#the slight smirk followed by the murderous eyes...i love her | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scarletriddles · 3 months ago

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Lost in the fire ˚༄ | S.R

↳ in which the team’s newest case puts your life in jeopardy, at your own accord.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

genre: angst, sprinkle of fluff

warnings: general cm gore/case discussion, fire/arson, injuries related to fire, swearing, references to religion + greek mythology, friends to…? (they’re in la-la-la-love, your honour), some possible inaccuracies (sorry!), small jemily mention because lesbian rights, hopeful ending, use of she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, second person narrative.

word count: 4.3k

a/n: my first ever fic i’m very nervy🫣i’m not expecting this to gain any sort of traction, but lmk how you find it, i suppose!

“Haley Bradstone, aged twenty-five, and Laura Kilmey, aged twenty-seven, are the most recent victims in a series of murders in Detroit, Michigan. Both victims were discovered four days apart, and only five miles away from each other, their bodies disposed of in black FIBC bulk bags that were left in trash-sites.” JJ pauses, her gaze flickering between the team, almost hesitant as her thumb circles the silver remote. But, with a clearing of her throat, she continues. “Cause of death for both victims has been ruled asphyxiation…by smoke inhalation.”

You abruptly halt toying with the frayed edges of the case file, your eyebrows shooting up and head lifting to look at her, and then also at the rest of the team - who look just as bewildered.

“Sorry, did you just say smoke inhalation?” You ask, genuine confusion weighing down your tone.

JJ nods, her expression dismayed as she eyes the two beaming faces displayed on the board. “Yes, as laid out in the case files, high levels of carbon monoxide, hydrogen cyanide and hydrogen sulphide were found in both victim’s lungs. The coroner also noted soot around the victim’s faces, and TBSA burns, all of which are synonymous with death via smoke inhalation.”

“Carbon monoxide poisoning is actually the leading cause of death in smoke inhalation - causing approximately 2,100 deaths in the U.S each year.” Spencer adds, followed by his familiar flat smile, which he usually does when he doesn’t know what to do with his face - which happens to be always.

You blink, with a slight quirk to your lips, despite the circumstances. Trust your good doctor to know just about everything.

“Were there reports of any fires around the general area?” Hotch pipes up, his face set in his usual stony expression, though his eyes betray his pensiveness.

JJ shakes her head, adjusting her stance. “No, which is what makes this stranger. The DPD reported no calls about any sort of fire on the days our victims were killed.”

“What? So our unsub just…lit a bunch of fires in plain sight?” Derek questions, with a flick of his brow, his gaze alternating between the board and the manilla folder in his grasp.

You huff, turning to face him with a slight smile, musing. “Must be one hell of a magician.”

Derek smirks in general bemusement, his dark eyes swirled with mirth, his tone light as a feather as he shifts in his scratchy office chair. “Looks like it, lil mama.”

Ever the smooth talker.

“Or, he could be using a secondary location.” Emily chimes in, her narrow-eyed gaze set firm on the file in front of her, her slender fingers fiddling with a bullet-point pen, and her lips contorted into a reflective pout.

“That’s plausible, but you’d think at least someone would notice.” Rossi adds, with a slight huff of incredulity, his calculating gaze sweeping across the entire room before him.

The two smiling faces are quickly joined by two more, both just as radiant, both just as nausea-inducing. Those poor girls.

“We don’t know for sure. But, the most recent victims join twenty-eight year old Sarah Holloway, and twenty-two year old Jessica Bailey. Who, similarly, were found four days apart, five miles away from each other and dumped in black FIBC bags, also ruled dead via asphyxiation. However, Sarah and Jessica’s dumpsites were around 14 miles away from Haley and Laura’s.” JJ purses her lips faintly, eyes still fixated on the crime scene photographs of four similar looking women who didn’t even live properly yet, robbed of the chance to, just like Poseidon robbed Medusa of her autonomy, on the marble steps of her deity’s temple. The thought alone just worsens the crease between her brows.

“four victims…why are they only just asking for our help, now?” Spencer ponders, features frozen in contemplativeness. His fingers sweep up to push his black-rimmed frames back to their previous position on the bridge of his nose.

