mind fresh and clear from the suffocating revelry, you couldn't help but reflect back on the night. With the Queen deeming you as the diamond of the season, you knew your mother and Choso had been appeased. Of course, tomorrow was going to be a long morning; judging by the sheer number of young men approaching you today, you knew many of them would be visiting your drawing room to converse with you and gain the approval of your brother.
There were some suitors that stood out. Lord Ino seemed to take genuine interest in what you had to say, but Mister Fushiguro had both interest and quiet respect that you couldn't help but think was ideal for a marriage. After all, you just wanted a peaceful life after securing yourself and your family. While brief, you had conversed a bit with both Duke Nanami and Lord Geto, but it had been interrupted by some of their friends inviting them onto the terrace. You were sure Naoya wouldn't bother showing his face tomorrow.
That left him. Blue eyes. You couldn't help but think you had heard about him somewhere. 
Gojo.
Even though you couldn't recall much other than his rakish tendencies, the future title of Duke was certainly attractive and respectable. He wasn't so bad; with dashing looks, you couldn't help but simply think that a pretty face wouldn't be bad to look at for all those years. You snickered to yourself at your sheer display of vanity in your thoughts.
If you had to think of the most vain reasons to justify your suitors, Mister Gojo would definitely top your list of the most handsome of men. With a sturdy and healthy build, you could notice the years of dedication he must put in to maintain his athleticism. Perhaps archery, you thought. Those shoulders were definitely wide for days. Or maybe horse riding. He definitely seemed to fill in his pants with his thighs.
However, it was impossible to ignore his mischievous nature. You couldn't imagine a man such as the future Duke showing any outward display of affection, and all your interactions⸺from him outwitting Naoya, to interviewing you under the pretense of dancing⸺have always had him either besting or calculating the other converser. He definitely had a superiority complex, you rolled your eyes. Clearly, your display of the simple and stupid maiden pleased him. You wondered if he treated all the other ladies with the same level of disrespect and evaluation.
Deciding you were too far into the gardens, you turned the opposite direction to join the revelry once more in fear of attracting strange rumors about your presence in the gardens late at night. As soon as you got closer and closer to the ballroom, you heard voices.
"Ah, but there is the diamond, of course." 
You perked up, interested in knowing who was talking about you. The voices seemed to be coming from the entrance between the terrace and the ballroom. "Of course, I understand why the Queen has deemed her so." Crouching, you aimed to discreetly hide behind a large trimmed bush in such a manner that if someone were to be passing by, you wouldn’t appear suspicious. 
Another voice chimed in. “She is beautiful. Not in the salacious way Lady Mei Mei is, but in a more authentic and innocent way.” 
“I fear the ladies nowadays are salacious⸺hungry for suitors with money and power⸺so it only makes sense that the ladies appear that way. But the diamond; she is different.”
A slap, as if someone was affectionately patted on the back for attention. “Yes, yes. But let the man of the night give us his assessment. After all, he is the one who is here tonight with us, finding a wife, when no one who had ever talked to him would ever think he would be doing such a thing.”
“Well, of course. It wouldn’t take a fool to know that marriage is basically imprisonment.” You could discern the speaker’s wry tone. “The goal here is to appease my parents, and my ticket to that is the diamond.”
“Well, get on with it,” a voice pressed, rather impatiently. “What’s your assessment?”
“A bit simpleminded.” Some feeling struck your lungs, as you recognized that it was Gojo’s voice that was speaking. You swallowed, your heart pounding as you waited for more harsh words to torrent upon you. “Has no opinions of substance that should cause conflict. She’s perfectly fine for a wife. I shall begin courting her and will soon propose⸺"
You didn’t hear the rest because you soon found yourself dashing in the opposite direction, towards an alternate entrance to the ballroom. You couldn’t bear to hear any of the more degrading and embarrassing things Gojo had to say about you as you slowed your pace to a fast walk. 
With the main entrance to the ballroom in sight, you thought about the other gentlemen⸺if you could even call them that⸺that must be present, conversing with Gojo. How widespread are these assessments of you? Do all gentlemen think you stupid? However, your thoughts are interrupted when you bump into someone, rather hard.
“Are you alright?”
You look up, putting a hand to your bosom as you try to catch your breath. You see Duke Nanami’s face in close proximity, as he furrows his brow in light worry. You’re clutching your forearms as you are heaving, trying to get oriented. “Yes,” you heave. “Yes, Your Grace.” 
Nanami clearly didn’t accept your assurance as he helped you stand to your full height. “Is there anything wrong?”
“No, no, I assure you; I am quite alri⸺”
“Sister! There you are!” Yuji comes up from behind Nanami, and both of you turn to look at him. “I’ve been looking for you! The punch here is terrible, some of the mamas here are horribly intoxicated. Do you know Mei Mei’s mother just admit⸺” he cuts himself off as he observes Nanami, who’s still touching your arms,  with wide eyes. “Di⸺Did I interrupt something?”
“NO, you didn’t.” You burst out, not wanting yet another man leaving with an unfavorable expression of you tonight. You and Nanami both take a step back to distance yourselves, and he clears his throat.
“Good night, Miss Itadori. Mister Itadori.” He gives you both curt bows as he makes his way past to his carriage.
Yuji blinks. “Oookay. Anyways. Mei Mei’s mother just barfed on top of Naoya as she was buttering him up. I must admit, Mei Mei and Naoya make a formidable match in being intolera⸺”
You could feel yourself filtering Yuji out as you thought about the gentlemen’s gossip from earlier. While you weren’t exactly surprised that Gojo appraised you as a pawn, you couldn’t help but be a little offended that he could talk behind your back. Who’s to predict the other naive ladies that would be subject to his callous and calculative behavior?
 There was only one conclusion to be drawn that you swear to remember for the rest of the season: Gojo was not a man of honor, and you were not going to be one of his victims. 
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next. the aftermath
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eightmakesonebraincell · 1 year ago
Text
ateez as royals who fall for you (maknae line)
read hyung line here
genre: royalty!ateez x fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, a brainrot and smutfest of royal tropes
length: 11.3k
c/w: very nsfw scenes - mdni, explicit language (dirty talk, swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, heavy & mature themes (sex work, murder, assassination, execution, mentions of misogyny)
a/n: as much as writing royals was tricky, it's kind of 🤢 sad 🤢 to see this au end. that being said nobody ask me for a pt 2 pls i need to recover from the trauma LMAOO and as always, huge thank you to the queen of royal au's herself @sorryimananti-romantic for helping me finish the fic and for teaching me how to make moodboards using something that is *not* word doc :')
san
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pov: you're forbidden lovers
“shh,” san hushes you with a teasing curl of his fingers that are buried inside you. “wouldn’t want everyone outside to know what a dirty little slut the princess is, do you?”
his other hand covers your mouth, stifling the breathy moans and desperate whines that escape your lips as you sit in between his legs, naked and pressed back to lean against his chest
there is the sound of water splashing over the edge of the bathtub when san hooks his feet around your inner ankles so that he can spread your legs wider for him
he presses the palm of his hand harshly against your clit and your back arches with a muffled worship of his name
“or maybe you like that,” he teases “you like the idea of people knowing how good i make you feel with my fingers”
san removes his hand from your mouth and lowers it to pinch your nipple, smirking against your neck as you babble incoherently
he coos as he adds yet another finger into you, “imagine that, everyone knows you as the princess who loves being fucked dumb. and by one of her servants, no less” 
all caution is thrown to wind and you drop your head back to lean against his shoulder, mouth lolling open with unrestrained pleads for more, more, faster as he angles his fingers to hit that sweet spot inside of you
“cum, princess” he demands
you grip bruises onto san’s thighs and arms when the pace of his fingers doesn’t relent even after your orgasm has washed over you
his arms tighten around you as his thighs flex to keep you still in his hold
you let out a choked sob from the overstimulation, teetering between pain and pleasure
“give me one more, i know you can do it,” he coaxes
the hand that has been fondling your breasts snakes down to rub your clit
with his fingers knuckle-deep inside of your pussy and his other hand playing relentlessly with your sensitive clit, the scale tips over and your vision blurs as another wave of pleasure hits you, more intense than the first one
“princess?” and then a knock. “are you okay?”
san slowly draws out the remainder of your orgasm with lazy thrusts of his finger into you
you just know he’s enjoying himself when you have to hide the shakiness in your voice to answer back to your maid outside, “everything’s fine. i’ll be done soon”
“soon?” san smirks, lifting you up by the waist to align your folds with his swollen cock. “then we better make this quick”
because you and san do not have the luxury of time, much less the luxury of love
he isn’t just another one of the numerous servants who serve you
he is everything to you despite how taboo it is for a princess and servant to love each other
his insignificance within the palace makes it much easier for him to slip away; for nobody to take notice
but at the same time, his insignificance is the whole reason why you two must be secretive in the first place
you make sure san has safely snuck out of the bathroom before you finally exit the bathtub and stand on unsteady legs
you allow your maids to come in and help you into the elaborate attire you are to wear for the afternoon
your parents have informed you that you are going to have visitors, thus requiring you to look your best
without much time left until the appointed meeting due to your…escapade, you make your way to the great hall, catching a glimpse of san’s dimpled smile from amongst the other body servants and waiting staff in the room
you have only just settled into your seat next to the king and queen when the guard outside the doors announces the arrival of your guests - the monarchs from the neodonian kingdom
schooling your expression to one of neutrality, you watch as they enter
and then you realise it isn’t just the neodonian king and queen who have come to visit
but the prince as well
he is undeniably handsome and pleasing to the eye with his sleekly gelled hair, chiseled features and tall, sturdy build
the young prince catches you looking at him and breaks out into a friendly smile and-
oh
he has dimples too
the king garners everyone’s attention with a clear of his throat, before he welcomes the monarchs
prince jaehyun, you learn his name is
“after much discussion between ourselves and king jeong and queen jeong, we are pleased to announce our desire for closer relations between our kingdoms,” your father starts, booming voice resounding within the hall
you can’t stop yourself from looking over at him as he speaks with purpose, a strange niggling feeling starting to twist your stomach
the tight smile that your mother passes you from your father’s other side does little to settle your nerves
“as such,” the king continues, “we shall look forward to the engagement between my daughter and prince jaehyun”
there is a roaring sound in your ears, as if you have been pushed to stand under a raging waterfall
engagement
the engagement
you
prince jaehyun
the engagement between you and prince jaehyun
it takes everything in your body not to bolt up from your seat
your hands grip the armrests of your seat with a grasp so tight you are certain you will leave a permanent imprint of your agony
instead, you look around frantically for the one person your instincts are screaming for
where is san?