God, you love his glasses.

JJ’s face morphs into a faint grimace, as she replies in a reluctant tone. “Unfortunately, the media managed to connect the dots on this one, they’re dubbing our unsub ‘the smoke-killer.’ But, the DPD really needs our help with this.”

You sigh, eyes trained on the gruesome imagery displayed on the silver screen. No matter how long you’ve been with the BAU, the violence never quite gets bearable for you, though you can’t bring yourself to look away - like witnessing a car-crash. You understand the psychology behind it, shock rooting the human body in place as the brain tries to comprehend that what it’s processing is real.

But, guilt still flows around in your system like the Noachian flood. Maybe, if you thought about it hard enough, you’d feel the ark bashing against your innards as it tries to navigate the brutal waves.

You suppose the violence doesn’t get easier for the team, either. Perhaps that’s what keeps you all tethered to each other, bonded. After all, the Greeks did beat the Trojans in unity - and disguised as a large, ligneous horse, but you digress.

Hotch nods, solemnly. “Alright, we can discuss further on the jet. Wheels up in 20.” And with that, he abruptly stands up, striding out of the room with a sureness in his step that only he could possess, effectively putting an end to the briefing.

The screen then goes dark, the car-crash finally being attended to. The sounds of chairs scraping across the frizzled navy carpeted floor and paper rustling bounces around the small space, as everyone heads out and into the bullpen, all but the exception of spencer, who remains seated, brooding over his manilla file as though he’s a modern day Thomas Aquinas. always thinking. You muse to yourself, though your eyebrow still raises in question nonetheless.

“Reid, you coming?” You probe gently, standing in the doorway with a faint grin. Your eyes flickering like fairy-lights all around his hunched-over frame.

Spencer startles slightly, craning his head up from the file and over to you - a rosy hue creeping up the nape of his neck from the sight of you alone. He swallows, standing up suddenly, and pushing his chair out with his hip, as he breathes out. “Uh, yea-yeah i’m…i’m coming.” He collects his things quickly, scrunching up his case file as he slings his satchel over his shoulder. Though, it doesn’t really matter, he’s already memorised it from start to finish. Eidetic memory and all.

He flashes you his signature flat smile once again, as his muddy hues rake over your appearance. You look pretty today, well he thinks you always look pretty, but today especially. Your hair swishes around your face in wisps like cotton-candy, your frame adorned in your usual grey fitted slacks, paired with a pink striped puff sleeved button down and black leather boots.

He believes you’re the personification of an angel, and with the way the abnormally-harsh office lighting is dancing around your hair in a nimbus-like manner, he’s probably right.

“C’mon then doctor genius, we have an hour long flight to catch.” Your voice rolling out with a teasing lilt, a subtle smile curled around the edges of your glossed lips.

Spencer usually loathes being referred to as a genius, namely because it’s said with such obvious sneer and condescension, like he’s an abnormal form, like he’s still that twelve-year-old high schooler. But, you never say it with thinly-veiled disgust, no, you say it with such reverence- like it’s something to be admired.

Yeah, angel.

He mirrors your smile, eyes soft and starry eyed as he follows you out of the room. “one-hour, 19 minutes and 45 seconds.” He corrects softly, always keen for specifics, his satchel smashing against his upper-thigh periodically as he walks beside you.

You huff in amusement, rolling your eyes in jest. “Right. My bad, one-hour, 19 minutes and 45 second long flight.” Your head tilts up slightly to look up at him, your irises dipped in unsubtle gaiety,

Spencer lets out a huffy laugh of his own, shaking his head in amusement. He loved when you teased him, though he’d never admit that. At least, not to you anyway.

“Oh, forgive me for being specific.” He sounds out, airily, like a dish-soap bubble crafted by small exploring hands, as he places his own ridiculously large palm on his chest in mock-offence.

“more like particular.” You reply, just as you reach your desk, in faux-annoyance, the curl of your lips betraying that fact.

Spencer puffs out another slight laugh in response, as he leans against the edge of your desk, watching you comb through it. His gaze doesn’t settle, darting around the array of trinkets and just general stuff aligning the glossy oak, including the multiple pots of bright pens - some looking vaguely like the ones he’s seen scattered around Penelope’s ‘bat-cave’ - and even a stick-figure drawing of him scribbled onto a canary yellow sticky-note, featuring overly large glasses and converse, which are more akin to clown shoes, alongside an equally as dramatised stick-figure version of Morgan, complete with a badly scrawled out six pack and huge biceps.

He feels a warmth blossom in his chest as looks over the cluttered space. It’s just so irrevocably you.

“particular or not, i still believe everything-“ He begins.

“-everything should be accurate, wherever possible” You mock affectionately, with a barely hidden smirk, still rooting through your things like a squirrel digging for an acorn.

A slight pout forms on his face, bordering on more petulant than anything. “How’d you even know I was going to say that?”

A faint effervescent giggle slips past your lips, your head still firmly pulled down, as your hands continue their wandering through your desk drawers. “ ‘Cause you’ve said that line at least a dozen times now, doc.” You drawl out, still grinning to yourself.

He wants that sound to be his morning alarm.

He rolls his eyes, only half-seriously, a smile lighting the corners of his mouth up like a vegas ‘welcome’ sign. “I have not said that a dozen times!” He huffs out, with a shake of his head at the injustice of it all, his dark curls springing with the movement.

You just smile, continuing to rifle through your desk before you locate what you were looking for, quickly straightening up and collecting the rest of your things before turning to him.

“Well, I’m all set doctor, lead the way.”

“Is that just so you don’t get lost again?” he replies, with an overt teasing twinkle.

You groan, blowing out like a whistle “that was one time! i was still new, and the hallways are confusing!”

He just bellows out a laugh, pushing up off the edge of your desk and beginning to walk - more like stride - his way to the elevators. You in tow, but just barely. His legs are way too long.

“I can put a sign on my back that says, ‘follow me’, if needs be.” He throws behind his shoulder.

“Oh, shut up!” You bark out, not really with any bite. Never with him.

It had been about three days since you landed in Detroit, Michigan. Most of that time being spent cramped up in the tiny makeshift office curated for the team, downing copious amounts of coffee, reading files until the backs of your eyes burned and dodging the borderline leering looks from the mid 40-year-old, beer gut endowed cops.

In other words, it was hell.

The team had made some progress, though. Narrowing down the profile to a white male in his early to mid thirties, who works a menial job, of average height and build, and who clearly dislikes women. Obviously, that didn’t narrow down the ‘Where’s Waldo’ search by much. But still, you really just couldn’t shake the obvious question…

Why go through all the trouble of burning these women, but not completely, just to dump their bodies?

And it seemed that question floated around the backs of everyone else’s mind, too. It was bizarre, to say the least.

Currently, the team is all stuffed in said aforementioned makeshift office space, like sardines in a can, no less. Emily and JJ sat at the table together, as usual, Derek propped up against the wall, Hotch and Rossi stood brooding in the corner of the room, quietly discussing something between themselves, leaving you and Spencer situated in front of the board, where the geographical profile is mapped out.

“He’s operating within a 20 mile radius, dumping the bodies within an area he’s comfortable in. He’s either going to strike here.” Spencer points to a spot on the map with his finger, tapping against it slightly before dragging it across and towards another spot, “or here.” His features were swamped in pondering thought, his honeyed gaze encompassing the sight in front of him.

“Yeah, but i still don’t understand why he’d go through all the trouble of burning them till they die from smoke inhalation, and then discarding the bodies. jus’ seems a lil’ pointless t’ me” Morgan drawls out, his stance wide and his arms folded, one of his hands resting on his chin.

“well ain’t that the million dollar question.” You reply, with a sigh lathered in perplexity, your arms folded in a similar manner, but with one of your hands rubbing up the side of your arm, in a absentminded fashion.

“Morgan’s right, it doesn’t make any sense.” Hotch pauses slightly, contemplating - like everybody else in the room. His dark eyebrows stitched together, and his lips set in a taut frown.