you are afraid to see how much this is going to hurt him
you are desperate to tell him that you had no idea about this
you are aching to press confessions of love and reassurance against his lips
but just like the insignificance of his status, san is nowhere to be seen
over the two years that you and san have been in your secret relationship, he has gained extensive knowledge of which particular tasks allow him a greater chance of seeing you, which corridors reach you the quickest, and which times during your schedule you have a break
never would you have thought he would use this knowledge to avoid you
it continues like that for the weeks following the announcement
you have no choice but to spend time with your future fiance when your father tells you very clearly to “ensure the prince feels at home”
prince jaehyun is warm and you find yourself getting along with him like you two are friends, but that is it - there are no sparks brighter than friendship
when you spend time with him, you cannot help but compare him to san; san would’ve said this, san would’ve done that, san, san, san
jaehyun engages you in conversation, easily filling in the gaps and lulls with little comments here and there, equipped with a charming laugh and deep dimples
but it only reminds you of san’s dimples and crescent eyes when you two would race through corridors, fingers tightly interwoven as you both run away to a secluded area with hushed giggles
jaehyun points out that neither of you like mushrooms during a dinner and helps nudge the servings on both of your plates to one side
the smile as you say “thank you” does not fully grace your lips because you think about san, who boasts that he will eat all the mushrooms in the world so that you never have to lay eyes on one ever again
jaehyun offers a soft yet sturdy hand to help you down the stairs or when he notices you are walking in heels across an uneven surface
your body recalls san’s rough, calloused hands that leave a trail of goosebumps wherever they touch your bare skin as he worships your body all night long
jaehyun is handsome and he is kind, but he is not san
the night before the king officially announces your engagement with prince jaehyun arrives
and still, you have not had a moment alone with san since he disappeared during that first announcement in the great hall
hurt and longing consume you to the very core
some days it is manageable, a concealed yet incessant thought, like a sticker stuck to the sole of your shoe
other days it wraps around your soul completely like a constrictor tightening as it slowly squeezes the life out of its prey
but you know that you cannot be selfish
what you feel, san feels with an intensity multiplied several times
after all, you are not the one who must stand in the shadows as the love of your life becomes engaged to somebody else, powerless to do anything but watch and poison your own smile with lies
you are lying on your bed when a quick, sharp knock sounds on your bedroom doors
you make no move to acknowledge your visitor, having told your maids very clearly you did not want to be disturbed tonight
your last night as yourself before you become prince jaehyun’s fiance
but then the knocks come a little more urgent, a little more frantic, just like your heartbeat does as it starts to speed up in anticipation
you hold your breath as you hurry to pull open the doors-
and there he is
“san-”
he swallows the rest of your words in a desperate kiss, his hands coming up to cradle your jaw as he walks you backwards so that he can step into your room
he tilts your head and slots his lips against yours again while he nudges your door closed with his foot
it isn’t until you let out a whine as his tongue swipes over your bottom lip that he pulls back to finally look at you, both of his thumbs caressing your cheekbones
you grip the front of his linen shirt, afraid that he will disappear as soon as you let go
“san, i- i had no idea, i didn’t agree to any of this”
he shushes you gently, a painful smile adorning his handsome face
“i know. i know, so please don’t cry, love,” he murmurs softly
you don’t even realise the weeks of suppressed emotions have started making their way down your face in salty trails until san uses the back of his fingers to tenderly brush them away
“i’m getting engaged tomorrow, san,” your voice breaks as reality settles in
you are so afraid
you are so lost
above all, you are so in love with san
“i know,” he reassures again, “but until tomorrow, you are still mine”
and so you spend your last night together
time has always been precious; conversations, kisses and touches rushed and with fervour
but tonight, san takes his time with you
he lays on your bed with you cradled on top of him, limbs tangled together as he savours the taste of your lips against his
he turns you onto your back as he slowly undresses you, leaving tattoos of his love each time he bares another part of your body
he pleasures you with his fingers whilst whispering into your ears, creating a harmony with his praises and the melodious moans that leave your lips
and as he brings you both to your highs numerous times throughout the night like an ingrained dance routine, it is accompanied with confessions of i love you
san holds you against his chest under your blankets so tightly that you cannot tell where your body ends and his body starts
before you drift off, safe and protected in his arms, he murmurs against your temple, “no matter what happens tomorrow, no matter what happens in the future, my heart will always be yours”
“as will mine”
you wake up the next morning to an empty bed and an equally empty heart
restless and drowning in a mix of emotions, you pace the empty corridors of the guest bedchambers
which is where jaehyun finds you as he exits his room
he is surprised but is quick to greet you kindly, “good morning, princess. what are you doing here?”
you pause mid-step
what are you doing?
“prince jaehyun,” you let the words come out of you before you can regret them. “can we talk for a moment?”
he nods, entering his room again as he pulls the door open wider for you to follow
jaehyun closes the door and then offers you a seat on his sofa, before pulling up his own chair and settling a respectful distance away from you
“i hope you don’t feel uncomfortable in my room,” he explains, “i thought that we would be less likely to be disturbed in here…considering most people know of our engagement today”
“actually, i wanted to talk to you about that”
“go on,” he encourages you with a dimpled smile
you take a deep breath
“i’m sorry,” you blurt out
and then you are admitting to the prince that he is lovely and charming and caring, but you just don’t see it working out with him
you don’t want to get engaged with him
because your heart already belongs to somebody else
“good”
“i’m so sorry, i should have been honest with you from the start but- wait, what?” you look up from where you have been nervously picking at your cuticles
jaehyun is smiling at you - a genuine smile that you did not know he had
“i’m actually relieved to hear that, princess,” he admits. “because i…also have someone that i love back home”
and for the first time, you and jaehyun truly see each other in the same light
“who is it?” he asks
“his name is san,” and then you add on, “he has dimples just like you do” 
you ask him the same question
you see the way jaehyun’s expression softens with love from just the mere thought of the other
it makes you wonder whether you have the same look on your face when you mention san
jaehyun jokes, “want to be the one who tells your father we’re calling off the engagement? i don’t fancy getting executed today”
but despite what he says, mere hours later, when you are both standing in the great hall before your parents - the kings and queens of both your kingdoms - he is the one to speak up
“your majesty, we have decided to part ways peacefully and would not like to proceed with the engagement. our kingdom will always be your ally, regardless of marital relations or not”
“what?” you see veins starting to appear across the king’s forehead as he tries to maintain his temper, but the queen and the jeong monarchs seem to be taking the news much better
disappointed, perhaps, but understanding
the queen leans closer to remind the king that they had all agreed to this engagement on the terms that the decision would ultimately be yours and jaehyun’s
you suddenly speak up because this may be the only time you have the courage to
“i have one more thing to say,” you declare. “i revoke my noble status and thus declare nullified all the privileges, rules and traditions that come with nobility. i have someone i love and i wish to marry them as myself, not as the kingdom’s princess”
the king roars furiously, “that is enough! leave!” and he slams his hand against the throne’s armrest
shocked and betrayed by your father’s reaction, you rush out of the great hall with tears welling in your eyes
only to run straight into the waiting arms of san
“oh, princess,” he murmurs against the crown of your head as he engulfs you in his embrace
he doesn’t have to say anything for you to realise that he has heard the whole conversation
but you do not care about anything anymore
you are where you want to be, held by who you want to be with
“how are you here?” you sniffle
“jaehyun approached me earlier. i thought i was going to get beat up,” san’s attempt to make you smile is successful
when you lift your head up to look at him, you realise his eyes are wet as well
then you feel his body stiffen as his eyes shift to focus on something behind you
someone
he immediately steps away from you, bowing deeply as he greets the queen
you turn around to see her face adorning an endearing smile
“it’s fine, sannie,” she says, and you are not sure whether you and san are more surprised by the fact that she knows him by name or by the affectionate nickname she has used
“i’ll, uh, leave you two to talk,” he flusters
she thanks him with a teasing remark, “i won’t keep her away from you for very long”
san waits further down the corridor, back turned to give you two a moment of privacy
and then she is stroking your hair affectionately
“i am so proud of you. you’ve grown up so well and you are so brave,” she says
you don’t understand
you ask, “why aren’t you angry?”
“oh, baby,” she fondly runs her fingers through your hair, just like she used to when you were younger. “before my duties as the queen to my people, i am the mother to my daughter. i love you and all i want is for you to be happy”
your lips tremble with emotion as your mother pulls you into a hug
“does sannie make you happy, dear?”
you nod, “the happiest”
“then that is all i want. now go,” she takes a hold of your shoulders and gently turns you in the direction of san. “i’ll talk to your father”
with one last encouraging squeeze, you race down the corridor towards san
he hears your footsteps and has already turned around with open arms waiting to catch you
you hear him let out an oomph! with how hard you throw yourself into him, but he is then swaying your bodies side to side
san pulls back slightly with an incredulous look. “does this mean we can be together? together together?” 
“i goddamn hope so because i gave up my princess privileges for you. no more carriages, no more assorted sweet delicacies, no more daily massages-” you fold down your fingers as you continue listing things off
he cuts you off with a tickle to your sides as he says, “that’s easy to sort out”
“first, you’ll still be my princess,” he unfurls one of your fingers so it stands upright again
“second, i’ll carry you myself so that you never need to use your feet again,” he unfurls another finger
“i’ll give you a treat whenever you want,” he kisses your lips, nibbling on your bottom lip with a teasing tug
“and, dear princess,” he pulls you flush against his body and you have to steady yourself on his chest to avoid tripping over, “i can give you hourly massages…”
smirking, he starts to lower his head to suck pretty marks onto your neck as he whispers in a low voice, “...if you can keep up”
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mingi
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pov: you're the prince's maid
for what you are about to do, you could very well be executed should somebody catch you
but desperate times call for desperate measures
and there’s no guarantee that you and all the other staff will not be executed anyway…
not with what has just happened in the palace
you push the door closed behind you with a soft click, using the brief changeover of guards to slip inside the bedroom of the youngest prince, unnoticed
you call out softly but urgently, “prince mingi”
when you hear him groggily murmur, starting to bubble towards the surface of consciousness, you dare to give his shoulder a rough shake
“prince mingi, please wake up”
his eyes flutter open, confusion starting to clear the fogginess in his head as he struggles to comprehend the sight of your face hovering inches from his, deep into the hours of the night
“w-what’s going on?” he clears his husky voice, “are you okay?”
you wish you could reach out and smooth the wrinkles of concern from his forehead
reassure him that everything will be okay until he falls back asleep
but there is no time
“the crown prince is dead and we must leave. now.”
the effect is immediate, like you have just driven a knife into his chest
although you suppose it must not feel very different for prince mingi right now
“the crown prince is d-” the word tastes vile on his tongue, so he asks after his second oldest brother instead. “what about prince eun?”
you must drive the knife into him once more
“he was the one who murdered the crown prince, but he has framed you for the murder. there is no time, prince mingi, we must leave now”
“the court will find me innocent,” yet he lets you tug him out of his bed
you hastily help prince mingi into a dark brown robe while you shake your head, “not when your inscribed sword is currently covered in the crown prince’s blood. we do not know who is secretly working for prince eun. until we know for sure, we do not stand a chance of clearing your name”
he knows that you’re right, even if his heart is hoping that you are wrong
the prince slides his hand into the gap between his bed and wall, pulling out a spare sword and wrapping the belt around his waist
eyes sweeping across his chamber one final time, he locks eyes with you grimly before turning to flee
you follow the prince through a back passageway - it’s not entirely a secret and it won’t be long before the royal guards come for the prince, discover his empty bedroom and give chase
but it is long enough to give you two a head start
he helps you up onto the back of his personal horse before he swings himself up easily onto the saddle behind you
with a nudge of his feet, the prince sends the horse into a gallop
you startle with a yelp, having never ridden a horse before, much less one at this pace
prince mingi presses himself a little closer to you and slots his chest against your back as he leans forward to guide your hands to hold the reins with his
“here,” he murmurs, “just follow me”
he shifts one hand to settle on your waist, guiding your body into a comfortable rhythm that dances in sync with the horse’s movements and his own
when he’s sure you’ve gotten the hang of it, the prince places his hand back on the reins, yet he stays close, keeping you safely encased within his arms to prevent you from falling off
you’re not sure how long you two ride for
but at some point the prince slows the horse to a canter
with the slower sway of the steed, the steady clack of hooves against the forest floor, and the warmth of the prince around you, you drift off to his whispered, “sleep, i’ve got you”
you wake up to find yourself on a scratchy pile of leaves
the events of last night piece themselves together when you spot prince mingi, still adorning his deep blue silk pajamas, leaning against a tree a few feet away
it would have been a sight to see if not for the fact that-
“what are we going to do now?” you sit up, and the prince’s robe, you now register, falls from around your body
the prince gives you a warm smile as you rub the sleep from your eyes with fisted hands
“we’ll head into halsburg. the town is small enough the news should not have traveled that far yet. we’ll replenish some supplies and go from there”
it’s unspoken
the fact that there is no solid plan from there
even if the two of you have managed to escape the royal guards, for how long can you two run?
plus, it will be impossibly difficult to find evidence while on the run, when the answers are within the castle walls themselves
but you push those thoughts aside as you two enter halsburg, the prince’s hood pulled up over his face
you do the bulk of the purchases, less likely to be recognised by the townspeople
it’s mainly food and water for yourself, the prince, and his horse, and a simple tunic to replace his royal pajamas - something you have been teasing him about since you woke up
later that night, hours away from the outskirts of halsburg, you two settle for a couple hours of rest
a small fire crackles away to the song of the cicadas, an occasional pop as the licks of flames cast shadows across your faces
you glance at the prince sitting across from you, who is idly fiddling with his pajama top
specifically, the royal crest of the song family embroidered onto its front pocket
your heart clenches painfully, knowing the death of a family member is hard enough to process without the additional weight of being framed for murder, much less by your own brother who is the real culprit
“prince mingi…” you start, voice low
he glances up at you, eyes softening as he curves his lips up into a small smile, “i’m okay.”