“None of it makes sense, i mean, even the dumping method, why bulk bags and not just plain ol’ trash bags?” Emily questions, sitting back in her seat with an exhale, her legs crossed with her boot-clad foot tapping against one of the legs of the rickety table.

You blink, a thought coming to you at her question. “Theres a Hardware store in the middle of town, right?” You throw out, hands stuffed into the pockets of your black slacks.

Hotch’s brows furrow, as he regards you. “Yes, why?” He says simply, almost curiously.

You shrug, “so then he’d probably be getting the bulk bags from there, since it’s easily accessible.”

Everyone goes silent at your question, seemingly mulling it over, before Morgan responds.

“If so, why wouldn’t he just buy trash bags?” He says, with a cock of his brow.

“Because he wants the victims to be found.” Spencer states, plainly, piling onto your train of thought and rocking back and forth on his heels, as his tongue darts out, swiping his slightly dry bottom lip.

“Think about it, a bulk bag is much more conspicuous than a simple trash bag, he wants his handiwork to be seen - maybe not right away, but he knows at least one person would find the presence of a large plastic bag near a dumpster to be…alarming, whereas no one would bat an eye at seeing a trash bag. Same goes for his M.O, he most likely has some sort of access to an incinerator, perhaps due to his job, which allows him to discreetly ‘burn’ his victims, before dumping them in a way which derives notice.”

His hands flail around wildly as he talks, an endearing habit that makes it seem like he’s so excited to talk about what he’s discussing that, at the minimum, one part of his body has to move with the speed of his mouth.

You smile - more of a secret thing, really, just for yourself - you love listening to that man talk. It’s the eighth wonder of the world, to you.

Everyone nods, the notion seemingly settling into their psyche without much problem, as logically, it did make sense.

“If thats the case, then we have a problem.” Rossi scratches the side of his jaw lightly, his head tilted and his bronze hues directed at the table.

Emily raises her brow, in clear need of clarification. “What problem?” She murmurs out, her head cocked to the side, questioningly.

“We have an unsub who wants attention, and will stop at nothing to get it.” Hotch adds on, sharing a brief glance with Rossi, his expression more grave than usual, before he fishes out his phone, dialling a number and setting the onyx Nokia down onto the table. “Garcia, you’re on speaker.”

“Hello, my favourite crime-fighters! To what do i owe the pleasure?” The shrill cheery voice of Penelope Garcia rings out, immediately bringing a small smile to your face. She really was like bathing in sunshine.

“We were wondering if you could take a look at a hardware store’s sales within the last month, more specifically of FIBEC bulk bags.” Hotch drags out, his arms still folded and his face betraying nothing but his usual stoicism.

“Oh, that i can do upside down with my hands tied, sir! just…one…second.” Penelope’s voice hauls out, followed by the rapid clinking of keyboard keys. “What’s the name of the store?” She asks, her tone focused.

“Sally’s Shack” Hotch replies, his tone equally levelled.

After a few moments, and a lot more keyboard clicking, Penelope finally pipes up again. “Ah-hah! so, it appears that our shack in question has sold six FIBEC bulk bags within the last month, all to the same buyer - well, at least the same credit card was used, ending in 4678.”

Hotch looks visibly taken aback slightly, before he asks “Can you get a name, Garcia?”

“Already on it, sir.” Penelope replies, with her usual peachy tone.

A tense silence follows, only sporadically broken by the clickity-clack of Penelope’s rainbow pastel keyboard. Then, she pipes up again.

“Okay…looks like the card belongs to a 33-year-old, Mr. Eugene Humphrey, who currently works at…” Her words trail off, obvious hesitance behind them “…burns funeral home and crematory, and owns a residence just in the middle of town.”

Everybody seems to pause, then. He matches the profile - Mid thirties, works a menial job which would give him access to a ‘discreet’ burning method and just so happened to purchase the same material used by the unsub, whilst also owning his own property not too far away from the hardware store in which the material was purchased…yeah that can’t be a simple coincidence.

“Pen, does he have a criminal record of any kind?” Your voice floats out, drifting through the confined space like Thumbelina on her shamrock lily-pad.