you hesitate for a split second before letting the clench in your gut pull you to your feet, and you shuffle to settle back down in front of the fire, except this time beside the prince
all the while his eyes never leave you, not even when you nudge his shoulder softly and say,
“you don’t have to be strong. not in front of me…”
and he knows
because despite the differences in your social statuses, you are the person he trusts the most
you, the girl who used to trip over the lengths of his robes that you carried, now a woman who holds herself righteously and bravely
you, who chose to risk your own life from the moment you woke him up in his chambers
you, who is still risking your life to flee with him
“only if you stop calling me prince,” he jokingly nudges you back, attempting to make the atmosphere lighter despite the wetness that is starting to paint his eyes. “with you, i am just mingi”
“okay, prince mingi,” you tease
yet, you still extend a hand out to him, palm upturned in a silent invitation for comfort should he wish to seek it, because you can tell that he isn’t quite ready to seek it verbally
mingi laces his larger fingers through yours, tucking your interlocked hands closer to his body as he draws his knees up so that he can rest his chin upon them
mingi thinks that he feels numb more than anything, but he finds he isn’t as surprised as one would expect him to be
perhaps he always knew of his middle brother’s thirst for the throne 
he just never thought it would be enough to spill blood
for now though, he lets himself be distracted by your thumb tracing mindless patterns against his knuckles
he lets himself relish in the heat radiating from your side that seems to warm him from inside out, even as the embers of the fire slowly lose their glow and die out with the darkening night
the days start to repeat themselves
you two cover as much distance as you can while sparing what time you can afford for yourselves and mingi’s horse to rest
mingi has decided to travel to prince yunho's kingdom, an old and trusted ally who may be able to provide you two with protection while he pulls strings to fight back against prince eun
from his calculations, the journey will take at least another two weeks
and although mingi doesn’t tell you this, deep down he does not know whether you two have two weeks left
the threat of the royal guards catching up hangs over the two of you like a hangman’s noose
neither of you have brought up that night by the fire either
but something has definitely changed in the way you seek comfort and reassurance in each other
as if so long as you have each other, everything will be alright in the end
when you feel him tremble as he sleeps curled around you, restless from a plaguing nightmare, you hush sweet nothings and brush his locks away from his forehead until his breathing steadies out again
and when you’re seated on the saddle in front of him, you now having long grown accustomed to horse riding, he still finds himself resting a comforting hand on you somewhere - your hips, thigh or over your own hand
sometimes when he is laughing softly with you, your arms brushing against each other, you imagine a different story; one where you are worthy of loving him
sometimes when you are tucked into his chest, small exhales escaping your open lips as you sleep, mingi imagines a different story; one where he is able to love you freely
because despite the blood running through his veins that has ultimately led to his downfall, you still look at him as though he has placed the stars in the very sky that you two have spent countless nights under
and although he knows the reality is that he cannot, he tries to write his own story, even if just for tonight
you are lying in his arms, legs tangled together, when the question comes tumbling out of his lips
“will you stay with me, forever?”
he feels you still in his embrace, before you’re pulling back a little to look at him with a chuckle
“you should be asking a princess that, prince mingi, not somebody like me”
“you are a princess in my eyes”
you can’t help the endearing look that crosses over your face as you lightly tap his nose, “you know that is not how it works”
“then we can run away. for i am already as good as dead to my kingdom,” he tells you with boyish determination
“you cannot, mingi. your people need a good prince”
“but what prince would i be if i cannot even boldly love you? the person who is dearest to me?”
under his sincere gaze and the weight of his words, you allow him this moment of solace
because perhaps, you want it just as much as he does
“okay, i’ll be your princess,” you breathe out
“forever?”
“forever”
that night, it is just you and mingi - no titles that separate your world from his, no looming threat of death - just two people in love
even as an uneasy pit settles at the bottom of mingi’s stomach, a growing feeling that gnaws away at him into the early hours of the next morning
he is startled awake, your expression frightened, and he immediately understands when he hears the thunderous chorus of hooves hitting the ground towards you two
mingi had known there was not much time left, but he did not think that the inevitable confrontation would happen this soon, only mere hours after the soft kiss he had pressed against your forehead
the desperate attempt to escape once more is futile, the royal guards closing the distance within minutes
left with no choice but to stop, you and mingi demount and the guards move to flank you both in a wide semicircle
when the head of the guards, prince eun, saunters forward, mingi matches with a stride of his own so that he can step in front of you
“you killed the crown prince, eun,” mingi spits at his brother
“running and denying your actions up until your very last moments, i see,” prince eun laughs condescendingly. “and you even took a little dog with you, too”
mingi presses you closer to his back, hiding you from the leering gaze of his brother
prince eun smiles smugly at mingi’s reaction, before he takes out a scroll and unravels it
“for high treason of the assassination of the crown prince, the king hereby decrees the immediate revocation of nobility of his third son, song mingi, and for the execution of song mingi and his maid upon sighting.”
you press your nose into mingi’s back, taking one last inhale of his familiar scent
the bowmen all take aim as prince eun sneers, “any last words, brother?”
mingi turns around, and all you can see in that moment are his warm eyes and dimpled cheeks
“i love you, my princess,” he proclaims
“forever,” you reply
he brings his lips down to connect them with yours, drowning out the distinct vibration of loosening strings and the hiss of flying arrows with the roaring symphony in your hearts
you’re unsure what pain swallows you whole first - the pain as an arrowhead sinks into your chest, or the pain as you realise that this is the end of your short-lived love with mingi
you struggle to keep the smile on your face as you lock eyes with mingi, trying to memorise the loving gaze that adorns his own face
you see his mouth moving, but the pain exploding throughout your body is too loud for you to make out his words
with your last breath, you gasp out your final confession, “i love you too, mingi. we’ll meet again in the next life”
as the world starts to fade away, cold creeping into your limbs, you hope that in another story, in another lifetime, you and mingi will be able to find each other again
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wooyoung
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pov: you're the princess of a rival kingdom
“absolutely not, advisor lee,” your mother raises her nose in the air
“your highness, i understand but-”
“oh please, do not flatter yourself, queen cho,” queen jung spits out, “you are not the only one who abhors the idea”
you glare at the prince sitting across from you, your own gazes reflecting the tension in the room
advisor lee has suggested that your family and the jung family host a joint royal ball as a grand display of amity between the two neighbouring kingdoms, particularly between the princess - yourself - and their prince - prince wooyoung
there have been spreading rumours in town of the strained relationship between the two royal families
which aren’t entirely untrue
as a child, the two kingdoms have been loyal and steadfast in their alliance and friendship
in fact, it is not uncommon to find you joining prince wooyoung in his kitchen, begging the chefs to let you two lick the spoons
or to find prince wooyoung squatting next to you in your garden as you both look at the ladybugs
but as power imbalances emerge and political agendas start to diverge, a wedge is driven between your families
the relation is now dangerously close to severing completely, but not without the increasing attention of the towns surrounding the two kingdoms
and one of the last things both royal families need is unease and disunity amongst the commoners
which brings advisor lee to look on with exasperation as he tries to do his job - advise
except neither your mother nor queen jung look ready to accept his advice
your father nods slightly at the two of you, “you are dismissed, as are you, prince wooyoung”
you curtsy as the prince takes a slight bow, before you obnoxiously flick your hair over your shoulder and turn away on your heels
you escape to the garden, knowing that the meeting will take at least another hour before you are required to bid the jung family farewell
except, surprise surprise
who do you run into
you narrow your eyes at prince wooyoung as he steps towards you, who has one eyebrow quirked, “a royal ball, he says?”
“absolutely not,” you fold your arms across your chest
“oh please, do not flatter yourself, princess,” he sneers, not dissimilar to the nasally tone his mother had voiced her dissatisfaction earlier with
neither of you back down, daring the other to say something else
before you two break out into giggles, eyes glittering scandalously
“did you see your mother deliberately pass the salt instead of sugar for the tea?”
“and then the face my mother made when she took a sip of it-”
he pulls you to crouch behind an azalea bush as you both chortle like children, out of sight, before he brings you in for a dizzying kiss 
you sigh, resting a hand on his chest
“do you also abhor the idea of dancing with me, prince wooyoung?” a teasing lilt in your voice
“absolutely,” he nods grimly, “why go to all that effort when there is a much grander and longer-lasting solution?”
“and what is that, my prince?”
he sneaks another chaste kiss from your lips, “for me to take your hand in marriage, my princess”
at his words, your smile dampens
“you know that i would say yes in a heartbeat. it is not i who needs convincing, but our parents”
because despite the growing hostility between your two families, the relationship you share with wooyoung has, ironically, blossomed into one of well-concealed adoration, intimacy and love
you two have come to learn that that one slightly lighter stone on the western side of your kingdom’s outer walls comes loose, and is the perfect size for slipping a piece of paper behind it
you two have also come to learn that every fourth week, if you ask your personal tutor enough questions about the plants laid out on the store’s table in front of you during your scheduled lesson in town, you’ll be able to drag it out long enough for you both to just catch a glimpse of each other as he and his escorts cut through the town on their way back to his kingdom
and of course, you two have come to learn the most isolated spots in your own respective kingdoms, like the second stairwell leading down to the cellar in wooyoung’s palace
and amongst the azalea bushes in the back garden in yours
which is exactly how you knew that he would appear, how you knew that he would give you those sweet kisses you have been craving so desperately 
as wooyoung cups your jaw to kiss you once more, one that leaves you wanting to chase his lips forever, he bets you that it’ll only take two weeks of close-quarter meetings between your royal families before one of your mothers blow up and the ball idea falls through completely
in response, you bet him that they won’t even last two weeks - one at the most
except you’re both wrong
the meeting turns into two, followed by several more as the planning goes ahead
sometimes, the meetings are held in the jung palace
other times, their family journeys to your kingdom instead
one thing that stays constant is the malevolence in the air
the parents are sarcastic snipes and saccharine smiles
and on the surface, you and wooyoung are further extensions of your own parents’ simmering loathing for the other
but under the intricately-carved wooden table, you two are playing footsies, jeweled heels and leather shoes engaged in a playful fight
you see how many times you can slide your heels up along his shin, gradually inching closer towards his inner thigh with each coquettish touch
he has you pass him anything and everything under the guise of forgoing the help of the numerous royal butlers and maids around the room to deliberately irritate you
really, it is to accidentally brush his fingers over your hands; to see the pretty shade of rose that settles over your cheeks and ears as you both try not to break out into giggles
and perhaps, during the meals that may take place during the meetings, there have been a couple of peas flicked at each other here and there when no one is paying attention
(unbeknownst to you two, the maids and butlers alike must hide their own endearing smiles)
the weeks turn into months and you practically have a permanent glow radiating from you, now that you have been seeing the prince so frequently
(which also does not go unnoticed)
as you select a necklace from the assortment of choices to emphasise the plunging neckline of your off-shoulder gown, you wonder how the day of the royal ball has arrived so quickly
your personal maid, jihye, carefully fixes the clasp of the necklace around you before stepping back to let you look in the mirror
you smooth a hand over the soft lavender charmeuse of your dress, nervously looking at jihye
“how do i look?”
“stunning, my princess,” she assures you, before adding, “prince wooyoung will definitely love it”
“prin- he- what? i- sorry?” you say unintelligibly, before you try to salvage the situation by tucking a lock of hair behind your ear as you laugh her off
but jihye just looks at you knowingly
meanwhile, prince wooyoung is already at the grand hall, the jung family having arrived two days prior for the final preparations of the ball
he and his friends, princes from kingdoms located further up north and towards the east, are lingering around one of the tables decorated with flower arrangements and elaborate candle holders, ignoring the longing glances of other attendees, women and men alike, thrown at their striking posse
wooyoung is trying to keep his gaze subtle, scanning the vast number of people at the ball without craning or turning his head, searching for one particular face
yours
prince yeosang nudges the others, jerking his chin to motion towards the distracted wooyoung
when wooyoung finally realises he isn’t as subtle as he thinks, all his friends are already looking at him with varying degrees of smirks
“just know that if there were not so many people here,” wooyoung begins with a pleasant smile, “i would flip you all off right now”
before he can try stepping on his friends’ toes in the form of petty revenge, prince seonghwa points towards the entrance as his smile grows impossibly wider
“look”
wooyoung turns around
and like any typical man who is head over heels in love, the world around him slows down
the gushing whispers spreading throughout the ballroom fade into the background
because finally, there you are, gracefully stepping past the threshold of the arched doorway in all your alluring beauty, accentuated by the way your curled locks and flowing gown frame your body
for the briefest moment, you lock eyes with him, and wooyoung feels his brain shutting down on him
“you’re going to catch a fly in your mouth, woo”
“pick up your jaw. it’s on the ground”
prince yunho pretends to dab wooyoung’s mouth with the ruffled sleeves of his cream shirt, “you’re drooling, darling”
at that, wooyoung smacks his lips dazedly before coming to a moment of realisation, blinking hard twice to bring himself back to reality
“god, you’re hopeless. just go up and talk to her,” prince hongjoong snickers. “the whole point of this ball is to show off how ���close’ your families are anyway”
wooyoung grumbles that he knows, he’s just looking for the right timing
which, unfortunately, does not seem to come
you spend what feels like the next two hours being whisked around, feigning polite interest as you are forced to engage in dull and bland conversations with numerous men of differing royal statuses, all of whom are no doubt trying to make an impression on you in hopes of becoming a potential suitor in the future
not that you have eyes for anyone apart from the one who already has your heart
the very same person who is currently fed up with watching you converse and let your hands be kissed by men who are not him
even if he knows you are pretending, he thinks that you sure are damn good at giggling at all the right times
you are trying not to let your smile turn into a grimace as the older-aged man, lord ryu you think, boasts of his wealth to you, when wooyoung enters your peripheral vision
“princess, lord ryu,” he greets you both, before looking down at the latter, “pardon me as i take the princess for a dance”
lord ryu, visibly irked but unable to say anything to the prince of significantly higher status, lets go of your hand to step back into a bow, “of course, prince wooyoung”
you giggle, this time genuinely, as wooyoung takes your hand to gently lead you towards the center of the ballroom, where several others are starting to waltz to the soft music that is now playing
you rest a hand just below his shoulder, feeling the sturdiness of his muscles flexing beneath his shirt, as he places his other hand to settle on the dip of your waist
a little possessively, you might add
“you look beautiful today,” he murmurs lowly, away from any prying ears
“only today?” you quirk an eyebrow teasingly
his voice drops down an octave, “well it’s not every day that i can tell you, princess”
wooyoung’s eyes flicker down hungrily to look at your lips
you run your tongue slowly over your bottom lip, knowing it will drive him absolutely crazy that he cannot just take you right there and then in front of everybody
and you can see the moment his resolve snaps
“meet me for some fresh air in ten,” bringing his lips as close to the shell of your ear as he dares
and then he’s gone
you become progressively antsy as you wait out a generous amount of time after he leaves for you to also slip away from the ballroom
wooyoung pins you against a pillar as soon as you emerge in the garden, aching to kiss you and fight for dominance until you’re both breathless and light-headed
“you don’t know how desperately i wanted to kiss you in front of everyone - let the whole world know that you’re mine,” he nips at your bottom lip
you rest your hands on his chest, fingers curled around the pleated front of his satin shirt to hold yourself steady as he turns your lips into an artwork of swollen cherry reds
he tilts your head back a little more, your mouths moving in tandem, soft moans drawn out of you, when-
“what in god’s name is going on?”
you and wooyoung startle apart at the shriek
the blush dusting your faces pale almost immediately at the sight of not just your mother, but also queen jung and a few of the royal staff
it’s kind of amusing that of all things for the two queens to have the same mindset about, it is the discovery of you and wooyoung’s secret relationship that unites them, both sharing twin expressions of horror and revulsion
you’re ripped from each other’s arms as you are forced back into the confines of your bed chamber, royal ball long forgotten
your only solace is learned later that night, when jihye brings a trolley of food you have no appetite for, that the jung family have not yet returned to their kingdom
they are still in your palace somewhere
yet that does little to soothe your tears, overwhelmed by the drastic turn of events, and you do not know when you fall asleep that night
all you know is that it is to a bed too cold and a longing in your heart too gaping to ignore
“princess,” you look up to see jihye standing at your door the next morning, almost apologetic, “the king and queen request for your presence in the throne room”
as you approach the room after tidying your appearance, your breath hitches when you spot him just by the double doors
you barrel forwards into his waiting arms, uncaring of the staff following behind you
not that they have the heart to stop you either way
“i thought you would have been forced to leave,” you blurt, unable to believe that wooyoung is right in front of you
“i’m still here,” he chuckles. “i have been summoned by your parents”
your heart drops down to your stomach at his words as you realise what this meeting is about
“and i am glad they did, princess,” wooyoung is quick to interject before your apology makes it past the tip of your tongue. “i am going to ask for your hand in marriage. officially”
“what if they banish us from ever seeing each other again?” worry overwhelms you as your breathing quickens
wooyoung gently laces his fingers through yours, bringing up his other hand to cup your face and run his thumb comfortingly over the curve of your cheekbone to keep you grounded
“no matter what happens today, no matter what the outcome is,” he looks at you with the fierce determination of a man ready to give up anything and everything for your sake, “i will never ever stop fighting for you”
he presses his soft lips against yours
“for us,” he vows
your breathing evens out, and while your heartbeat still pounds inside your ribcage, you know that it marches in rhythm with the man in front of you
this time, not afraid to appear in front of the rulers of your kingdoms - your parents - you and wooyoung nod in reassurance at each other once more, hand in hand, before you both push the doors to the throne room open
together.
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jongho
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pov: you're under his protection as your royal guard
over the din of volunteered names in the meeting room, jongho steps forward
“your majesty, i will accompany the princess,” he declares
“choi jongho?” your father scans him up and down with regard before nodding in approval, “it is decided then”
“him? surely i need another person with me as well?” you protest
your father quirks an eyebrow at you, a subtle reminder that whilst he is your father, he is also the king
“no, you will need to travel in disguise and stay as discreet as possible. only jongho will accompany you as your royal guard”
your father looks away and starts to address the next item on the meeting agenda; it is quite clear there is no room for argument
meanwhile, jongho sidles up to you
“you trying to catch bugs or something? close your mouth, princess,” he teases under his breath
you nudge him with an elbow, “you’re the only bug i see around here”
he rolls his eyes but you both snicker in unison when one of your older sisters turns around to shush you with a dirty look
regardless, you stay silent for the rest of the meeting
you’re not sure why jongho stepped forward to take on this task
because for someone who is your main royal guard and is supposed to be loyal and obedient, he sure makes it clear that his job is about as gratifying as babysitting
(“you can’t talk to me like that. i’m the princess”)
(“no, you’re not. you’re an idiot”)
in fact, when you had been notified a few days prior that you would be traveling with one other royal guard - who had yet to be decided at the time - jongho had spent every single day gloating that he would finally get a break from babysitting you
and yet here he is
with the opportunity to hand you off to somebody else
but instead, baring his teeth at the other guards who offer themselves up for this scouting mission
he would never admit to it either, but jongho personally spoke to the king years ago about being rostered on as your main bodyguard since he’s “known the princess for the longest and so i can protect her the best”
you don’t want to travel to the border
you’re in charge of maintaining security and defense along your borders and with neighbouring kingdoms, usually dealing with complications remotely through the ministers and advisors who work for you
this time though, there has been recent unrest near the southern borders of your kingdom near denport, a city notorious for bandits and fugitives
the situation has worsened with increased risk of bloodshed, thus has the need for you to survey the borders in person
and as the youngest sibling of five, the king has made it very clear that this is your opportunity to prove your capabilities
jongho makes sure to remind you of this fact when you grumble your way through packing a satchel of essential items to take with you
(“your fluffy slippers are not essential, princess”)
(you listen and throw them back onto the floor of your bedchambers, but stuff in a few paperweights when he isn’t looking out of petty revenge because you know he’ll end up carrying your bag for you later when you ask him to)
it’s a relatively long journey to denport, so as soon as you are ready, jongho having long finished packing his own bag, you leave your kingdom with him at your side
by the time the sun is starting to set later that day, you’re passing through a small town
he suggests calling it a night and recuperating at one of the inns
you wait while he inquires about available rooms and then follow him through a small alleyway to the inn that he has chosen for the night
you take all but one look at the rotting wood and creaking sign at the entrance before you are crossing your arms like a petulant child
“there’s no way i’m staying the night in this sorry excuse of an inn”
he merely blinks
“you’re technically not the princess right now so you better listen to me or god help me, i’ll-”
“you’ll what,” you challenge, nose-to-nose
or nose-to-throat, you suppose
but before you can dwell any further on your height difference, jongho picks you up, slings you over his shoulder like you are nothing more than a sack of potatoes, and walks into the inn without a care in the world that you are screaming bloody murder
you resign to your fate and flop uselessly against his back as he carries you up the stairs
instead, when he throws you onto the bed upon entering the room, you look up at him sultrily and smirk, “ooh, now i’m turned on”
jongho shakes his head with exasperation but you don’t miss the redness that is creeping up the back of his neck as he turns around to close the door shut
“wait,” you sit up on the bed, “we’re sharing a room?”
“it’s safer. i’ll sleep on the sofa”
you scrunch your nose at the arrangement, but you do admittedly feel a little more at ease in the unfamiliar room of the inn
you start to take a shoe off before a thought flits through your mind and you point the shoe in your hand at him like a weapon, “you better not snore”
jongho rolls his eyes as he steps forward to take the shoe out of your hand, and then he is bending down to help slip off the shoe from your other foot
a thank you lies on the tip of your tongue
“you’re the only snorer in this room, princess”
nevermind.
it’s gone.
you’re settled in bed, waiting for jongho to finish washing up and turn off the lights, when you spot it
holy shit
your immediate reaction is to seek his protection
“jongho!”
the door to the bathroom swings open almost immediately as he rushes out, eyes alarmed, alert, and zeroing onto you
water drips off the ends of his hair and you can still spot suds on his exposed torso
“what’s wrong? are you okay? are you hurt?” his voice is laced with restrained panic
you point to the corner of the room and then he sees it too
his body stiffens completely
because, mere metres from the two of you, presence sinister and dangerous…
is a fucking spider
all is quiet and still for a while, your eyes flickering back and forth between your royal guard and the spider in a tense standoff
then, just as you are about to speak up, jongho grabs his bag and swiftly turns on his heels to head towards the room’s door
“where are you going?!” you shriek
he looks at you forlornly from over his shoulder, “to prepare for my execution”
“what the fuck are you on about, jongho?”
“for abandoning my duties and failing to protect you. farewell, princess. you are on your own from here-”
his sentence is cut short as the spider scuttles towards him
and that is how you two, disguised, but still a royal princess and royal guard no less, are given an eviction warning because he streaked through the corridors of the inn half naked and screaming at the top of his lungs
needless to say, the innkeeper ends up having to remove the spider for the two of you
“you’re so embarrassing,” you whisper to him once you two are finally settled in bed and on the sofa
“no, i’m jongho,” he cackles
you don’t humour him with a response, but you know he snickers himself to sleep that night
you can’t help but let the corner of your lips tug up as well
a few days later after leaving the town, you two are resting side by side against a tree trunk when you decide to grace jongho with the opportunity to redeem himself
he’s currently halving a sandwich so you two can share
“if i were trapped in a forest full of spiders and you were the only person who could save me,” you ask gravely, “what would you do?”
without missing a beat, he replies, “prepare to grieve your death and make sure your pet cat is well fed in your honour”
he passes you the bigger sandwich as you turn to look at him with the most scandalised expression
“can you at least pretend to think for a bit?” you grumble
there’s a hint of a smile on jongho’s face when he apologises, “okay, sorry. ask me again”
you hit him with a different scenario this time
“if you had to fight a giant spider who had taken me hostage, what would you do?”
he hums thoughtfully for a few seconds, unscrewing a canteen of water for you and placing it by your side
“i would say, she is all yours, your spidery majesty, and then i would bow and walk away”
“fuck you,” you shove him good-naturedly with your shoulder
he swipes the canteen before you can knock it over and presses it into your smaller hand instead, giving it a quick pat as he dismisses your insult, “sure, if you think you can handle my dick”
“like they say,” you waggle your eyebrows at him as your voice drops down lower, “practice makes perfect”
jongho’s stoic facade finally cracks when you lean in closer and he hurries to stand up and put some distance between you and him
he shifts his legs subtly, clearing his throat to say, “we should go, denport is close”
when you’ve finished off the last of your sandwich, you dust off your fingers and grab jongho’s offered hand to stand up too
“let’s go”
one thing you have both noticed is that the closer you get to the border between your kingdom and denport, the quieter and thicker the atmosphere seems to get
the small towns you pass through have less people roaming around; in fact, most people seem to flee back into the refuge of their own houses, locking their doors and closing their windows when they catch sight of your pair
and then it happens
your plan goes awry
you and jongho are harshly awoken by a commotion outside the small room you have rented for the night
there’s a sickening smell accompanied by wails of grief in the air
when you rush outside, all you can see is a huge crowd of people gathered and your ears strain to pick up on the broken hushes of information being thrown around
“his son is lucky to have been spared”
“lucky to have seen his father slaughtered by bandits?”