“I will have a looksie for you now, my sweet sugar muffin, just hang on one second-“ Penelope cuts herself off as her fingers begin their ministrations again, the keyboard rumbling with every tap, a smile edging on your face at the absurd term of endearment.

“Alright…looks like our guy spent six months in juvenile detention when he was sixteen for lighting his girlfriend’s car on fire, claimed he caught her cheating on him with his best friend, youch!”

You can practically see the cogs turning in your teammates heads, looks like you got your guy.

“Okay, thats good garcia, could you-“

“-send his information over? already done, sir.” promptly interrupting the low voice of your unit chief, in a way that is so Penelope, that he can’t really object.

“Thank you Garcia, We appreciate it” Hotch replies in his typical authoritative tone.

“You’re welcome, my gorgeous gods and goddesses, now go and save lives.” Penelope chirps out, swinging on her swanky desk chair, her hands now preoccupied with a bright pink fluffy pen.

“You’re the best, babygirl.” Morgan calls out, his tone suave and a smirk illuminating his features.

Penelope lets out a giggle, replying in her token-teasing articulation. “Only for you, my chocolate thunder, now ta-ta!” Her sing-songy voice sounds out with finality, before the line drops, indicating that she ended the call.

“Alright, everyone, looks like we’re scoping a funeral home. I’ll go inform the captain, and i need all of you to gear up, as a cautionary, is that clear?” Hotch demands, his gaze expectant.

resounding murmurs of “yes” fill out the area, to which the dark-haired agent replies to with a curt nod, before swiftly exiting the room.

You let out a breath, turning to the rest of the team with a faintly reluctant expression. “Let’s get this show on the road then, guys.”

Morgan flashes an easy smile, coming up behind Spencer and clapping him on the shoulder, his smooth voice infused with teasing. “You heard her, pretty boy, let’s get moving.”

Spencer has to resist an eye-roll, his cheeks immediately flushing raspberry red, whereas you just let out a small confused laugh - clearly not in on whatever inside joke that seems to be playing out - turning on your heel and prancing out of the room, leaving the two of them to squabble like 10-year-old brothers.

Though, on your way out, you swear you saw Emily squeeze JJ’s hand underneath the table…

Something went wrong. Terribly wrong.

You don’t know how - hell, nobody on the team knows how, but Humphrey somehow found out you were coming. He might’ve gotten some frustratingly accurate in-tell, or maybe he just… knew. After all, bad news attracts bad news, right? And being arrested for the murders of four women sure seems like pretty bad news. Or maybe he was a paranoid fuck. Either thought seems plausible, but currently pointless.

Ironically, Burn’s Funeral Home and Crematory, was well…burning. The two-story high foundation, which you’re guessing was once a depressing waxen colour, is now engulfed in orange. Bright, blazing orange, and for a moment, you almost believe the sun crash-landed onto earth.

The ignited shades dance across your features , making you look like you’re almost glowing. You hear Morgan let out a few curses, and Emily mutter something eerily close to “Oh my God” under her breath. But, the rest of you remain silent, devoid of speech, heads lifted up and staring at the fiery wreckage. Drawn in, entranced.

You can’t pull your eyes away, Not even when Hotch snaps out of his own silent gazing and begins to talk around you, shooting out instructions like darts to your co-workers. Well, until you hear a fire-man trudge past you, in full PPE and carrying a winding anaconda-like hose, writhing along the gravelled floor with each step he takes, similar orders being barked out of his mouth to his team-mates. But, that isn’t what grabs your attention, it’s the information coming from his radio.

A mother and her child are stuck in there, apparently looking for a casket for her husband before the building went up in flames, and they aren’t even going to attempt to save them - something about the fire being “too large, too risky.”

A mother and her child. Her 8-year-old little girl who just lost her father, and now is going to lose her own life, trapped in a scorching maze.

Not on your watch.

You will not, cannot, let this sick bastard take another girl’s life.

Your legs move before your brain even has time to catch-up, darting straight past multiple fire personnel who all try to stop you, but you dodge each one. Not even the sounds of the team shouting your name halts you, your figure retreating straight into the raging inferno.