“i heard it wasn’t money that they were after, though”
“those damned denport devils are up to something”
that’s all you pick up on before jongho snatches your arm and leads you back into the inn, telling you that it’s too dangerous to be out there; too dangerous for you two to continue traveling
which leads to the very first argument you ever have with him
you two butt heads all the time with your own fiery fronts and hardheadedness but more often than not, he yields to you
you’re facing him in the dim room - it is shadier than that first inn you two made a stop at weeks ago, but you’re both sharing one room just like you two have done at every single inn since
“we need to go check it out!” you shout at him
jongho takes a shaky breath as he tries to keep his voice even, “no, we should go back to our kingdom, report on the situation and call for backup!”
you throw your hands up into the air, “we’re already here - we’re basically at denport! what if something blows up soon? it might be too late by the time we go back”
jongho steps in closer as his eyes narrow
you don’t cower because you know he would never hurt you, but you do step backwards because you don’t think you can keep a clear head when he is standing so close to you, proximity dizzying like the buzz of alcohol
“of all times for you to play hero and do something that you weren’t asked to, why now? why put yourself in danger?”
your back hits the wall as jongho corners you
your chest heaves, as does his, both of you overwhelmed with emotions
he holds your gaze but his eyes are rounded with agony and distress
you don’t understand why he is so against your decision
you don’t know what to say, until your eyes flicker down involuntarily at the movement of his lips parting to exhale-
“damn, jongho, your lips are real chapped. you should use some of my lip balm”
he blinks hard at the absurdity of what you chose to say
he looks at your lips
he makes a decision
“then give me some of yours,” he says, a little breathless
and then he’s pressing his chapped lips against your smooth ones, the taste of coconut filling your mouth as your lip balm smears
suddenly, he pulls back with the audacity to look shocked as if you are the one who kissed him
and then he leaves the room without another word
he doesn’t return that night and you don’t manage to sleep either
you wonder when you started becoming used to falling asleep with him in the same room
jongho clears his throat awkwardly when you open the door in the morning and find him leaning against the wall just by the doorframe
you’re not sure whether he came back not too long ago from god knows where, or whether he was actually standing guard outside all night
you think you know which one it is, even if he doesn’t confirm it
“we’re checking out,” he mumbles, shuffling briskly into the room to grab his few belongings he had left and exiting the room again with you trailing behind
neither of you say much more to each other
you think that he’s going to lead you back the way you two came, lead you back and undo the weeks’ worth of journeying and go back to the castle
but then he’s sighing, deep and burdened, and he gently takes your hand to continue on towards denport
he’s never held your hand before
not like this, at least, tenderly tugging you along with every step so that you are no more than a few inches away from his side
you want to bicker with him and chortle together like usual but you keep quiet, giving him the space that he appears to need even if he is physically ensuring you are tucked right into his side
you two walk until the sun has dipped below the horizon
from what you know, you are right along the southern border and denport will only be another half day’s walk away
jongho makes a small bonfire before he joins you to lean against a fallen log
he shimmies off his coat and drapes it over your legs and then the forest also settles into silence along with you both
it’s now or never
“why are you so against us going to the border?” you ask him
he runs his fingers through his hair
an unruly tuft of hair stays upright and you fold your arms to stop yourself from reaching out and smoothening it for him
he looks at you as he says, “i’m fine with me going to the border, it’s you i’m not fine with. you do remember that i’m your royal guard, right”
“is that all there is to your reason,” you push, “that you’re my guard?”
you both know you’re referring to more than just the argument itself
jongho’s gaze breaks away, looking ahead at the flames of the fire instead
he is silent
for once, jongho is unarmed; no immediate snark or teasing remark to toss back at you
you hear him swallow and take a breath
“i…i don’t know,” he starts. “all i know is that with each passing day, the more i want to keep you safe”
jongho looks at you again, eyebrows drawn down ever so slightly
“why do you make me feel so worried?”
at his words, your heart clenches in an unfamiliar way and you attempt to lighten the mood, “maybe you like me”
“maybe i do”
oh.
with the reflection of the fire dancing in his eyes, it almost looks as though he is about to cry
“please, don’t go to the border, princess,” he begs softly
his plea remains unwavering and you find your heart doing the exact opposite
after a few seconds of silence, you say
“okay, jongho. i won’t”
the tension from his shoulders seeps out and he gently tugs you towards him so he can tuck you into his side once again
“you promise that we turn around and go back tomorrow morning?”
you nod against the warmth of the crook of his neck, then murmur, “do you think father will be disappointed in me? for returning?”
he rubs a hand up and down your arm soothingly
“of course not, princess. you’ve already done so much more than you needed to. he’ll be proud of you”
and then he adds on, “just like i’m proud of you”
this is the first time anyone has ever really validated your efforts; being the youngest of a large family means you are often overshadowed
caught off guard, all you can do is whisper out, “thank you, jongho”
he hums and you feel his smile against the crown of your head
you’ve never been drunk before, but you think that this is the closest you have ever gotten
you are intoxicated by him
“if you’re thankful,” the rumble of jongho’s voice against your cheek is pleasant, “can i ask for something?”
“whatever you want”
he eases you from the comfort of his neck and tilts your chin up slightly with a finger, cheeky grin plastered across his face
“can i have some more of your lip balm?”
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elizakai · 23 days ago
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He’s so pretty🥺
uhm ahem yes this is my edgy oc from my preteen years his nickname is Rust and he’s pathetic🥰
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@elizakai's oc that I decided to draw on par with Sage.
@swiftmitsu's oc Moss, that I decided to draw on par with Kai's oc.
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stellarmoth01 · 2 days ago
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It is finally time for you to wake up. All of this is you.
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This one was just kinda soothing to draw, I really like the funny bird
Me drawing the long quiet (location) for the millionth time, inverting its colors for some reason, and promptly evaporating into the void
An alt version and some zoom ins and stuff under the cut:
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Terrible picture of the lineart I am so sorry I didn’t save an actual file of it so it’s just. A photo of the screen lmao
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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 7 months ago
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Lover's Quarrel
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Pairing: Dark (aged-up) Katsuki Bakugo x (female) Reader
▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
Female Reader
SUMMARY: You get away from Bakugo’s toxic clutches. But soon your peace comes to an end.
WARNINGS: Toxic Relationship; minor Violence/Abuse.
AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.
I just realized today is his birthday, so here it is :) hope you guys like this.
“...you better damn pick up my calls, (Y/N). I’m losing my patience here so you better get that fucking attitude out of your system or I’ll do it for you. Swear to god I’m gonna drag your stupid ass back home if you don’t come to your damn senses and if you fucking think that-”
You press a button, closing the voicemail with a sigh. Throwing your phone to the bed’s edge, you turn your back to it, curling yourself into a ball. 
Your mind is an unstable whirlwind of thoughts and worries and a solitary tear rolls down your face. It’s not fair.
None of this is fair.
You pull the blankets over you, but even their warmth isn't enough to calm the cold that scatters through your body. 
A sob breaks your composure and you hastily push your face into the pillow, smothering down the ugly sobs and whines that break out. 
It takes a long time until your eyes are finally dry and you have no more tears to weep.
But even afterwards, as you finally fall asleep, the heavy feeling still weighs on your heart.
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Ding. 
Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. 
Your friend looks at you and you’re quick to mute the notifications that pop up, eyes catching sight of the messages that Bakugo is spamming you before you black the screen. 
“I know I’ve asked before, but is everything really okay?” she asks, ignoring the movie on display in favor of looking at you, a concerned wrinkle settling between her brows.
“You seem… so distracted ever since you came. Is it about Bakugo?” 
You shift on the couch, uncomfortable. 
“It’s nothing.” you hesitantly tell her, measuring your words carefully. None of your friends know about the depth of Bakugo’s dark side and you’d rather not involve them.
Even though you’re almost sure that she suspects something is up, especially with the unannounced way you dropped by unannounced a couple of days ago, asking if you could stay a few days. 
“You can tell me, you know that, right? I’m not gonna judge or whatever.” 
You nod, giving her a small smile but no words come out of you despite the hefty weight on your mind. You don’t want to burden her with your problems. 
“I know, don’t worry. We’re just giving it some time. Lover’s quarrel and all.” you try to joke even though there's no humor in your smile.
"I see, okay." your friend draws a small smile, hesitating for a moment before letting it be. 
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Work drags far too slowly. 
Boring paperwork to be filled, a few documents that need reviewing.
Nothing that actually manages to successfully distract you away from your current problems. If anything, it leaves you with far too much time for your mind to wander through your situation.
A definitive break-up is more complicated than what it seems as you’re aware that Bakugo won’t peacefully accept that. 
Just the idea of having to deal with an even angrier Katsuki has you cowering further into your chair and you distract yourself by opening your work email, digging into the emails that need to be answered. 
You’ll think about Bakugo later. 
“Later” arrives much earlier than what you expect.
When the clock hits 6 p.m you reluctantly turn off the computer, gathering your jacket and your purse. 
When you check your phone out of habit, the lack of messages surprises you. Strange.
Maybe Bakugo is finally catching the hints that you want to be left alone? You sure hope so.
You couldn’t be more wrong about it and you almost jump when your co-worker shrieks in delight, nudging your arm as you retrieve your car keys from the purse. 
“Oh god, he’s so cute, damn. Seems like someone was eager to see you.” 
Your heart drops at the sight of the blonde man that leans against your car, crimson eyes fixed on you.
“You’re so lucky. My boyfriend never comes to pick me up.” she whines before finally saying a distracted goodbye, throwing adoration filled glances at Bakugo when she walks away. 
For a moment, you consider leaving your car in the open parking-lot. You could take the bus to your friend’s apartment. It would be no big deal, only half an hour before reaching her place. 
But the impassive expression on your boyfriend’s face warns you not to ignore him and you don’t doubt Bakugo’s ability to cause a overly explosive scene right in front of your workplace. 
Your legs walk on their own towards him and he straightens up, pushing himself off the hood as he walks to you, meeting you half-way, far too close for your comfort.
He’s wearing civilian clothes, you notice. They make his firm muscles bulge from beneath the thin material, the veins in his arms popping out with his hands hidden in the pant’s pockets, as always.  
“What do you want?” 
“Can we talk?” he asks.
“Talk then.” 
Irritation seeps into Bakugo’s face. He’s never had much patience. 
“We can talk in your car. The keys.” 
Despite his stretched hand, you don’t deposit the keys in his palm. It’s your car. It’s your life. You have to fight for it. 
“Y/n.”
You take a step back, shaking your head. 
“If you wanna talk, then we can talk here. Out in the open.” 
The corner of his mouth twitches with ire, and it compels you to take another tiny step away from him. 
“Will you stop fucking stepping away from me?” his voice booms loudly through the empty parking lot, eliciting a wince from you. “Quit acting like I’m gonna beat you to a bloody pulp or somethin’. I’m just trying to take you back home, you idiot.” 
“But I’m not going back.”
“You are.”
You clench your teeth, hoping it would help ease out the incoming flow of angry tears that threatens to spill at any moment now. 
“I said. I’m not going back.” 
Bakugo ignores your words, losing his patience upon your refusal. 
“Like hell you aren’t. I’ve had enough of this stupid attitude of yours.”
His hand latches to your wrist, holding it in a bruising grip, tight enough for you to feel the bones in your hands being painfully compressed together. 
“Ah, Katsuki, you’re hurting me!” you cry out, attempting to release his grip by using your free hand.
But your fingers are far too weak to pull him away and he groans when your nails scratch him. It makes him grip your hand harder and you sob, body limpless following forward when Bakugo tugs you in his direction. 
You bump into his hard chest, head sharply pulled back with his callous hand enveloping the back of your neck, his large palm easily covering all of it.
The tall hero doesn’t even bother looking around, unafraid of the possibility of someone walking by. Bakugo’s never been one to be overzealous, much less now that the position on Pro Hero Number 2 belongs to him. 
“You’ve had your fun these past days. But it’s over now, y’hear me?” the tips of his fingers dig into your neck, and you’re barely able to hold his threatening gaze, already knowing that you’re not coming out on top of this.
“You’re coming back home with me. No fuckin' fuss, no complaining, and that’s final. Like hell I’m gonna let you get away from me, so you better start fixing that attitude.”  
He squeezes your neck, looking at you with deadly eyes. 
“You hear me? Brat.” 
He keeps his hand on the back of your neck when guiding you to your own car, unceremoniously pushing you to the passenger’s seat before claiming the steering wheel for himself. 
A few tears escape from your eyes and you turn your face to the window, ignoring the sharp looks Bakugo throws your way.
You hug yourself, all of your hope dissolving at the realization that you’re never truly gonna be free from him. 
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aloisiahalo · 2 years ago
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Today is birth of mine, woo
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noceurous · 3 months ago
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a guide to dating in twenty first century
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now you’re on a second date with him, you’re not on his lap but he is between your legs
warnings: implied age-gap, swearing, mention of abusive behavior (not by joel or reader), mention of bad childhoods and life struggles, some angst, nicknames (baby), fluff, smut; semi-public sex(ish), fingering (f receiving), oral (both receiving), hints of dom!joel, daddy kink, minors dni (18+), reader is able-bodied, afab, and has hair.
a/n: sorry this took so long, real-life is a chaos and sucks but thanks to Portugal pics i’m so writing the third chapter now!
[part i]
part ii: the in-between
Going to movies was definitely not on your top three for ideal dates. You usually went to the movie theater with your mom who shared your love for overpriced, extra salty, greasy popcorn and never chit chatted during the movie. Or you just went there alone, enjoying it by yourself and your popcorn.
“Would you like some popcorn?” Joel asked while you were making your way to the screening room.
You texted Joel after two days. You were worried you made him think you were pressured by him. Even though you reassured him a few times it wasn’t like that, he was a gentleman enough to think it was better to give you some space.
After getting your text, he had invited you to a movie he wanted to go to. Saying he had an extra ticket since his brother ditched on him.
“Yeah, it’d be nice.” He motioned for you to go inside, gently pressing his hand on the small of your back.
“You go in and I’ll go get them.”
“I can join—” He raised his hand, pointing through the door.
“I insist.”
Soon enough he came back holding a large bucket of popcorn, and two sodas. You noticed his hands were large enough to carry them without any trace of struggle.
And he had thick long fingers which gave you one of your best orgas—
“Thank you again.” You said as he gave you the bucket.
“Are you comfortable?” He asked as he sat down next to you. Eyes scanning you for a trace of discomfort.
“I’m on a nice fluffy seat, I've got my soda and popcorn. Also I’ve a handsome guy in my company. I don’t see any reason to complain.” You said as you threw one popcorn inside your mouth.
“If you are good with the ‘handsome’ company, then I’m good too.” He said as he took some of your popcorn.
“Are you kidding? It’s the best part.” You winked at him, earning a small chuckle.
He leant to kiss your cheek. You acted before him, your lips pressing his before they could reach your cheek.
The kiss was sweet, and soft. When he sat back you could see the pinkish hue his lips got thanks to your lip balm.
Before you made a comment about it, the lights were dimmed all the way down, meaning you had to focus on the screen, not the handsome company.
The movie was a guy’s movie; full of action and no message to give, just something to enjoy. Maybe you could watch it again with your dad. Whenever you wanted to spend quality time with him at his man cave.
You jumped when the guy blew up the car, some of the popcorn was shifted inside the bucket. He placed his hand on your thigh. It was more protective than suggestive. You knew it was more like a reflex and he had no intention but since you had the brightest idea of wearing your shortest dress it was not that innocent for you.
You could feel the goosebumps forming on your skin, and dampness on your underwear. It did not take you too long to remember your previous date, and how you ended up on his lap.
Just focus on the MOVIE.
His hand was placed in a reasonable spot, a few inches above your knee. Fingers lazily drawing circles on your skin. You glanced at him a few times but each time his eyes were locked on the screen. You knew that he was aware of your gaze. His touch on you got tighter at times, fingers moving higher, halfway to reach your dress just before the first part of the movie was over.
You looked down at your lap, precisely focusing on the casually wandering hand. Saved by a second to get caught. “So? Did you like the movie?”
“It was… entertaining.” You said as you slurped your soda, avoiding his gaze. “I enjoyed it when the guy decided to steal his stepfather’s car, who blamed him for his mother’s death.”
He raised his eyebrow, “You didn’t like it, did you?”
“Not on my top three, but not at the bottom three either. Maybe next time I can pick the movie?”
He smiled, his tongue clicking on his mouth. You knew he liked when you gave him a green light for a second date. “Next time, I’ll let you choose the movie.” He nodded, his hand squeezing your thigh. You subtly parted your thighs, letting his hand move.
When the lights got dimmed again you two were still looking each other, taking in each other for a few seconds before the second half started.
You could feels his gaze on you this time. His fingers were slower, tracing the outline of your inner thighs, moving closer to the hem of your skirt.
You breath hitched, thighs parted slightly, asking for more. You bit down on your lower lip. Breathing through the nose and watching some guy got beaten the hell out of.
Joel’s fingers brushed along the hem of your skirt, waiting there, asking for a sign of approval.
You spent each night to make yourself cum like he did but you did not get even close enough to finish it.
Your body took over the control; you snuggled next to him, raising your hips a little. His fingertips disappeared under your skirt. You looked up to him, seeing the smirk on his face.
His middle finger traced your wet slit through your underwear. Pressing onto your clit, you almost jumped when the pleasure hit you like electricity. Your hand got on his thigh, your fingernails digging onto his hard denim.
He was playing with you as you did to him. You could feel his bulge under rough denim. Fingers dancing slowly on the shape, hearing his breath hitch when you pressed your fingertips on it.
He threw his arm around your shoulder, pressing your body closer to his. His other hand was still on your underwear, playing with the band of it.
You pressed your palm against him, gently stroking him up and down. He slid your underwear to the side, exposing you to him. You cursed under your breath as his fingers played with your folds.
You raised your head, pressing your lips along his jawline. His salt pepper beard trickled your lips but you did not mind. He turned his head, kissing you all he got as he pushed a finger inside you.
You bit down on his bottom lip, trying to not moan loudly and got attention. Thankfully the movie was loud enough and a few people chose that time-slot.
“Joel.” You whispered, placing your hand on his bicep. He didn’t stop, curling his finger inside you slowly pumping in and out. You sank down your nails on his skin, biting down on your lower lip to keep yourself quiet.
You kept palming him, trying to get your revenge but he had the upper hand. Your head felt heavy as your pleasure kept building and building.
The credits started to roll on the screen, and lights were turned on again. Joel pulled out his fingers just before people started to move. You both were smiling at yourselves for not being caught.
You got up quickly, holding him by his wrist, leading him to exit. Ditched your half finished soda and popcorn back there in your seat. Your mind was still cloudy from pleasure and you wanted to get more.
He pressed you to his groin as you walked to his car, afraid someone would see his now semi-hard bulge.
He liked the way you dragged him. He liked how you held onto him. He liked how you looked over your shoulder and gave him a small smile.
He loved your smile.
You were in his car, in the parking lot. You looked around to see if there were anyone around before you got inside. You quickly kissed him, moving onto his lap again. He pushed his back, giving you a space for you to move better. His hands were holding your ass over your dress, making you grind into him through his jeans.
“Fuck, baby.” He said, his hold on your ass got tighter. “If you continue to go like this…” He admitted, sucking on the spot under your ear.
“Let me suck you off, please?” You said, battling your eyelashes.
His chest fluttered with your request, he couldn’t remember the last time someone asked him this, if anyone ever did. Now his jeans were a bit tighter and his smile was bigger.
An eyebrow raised. “You want to suck me off?” He cupped your cheek, rough thumb tracing your bottom lip.
Instead of answering him, you took his thumb into your mouth, pressing yourself further on his lap. Your crotch was right on top of his bulge, your dress was lifted around your waist.
He cursed under his breath; raising his hips to feel your damp underwear. His one hand was still on your ass, taking a fistful. He knew if you pressed on him little tighter you would definitely leave this car with his fingertip marks.
“As much as I want to see my cock stuffed in your mouth— I don’t want to do this in here.” He said taking off his thumb and replacing it with his tongue. His hand was on the back of your neck, pressing your body onto him as he kissed you with all he got. You opened your mouth to him, letting his tongue devour inside your mouth.
You placed your hands at the back of his neck, fingers curling around the dark locks there. Feeling him melt onto the kiss.
He gently placed you back on the seat, kissing your temple. Your brain functions stopped, unable to process what he had just done.
“Let me drop you off baby. It’s getting late.”
“Okay.” You said nodding quicker than you want, trying to keep your eyes to yourself and not on his erection. You could heard how devastated you sounded even you only said one simple word.
The car ride was quicker than you expected, he probably crossed the speeding limit a few times. His one hand on the wheel, the other fixing his jeans, grumbling whenever he had to slow down.
Your hands were trembling when you put your key in the hole. His large hand placed on your hip, his erection was pressed on your ass. Poking you through your thin dress.
You didn’t know if he was doing this to hide it from people or to turn you on even more. His size was effective enough for both.
You almost pushed yourself inside when the key finally turned, the darkness of your hall greeted you.
You turned on your heels, pulling him closer to you by the collar of his shirt. Not wasting any time to kiss him. He groaned into the kiss, one hand found its place on your waist as the other pushed the door closed.
You tried to think fast, whether you should take him to your bedroom or your couch was fine or not. When he broke the kiss to take a breath. Leaning his head back on the wall, eyes glued to your heavily breathing figure.
Your hands unbuckled his belt, taking it off swiftly. You broke the kiss to get on your knees but he stopped you. “Are you sure?”
You were fooled by his question. Battling your eyelashes, keeping a soft smile on your face. “Yes, Joel. I want this.” You said as you got on your knees. The landing was not as gentle as you hoped when you got on your knees, the fibers of the rug hurt your skin. Taking a note to get yourself a fluffier rug.
Your hands were trembling when they got on his pant button.
You’re not even good at a fucking blowjob.
His hands were placed on yours, stopping you from pulling it down. “Take a moment baby, ‘m not goin’ anywhere. Okay?”
You looked up into him, seeing the soft smile on his face made your heart slow down. His knuckles caressing your cheek up and down. You saw how hard he was trying to hold himself.
You nodded, taking a large breath through your nose. Pulled the jeans down quickly, seeing his angry cock right in front of you.
Telling he was big was definitely an understatement. And he was not even fully hard. Your mouth salivating when you saw how shimy his tip was with the precum a thick vein underside.
You licked your lips, taking his cock in hand. He hissed at your warm touch, guiding it to your lips. He pressed the tip on your lower lip, smearing his arousal.
You gave it a long lick, tongue following its slit. He hissed when you gave him a quick kiss. Licking and kissing along his length; getting him as wet as possible before you took him inside your mouth.
“That’s it. Good girl.” He said as you wrapped your lips around him, and your fingers were wrapped around where your mouth could not fit.
You began moving your head slowly, working your hands alongside. You relaxed your jaw as you took more of him, his tip pressing at the back of your mouth. Your gag reflex triggered when his tip hit the back of your throat. You stopped for a second to give yourself time to adjust before continuing to suck him.
He was breathing through his nose, watching you between his legs. Your left hand was brushing along his balls at every stroke. Your warm mouth around his length. He could see how hard it was for you to fit him inside your mouth. You were breathing your nose, glossy eyes and some saliva leaving your mouth. It was even harder for him to not take control, not hold your head and move his hips. His nails dug into his palm, leaving half moon shaped marks.
He could feel him getting closer and closer to cum, trying to hold it as long as it was possible, savor the moment. But you were making it hard for him when you were looking at him like that. With tears around the corner of your eyes, taking him with all you got; sucking and licking.
You felt his hot cum shoot through the back of your throat and tongue, the familiar sour taste on your taste buds. You waited for him to finish before slowly taking him outside of your mouth.
His hands cupped your cheeks, raising his eyebrows. “Open your mouth.” He said and you obeyed him. Showing his cum pooled on your tongue. “Good girl, now swallow it.” He said, his fingers brushing along your hair, fixing the loose strands and tucking them back.
You felt proud when he called you good girl. You wanted nothing more to please him. You put your tongue back inside your mouth,swallowing all of the cum; opening your mouth again to show him you swallowed.
He chuckled, kissing you after you got back on your feet. “It is my turn to return the favor.” He said, placing his hands on your dress, guiding you to your couch in a few short steps. “Leaving you high and dry is a crime, baby.” He said as he got on his knees, pulling down your underwear.
You nodded along his words, lifting your skirt to show him your bare cunt, as he got on his knees. He smiled at your state, licking his lips before he pressed his mouth on you.
He wasn’t slow or gentle, he was like a starved man who got denied from pleasure for a long time. You were already wet from the second his tip touched your tongue. His tip flicked your swollen clit, you felt like you were electrocuted with sudden pleasure.
“F-fuck! Da-Joel!” You screamed, pulling on his dark curls. Saved by a second by calling him daddy.
He stopped to speak, brushing his mouth along your pussy. His scruff was itching but somehow he made it better.
He looked into your eyes and you saw the spark in his. The corner of his mouth turned into a smirk.
He liked it.
“You wanna call me daddy?” You nodded, raising your hips to his face. “Call me daddy.” He said feeling himself get hard again, continuing to suck on your clit.
You threw your head back, pulling his curls again. “Daddy, it’s t—too m—much.” You confessed, toes curling as the orgasm built on, sweat forming on your temples. You felt your face heat up when you got close to this soon.
Was this okay?
“You gonna come for daddy? Go on, show me what my baby does so good. Coming for all over her daddy’s face.” You did as he asked, letting the pleasure take over your body.
Crying down with your release as he pushed his tongue inside, lapping up your juices. Groaning at your taste, shaking your body straight from the core.
When you came down from your release, you let go of his head. Lying down on the couch half naked in front of him with your dress around hips.
You looked like a mess.
“You look beautiful.” He said as he put back your underwear and helped you to fix your dress back.
You weren’t ready for the sudden compliment, having a hard time to process when somebody actually complimented you post-sex. “T-thank you.” He kissed your cheek.
He pulled his pants up, tucking his cock back inside his pants. Leaning down over the couch to scoop out his belt. “Uhm, the bathroom is at the end of the hall on the right. You cannot miss it.” You said as you got up from the couch, looking at how his beard was shining with your juices.
He blinked twice then got up. “Want anything to drink?” You asked as you got on your feet, pouring yourself a glass of water. “Yes, please.” He answered as he walked down your hall.
You heard the light switch in your bathroom, nodding to yourself. Your feet slowly dragging you to your open kitchen, legs still felt like a jello after your orgasm. You rested your hip on the counter taking a moment to close your eyes and process.
“You have a lovely place.” You jerked when you heard his voice. Didn’t hear his footsteps or the light switch of the bathroom.
You smiled as he came from the corner and sat down on your two person kitchen table. “Really? It’s a bit different from yours, I have plants which need water and better sunshine.” You said as you pointed your Chinese evergreen across from your couch. “I have tea, herbal tea, coffee, some white wine..”
“Just a coffee is fine.” You lifted your head to your open cupboard filled with colorful mugs and glasses, taking out a butter colored mug.
“And many colorful mugs, as I see…”
“Yeah I even had one that says ‘life is too short to use boring mugs’. Sadly my fridge and cupboards are not filled with many ingredients, it’s mostly frozen food in the fridge. I can’t cook for shit.” You opened your coffee jar, the smell of freshly grounded coffee beans surrounding the room.
He chuckled, “I can teach you, not everything maybe, but if there is something you want to learn. I'd be glad to help you.” You took out a fresh filter paper, placing it on your small machine.
You shrugged, the idea of him watching you prepare a simple coffee was already making your stomach twirl. “No, I just hate cooking. It’s more stressful when someone is watching me.” You explained as you closed the lid and flicked the switch of the machine.
“Now, you know how I felt about our first date.” His voice stood out from the grumbles of the machine.
You turned to him. Seeing him looking at you with those thick arms crossed at his chest, hair slicked back. He was a sight, and you cannot imagine him stressed even for a second. “Were you that stressed?”
“A bit. But I knew what I was doin’. I’ve lived alone for more than two decades, baby.” You nodded, remembering your first year of living alone. You had to google a lot of stuff and he didn’t even have that privilege back then.
“It hasn’t even been five years for me, so no pressure I guess.” You said as you poured his coffee. “My mum didn’t know how to cook until I was born, she says I’ll learn eventually and she is a great cook.” You handed him his mug. Sitting down on the chair across from him. “And your mum? Is she a great cook like you?”
“She was even a better cook than me. She had to feed three men. I don’t think it was easy back in the day as it seemed. There were many times that we were short on money, she mostly had to come up with stuff. I had to start working right after high school, support them for a while until it was my time to move out, then it was Tommy’s. Soon enough we came up with Miller Construction, and here we are.”
You nodded along as he explained, wondering what young Joel was like. Who did he hang out with? How did he spend his free time? Who was he dating back then?
Was he confused about his purpose in life as well?
The last one is too deep, don’t ask him that!
“I‘ve had a friend who was close with my landlady so that’s how I found the place. Then I decided to move out.”
More like a toxic ex than a friend.
“You’re lucky. It took me around three years just to find a place, but I also own my place so I guess that’s normal.”
“Kinda lucky. My landlady is a bitch to me…”
“Really?”
“She never helps me when there is something needs to be fixed. Creates a scene when I miss to pay the rent by one day. She used to snitch on me to my bo—“
You stopped yourself when you realized you almost break your rule.
Never mention your ex unless asked.
“She is not a good person basically.” You explained; raising up to place your now empty glass back to sink. Turned your back towards him to take a deep breath. Closing your eyes for a second when the familiar memory flashed in your mind.
You’d be stuck in that small place with your mum for the rest of your life without me.
“Have you thought about moving out?”
“Nope. My rent makes her tolerable, I can handle her if she gets though. I have claws too.”
“I see.” He said as he nodded along, taking a sip from his coffee. “Call me if you need my help. I’ve been told that I’m a very persuasive person.” You both chuckled at that.
He got up and placed his half empty mug next to yours. When he stood in your kitchen like that, all broad and tall, it felt like somehow he belonged there all along. In his casual fit jeans and dark green plaid flannel, holding your butter colored chubby mug, it felt like this was your casual evening.
“Living in a big city is tough for everybody.” He added, placing his hand next to your elbow on the kitchen counter. Fingers brushing up and down on your arm.
“Yeah. I will call you, if she gets on my nerves again. Maybe a fresh blood for the battle is better.”
“Yeah maybe.” He agreed. “I’d be glad to help you.” He said as he leant in, kissing you.
The kiss was small, you tasted yourself and the coffee before he took a step back. Leaning his forehead on yours, he gulped before opening his mouth.
“I really hate to say this but I better get going. Have some stuff to take care of.” He said before kissing your temple, walking back slowly as he made his way to door.
“Oh okay, let me walk you out.” You said as you followed him.
“When can I see you again? I assume your schedule is pretty tight, with the wedding and stuff.”
“Yeah it’s in less than 10 days, but I’m pretty much free. I have this dress rehearsal in two days and that’s pretty much it. That and the wedding of course.”
He nodded along as you explained. “I hope it’s not too early but I have a cabin. I’ll spend this month out there.”
You felt like your heart shattered when he said he’d be away for a month. “Oh, it seems nice.”
“It is. It’s good for relax and stuff.” There was a moment of silence, you scratched the back of your leg with your feet. Unable to form a sentence.
So was this a goodbye-goodbye? Would you be able to reach him when he is at the cabin?
“After the wedding I’d like to take you there actually. At least for a few days, I’m in between projects and usually I go there and spend some time away from the city.”
He wants you! He wants you there!
“I’ll check in with work, had some pending leave days, if I can use them…” He cut you short, already smiling like a kid with a treat when he got your answer.
“Okay, I’ll be waiting to hear from you.”
“Sure. Drive safe.”
“Will do,” He said as he gave you a kiss on the lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him back. Giving him a nice goodbye before he marched down the stairs.
He felt like he was more alive then ever when you said yes to him, mentally planning the trip and made sure to go and check the cabin before he brought you there.
You felt like your heart was beating inside your chest when you closed the door. You brought your fingers to your lips, still feeling his lips there.
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aurorawritestoescape · 3 months ago
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GOING DOWN || 3,4 k
Joel Miller x f!reader | Frankie Morales x f!reader
Summary: you have a hot boyfriend and a hot ex who’s still obsessed with you. Why not get the best of both worlds?
Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, darkish!reader, toxic!reader, boyfriend!Joel, ex who desperately wants you back!Frankie, soft!Frankie, infidelity (reader’s), praise kink, size kink, unprotected piv, creampie, handjob, m!oral, pussy eating, cum eating, f!masturbation, stalking (reader loves it), voyeurism, exhibitionism, swearing, dirty talk, pet names princesa-princess, mi amor- my love. Reader wears a dress. Pics are for the mood only, reader has no specific physical descriptions.
A/n: I have no excuse for this one. I don’t know why I look at our baby Frankie and want to do all this. I’m not sorry though, it’s hot to me and also fictional😉 the title’s inspired by the song “I’m goin’ down” by Mary J. Blige and Frankie’s special talent😏 Happy Frankie Friday, my loves!💖
Written for @burntheedges ‘s roll-a-trope challenge - my trope was Exes. Thank you for the fun event, Kate❤️ Kisses to wonderful @milla-frenchy for beta-ing this filth😘 dividers by @saradika-graphics
MASTERLIST || more Frankie - The Hoodie
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You are looking out of the window at the night street, illuminated by a few golden lights, when you feel Joel’s heavy hands on your hips and then his lips plant a kiss on your neck from behind.
“Let’s go to bed,” he mumbles, his gruff voice coated with lust.
“No, fuck me right here.”
He smiles against your neck.
“Really? Want the neighbors to see us, dirty girl?”
“Yeah. Neighbors,” you smirk, not tearing your eyes from the car parked outside your apartment building. Your ex’s Pickup.
Joel pierces you with his big stiff cock and before you start moaning like a whore, you open the window a little so you two can not only be visible, but also perfectly heard from the street. Cool autumn air hits your heated face and your nipples get hard under your thin dress.
"Oh yeah, Joel! Harder!" you cry out, reveling in the way he's dragging his huge manhood in and out your channel. You're taking it like a good girl-always wet and tight for your boyfriend's cock.
Your fingers swiftly pull down your neckline, exposing your bouncing tits to whoever might look through your window. And you're sure that someone is looking.
Not knowing about your sick game, Joel is grunting loudly, thrusting deep and hard into you, your back flush with his broad chest. He’s rubbing his stubble against your neck, then your cheek until you turn your face to him and your lips lock in a sloppy and passionate kiss, while he’s holding you close, drawing pleasure from your tight pussy.
Joel’s hand snakes under your dress and having found your naked cunt, begins swirling your clit between two thick fingers. You part from his mouth, whimpering loudly.
“Yeah, baby! Let ‘em hear what a slut you are for me. Getting fucked in front of the whole neighborhood.”
His words push you over the edge and you come on his cock, crying out from pleasure. You don’t fake it. There is no need. He is that good.
Joel follows you soon and shoots his thick warm cum into your pulsating core. When he stills and pulls out, you hastily fix your dress and grab your dog’s leash.
“I’ll walk Tom.” You kiss Joel with tongue and leave the apartment, leaking your boyfriend’s load with every move.
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When you step out into the night, you walk along the street a few meters and tie your dog to a street pole. On your legs, trembling from the hard orgasm, you saunter to your ex’s truck.
The passenger door is already open for you when you reach it and you get in, feeling cold air lap at your pussy, coated in Joel’s cum.
A pair of beautiful kicked puppy eyes greet you there and you turn slightly in your seat to see your ex better in the dark car.
Frankie’s wearing a denim shirt, dark blue jeans and his favorite baseball cap that you always hated for hiding his gorgeous curls. He looks the same as the day you left him. Maybe the bags under his eyes are darker but it could be the poor lighting at fault.
“What are you doing here, Frankie?” Your voice is soft and calm, with a pinch of sadness thrown in for his sake.
The man nervously fixes his cap and glances at you from the side, like a guilty dog. He clears his throat and lies,
“ ‘m checking on you.”
His velvety voice caresses your ear, it’s soft like everything about his character. He starts chewing on his lip while his eyes are staring into the darkness ahead of him.
“No, you’re stalking me, baby. I see your Pickup everywhere I go. Near my work last week. I spotted you at the bar today. And now you’re here… spying on me through the window.”
He proves that he watched your little show when he spreads his thighs wider and bucks his hips, unwillingly attracting your attention to his big bulge. You both are quiet for a few moments.
“I miss you,” he finally admits, turning to you. His eyes are sad and sappy and you should feel sorry, bad or at least sympathetic but the overwhelming feeling in your heart is a triumph. He’s not over you. You’re the best he’s ever had and he desperately wants you back.
You’ve been feeling elated lately when you noticed Frankie stalking you. It’s been fun playing with him and you don’t plan on stopping. You pull your brows together and coo,
“I understand, baby, but you can’t keep coming here. Joel’s a jealous type. I don’t want any problems.”
While you’re talking, Frankie’s nodding along, eyes downcast. You place your hand on his shoulder and give it a comforting squeeze. His own big paw flies to yours and after bringing it to his mouth, he presses his lips to your palm. Your heart flutters at his need for you and your pussy tingles when you remember the way his plush lips were leaving kisses all over your body weeks ago.
“Baby,” you breathe out and he looks at you, not letting go of your hand. You see tears in his eyes, not enough to spill but enough to fuel up your ego. His eyes are so pretty like that, wet lashes and glossy chocolatey irises.
“Aww, Frankie,” you coo and open your arms to him. He rushes to you as if you’re his lifeline, wrapping his big strong arms around your torso and burying his face in the crook of your neck.
You’re hugging him back, trying not to suffocate in his steel embrace and rubbing his muscular broad back. Frankie’s as big as Joel, both are much bigger than you, and warmth spreads deep in your core when his scent envelops you just like his body.
You smile when you notice him still wearing your favorite cologne.
Soon your body craves something more than just a hug so your lips part and a soft whimper escapes your mouth. You know well that your pretty noises always make him wild.
Your ex reacts immediately and you feel an open mouth kiss on your neck.
“Frankie.” Your tone is scolding yet fake and you sigh deeply, brushing his chest with your barely covered breasts. Your ex grumbles at the sensation and then whispers, his voice already strained with lust.
“I miss you so much.”
You hug him tighter and feel his hot breath on your cleavage when he leans lower to plant another kiss on your collarbone. His cap slides off his head and falls on the floor but he doesn’t care. Looking down at his beautiful dark curls you run your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails and Frankie almost roars against your chest. His arms pull you closer to him, even though your torso is already flush with his. He slightly lifts you off the seat and you tug at his hair in warning, steel in your tone.
“Put me down, Frankie.”
He listens to you like he always does but your roughness earns another loud groan from him. You smile, imagining how hard his cock must be now.
Frankie leaves soft kisses on your clothed chest, your belly and soon his head is resting on your lap, while his arms are wrapped around your hips as if he’s scared you’ll float away.
You’re stroking his head, marveling at the silky waves of his hair, shining even in the dim light, and slightly tilt your hips up when his prominent nose pokes your mound through the thin fabric of your dress. As if thinking about the same thing, Frankie breathes in full lungs of your arousal and a guttural moan vibrates against your covered pussy.
“I miss her, mi amor,” you barely hear him mumble and you sigh. Recently satiated by Joels’s pounding, your core gets reignited with sticky desire and you bite your lip, your dark gaze sliding over his sexy shoulders and his head, with his face hidden. You part your legs just slightly, letting him closer to your needy pussy.
Like a dog sniffing out his favorite treat, Frankie’s nuzzling your lap, and his lips and nose are brushing against your thighs, your lower belly, your cunt through the fabric.
You gasp when his fingers dig into your soft hips a bit too hard and he hastily relaxes his grip and looks up at you.
“Sorry, princesa.” His blown out eyes are filled with guilt and want and you give him a smile, cupping his scruffy cheek.
“It’s ok, baby, just be careful with me, ‘k? No marks.”
“Yes, yes, of course, mi amor,” he murmurs, returning his head back onto your lap.
After a couple of minutes in his arms, the fire in your core morphs into an ache and you squirm under him with impatience.
“I should go, Frankie. Joel’s gonna worry.”
“No, please,” he almost whines, hugging you tighter. “I—,” he stumbles.
“Yes, baby?”
“Can I —? Can I see her?”
He’s staring up at you and you tilt your head to the side, faking confusion.
“Who?”
He knows that you understand but you need him to say it. So he plays by your rules. Like he always does.
“Can I see your beautiful pussy?” He sits up, facing you, his huge body squeezed in between the wheel and his seat. His bulge looks even more prominent now and you gush at the thought that he must be leaking into his boxers.
“Oh, Frankie, baby, you know I have a boyfriend. I can’t.”
His pleading eyes are fixed on you as he begs,
“Please, mi amor, just a look. I miss her so much. I miss you. Please.”
With another fake sigh you glance out of the window to check the surroundings, and after finding the street empty, you turn back to him.
“Ok, just for a second. Get in the back.”
“Thank you, mi amor,” he mumbles, hurrying out of the truck.
You squeeze between the front seats and sit down, turning to Frankie as he joins you at the back of the car. Your ex impatiently grabs the hem of your dress but you stop him.
“No one should know about this, understand?”
Frankie nods eagerly, mumbling yes’s like a junkie before getting a hit of his drug and you let him lift your dress and expose your naked pussy.
Your hands clutch the dress against your waist, and your legs are pressed together but it’s evident how wet you’re - your folds shine with Joel’s cum and your slick arousal.
Frankie’s breath hitches and his broad chest expands, straining his shirt.
“Beautiful,” he praises as his hand flies to the apex of your thighs.
“Nah-ah”, you grab his big paw midair and place it on top of your thigh.
“No touching. You wanted to look, right?”
“Yeah,” Frankie halfheartedly agrees, furrowed brows showing his discontent. “Then at least open your legs, princesa. Need to see her better.”
You try to contain your excitement as you tut at your ex,
“You’re so naughty, baby.”
You slowly part your thighs wide enough for your pussy to bloom in front of his hungry eyes.
Frankie’s mouth goes slack and his gaze clouds up when he sees your glistening pussy lips, puffy clit and your inviting hole. You shift a little on the seat, leaving wetness on the leather, and when you clench your walls in anticipation, you both see a little bit of pearly white liquid slide out of your entrance.
“Is this…?” Frankie mumbles, not tearing his eyes off your recently used cunt.
“Yeah. I know you’ve been watching Joel fuck me so don’t pretend that you’re surprised. My pussy’s full of his cum,” you say with defiance and wait for his reaction.
Frankie’s softly growls and his hand on your thigh contracts into a fist.
“Shhh, big boy,” you purr, bringing your fingers to your pussy. You gather some of Joel’s seed, leaking from your hole, and spread the creamy juices over your hardened clit. You rub yourself a few times and when a soft moan escapes your lips, Frankie echoes you.
“Feels so good,” you admit and begin pleasuring yourself in front of your ex.
“Jesus— fuck,” Frankie mumbles. His eyes are obsidian, forehead glistening with sweat with a few wet curls stuck to it. With his gaze tormented and pained, he reaches down to his belt.
“What are you doing, baby?” you ask, pausing your ministrations.
Frankie freezes and replies, stumbling over his words,
“I need — need to take my dick out. It hurts.”
“Ok, Frankie.” He hastily unzips his jeans when you add, “But don’t touch it.”
Frankie groans but then sighs with relief when he pulls the waistband of his boxers down, tucks it under his balls and his cock springs free. It hits his shirt and leaves a dark wet spot.
His member is throbbing, the dark pink tip, glossy and fat, is oozing his clear need for you and you lick your lips, enticing the man even more.
Frankie follows your orders and lets his cock bob and drip pre-fuck juice all over his balls and jeans while you moan again, tracing your sopping hole.
Your ex rubs his cheek, focused on the place he desperately wants to claim with his tongue and cock and croaks after wetting his plush lips,
“Let me kiss her, mi amor.”
Bingo.
That’s what you wanted as soon as you saw him at the bar today. If you cared to admit maybe you already dreamed about it when you noticed him stalking you last week. But what’s a prize without a game? Now it feels extra special.
With a little smile, you throw off your shoe and plant your bare foot on the seat, opening your thighs wider for him.
“You gonna taste another man’s cum on my pussy? just to kiss her?”
Frankie’s eyes snap up to yours and you see his defeat, his despair, his love in their depths.
He nods silently.
“Aww, you’re so sweet,” you coo. “Ok, baby, go ahead.”
With a grunt Frankie bends down, slowly adjusting his position between your legs so it’s comfortable for you, and when his soft warm lips kiss your cold cunt, you flutter your eyes shut with a pleased mewl.
Frankie’s always been the best at pussy eating. Joel often goes down on you but it’s different. He demands your ecstasy, claims your pussy with his mouth, makes you scream when his rough tongue impatiently rubs at your clit. His movements say ‘Give me’ while he’s eating you out.
But Frankie. He’s whispering “Take it”. Take your time, take your bliss, take my lips and tongue and use them, let yourself drown in pleasure. He laps at you softly and languidly, licking your pussy like it’s the most delicate flower, the most delicious fruit.
You grab your phone out of your pocket and text Joel that you met a friend by accident and need to catch up.
Frankie doesn’t see any of it, he’s gone, fully concentrated on pleasuring your soft cunt. His hands are gently holding your thighs apart, his face buried in your pussy.
“How’s she?” you whisper, raking your fingers through his silky curls and tugging on them slightly to get his attention when he doesn’t respond right away.
“I taste him on you,” Frankie grumbles, parting from your sex, “‘m gonna get it off you.”
He returns to work, making out with your folds and sucking the other man’s cum off your clit and you already feel yourself close to unraveling.
“Yes, like that, baby. My pussy misses you.”
You feel Frankie smile against your cunt before he begins stroking your clit with his tongue again and again until you cry out his name into your hand, while your hole clamps around nothing, walls contract and release another portion of Joel’s thick load.
Trembling from the orgasm that’s rippling through your body, you watch Frankie lap at your entrance, drinking the runaway seed and your slick, prolonging your shattering climax with this depraved act.
He doesn’t stop kissing your pussy until you get overstimulated and try to close your legs.
“Did so good for me, Frankie,” you murmur through heavy breaths.
“Thank you, mi amor,” your ex gruffs, sitting up, his face blushed, the gaze hazy and drunk on you.
He’s shivering from the arousal, his engorged cock generously leaking precum, and you take mercy on the man.
You scoot closer to him, wrap your hand around his hot cock and start slowly pumping it. It’s soaked with his juices so your palm slides easily over his hard length but to make him absolutely wild you gather some slick off your cunt and rub the underside of his cock where his tip meets the shaft with your wet thumb.
Frankie moans like a needy slut and in a second the first rope of cum shoots out of his slit.
You hastily lower your head, take the head between your lips and start drinking his load as he’s feeding it to you, jerking and thrusting his hips up, while your hand is gliding over his shaft.
You swallow everything to the last drop and lick it all over, cleaning his cock and earning a jerk of overstimulation from your ex. Then you sit up, wiping your mouth curled into a satisfied smile.
“Fuck, princesa, I love you,” Frankie breathes out falling onto the backrest, his cock softening but still standing at attention. You smile at his confession and your hunger finally seems satisfied.
You begin fixing your clothes and he watches you for a few seconds before tucking his cock into his jeans and then shifting closer to you. He gets into your space and you feel his warm hand pressed to your lower back. His huge frame is looming over you and you look up into his chocolaty eyes. They seem sad again.
“I want you back, mi amor—I... I need you.”
You sigh deeply and shake your head, taking his big hand in yours.
“You know it’s over, Frankie. I’m sorry, but I’m with Joel now.”
“Why? Why can’t you be with me? Why is he better?” He asks, furrowing his brows and leaning even closer to you.
“Baby,” you whine, averting your gaze from his puppy eyes and tracing hearts on his hand. “We talked about it. He’s …he’s like whiskey, he’s rough and heady and… you’re like hot chocolate, Frankie. You’re sweet but you’re too saccharine for me.”
“I can get rough with you, princesa.”
You giggle and shake your head.
“It’s not who you are, baby. And it’s ok. Someone will love you for it one day.”
You hear him sniff before he yanks his hand away from yours.
You know you should leave, break it off once and for all but the sick, mean, greedy side of your soul wants to pull him back as soon as you have pushed him away.
“Frankie,” you purr and grab his arm as he’s about to get out of the car. A slight touch from you is all it takes to stop him and he turns to you, his eyes glossy, his expression defeated.
You get closer to him and take his face between your hands. To kiss him goodbye. To poison him more.
He falls into the kiss head first, embracing you tightly, pressing his torso to yours so close it’s difficult to breathe.
You both moan against each other’s lips and you pull on his hair with passion and possessiveness. His tongue is licking into your mouth and you’re tasting yourself, sensing a faint trace of Joel’s cum. It’s so sick and twisted that another surge of arousal burns your core.
You make out for some time until you part from his lips.
“I should go, Frankie,” you whisper, snaking out of his embrace.
Frankie’s arms fall and he nods, looking lost and inebriated. You use this moment to hastily get out of his car.
“Bye, baby,” you chirp, smiling at him, but before you close the door he wakes up from the trance and calls for you.
“I won’t stop, mi amor,” he admits with determination in his shaky voice. “I’m gonna keep coming. I need you.”
“I know,” you say with a fake sigh and close the door.
You’re walking to get Tom, feeling Frankie’s eyes on your back, and trying to calm down, you bite your lip, but the excitement overwhelms you and soon a triumphant smile spreads across your face.
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Thank you for reading!💖
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