What’s that saying? Moth to a flame?

Well, consider the molten-structure your flame. Because you won’t stop, will not stop, not until the mother and her daughter are out. Safe.

Either way, God appeared before Moses in the form of a fiery bramble. And maybe, he was doing it again, instead for their freedom, not yours or a 120-year-old man’s. You were getting them out of this desert, even if there were no miles of grainy-sand and the occasional tumbleweed, but instead hot, piercing, smouldering heat.

Spencer’s astute brain doesn’t take long to register what the hell you are doing. And, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt so panicked. He practically screeches your name, moving to go after you, but with no such luck as Morgan and Hotch hold him back. But he fights, and he fights harder than he’s ever had in his life, because this is you.

“Let me go! she’s in there! you can’t just let her go in there!” He shrieks, every word sharpened with utter desperation.

Neither Morgan’s nor Hotch’s replies to his incessant wailing actually penetrates his mind. He feels like he’s underwater, succumbing to the depths of the Mariana Trench, fading black and blue.

The water freezes over the longer you’re in there. Trapped in that dismal, enflamed formation. He feels sick, but he knows spilling his stomach content won’t provide any relief, it’s a sickness that’s lodged itself into his bones, into his very being. He wonders if this is what the Woolly Mammoths felt like during the first coming of the glacial-period, just observing as they, one-by-one, all perished to the frost.

He can’t have lost you. Not before he-

…Not before he could tell you that you’re his first thought when he wakes up, and his last before he surrenders himself to the dark abyss of unconsciousness.

No, this can’t be it. He refuses, he downright rejects the thought.

He just stares, and stares at the lit up property, his whole entity screaming for you to just make it. His mind and mouth spinning prayers to god’s he doesn’t even believe in because if there was any chance of that turning the cards in your favour, then he’s taking it and holding on tight.

The seconds feel like minutes, the minutes like hours. Time is a fickle thing, always stretching and compressing back together again depending on someone’s emotions. But, that philosophy does nothing to distract him from the ache. Because a life without you in it, he grasps, isn’t a life at all. Not one that he wants to live, anyway.

Two soot-covered frames emerge from the fiery entrance, immediately being swept away by fire-personnel for medical treatment. And his heart stops, until he realises you aren’t either of those coughing figures.

Where are you? Why aren’t you coming out?

Time seems to stretch again, expanding like a black-hole over his fitful, beating heart. Ready to consume, ravage. But, maybe, that would be an act of mercy, anything would be an act of mercy compared to the waiting. Agonising, hoping and waiting.

Then…a third figure finally bursts out of the flames. He’s seen that mop of hair before, he knows that hair. Even at a fair distance, hunched over and simultaneously gasping for air and hacking your lungs up, tousled, with skin embedded in ash, You’re beautiful and you’re alive.

You’re alive.

He pushes his body forward and he runs, he sprints and goes to you. And this time, Hotch and Morgan let him.

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lavandulawrites · 5 months ago

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The fact that there are no yandere Kinich fics/hcs is illegal. Litterly, the whole internet is all over him and no single fic/hc? R u shitting me?

Anyways, if you would be as kind as to consider this following request: yandere Kinich with a darling who is in love with someone else.

You dont have to do it if you dont want to. Have a nice day and make sure to drink enough water!

A Supporting Friend

He is truly criminally underrated</3 Fun fact my saurian is called Roberto haha

Masterlist

Warnings: stalking, Ajaw being a dick (what’s new), Kinich is delusional, murder, slight gore, Kinich is jealous, female reader

Word count: 814

A second didn’t pass without him thinking of you. His hazel eyes trains on you as you went about your day. You were so effortlessly beautiful. Like a goddess. As the dark haired man snuck in the shadows following you, he couldn’t help but feel a burning hatred whenever you looked at him. He was taller than Kinich with huge muscles and a stupid smile that never left his face.

The raven haired man hid behind a large stacks of boxes as he watched over you. God knows what could happen to you now that the Abyss were more aggressive than ever.

His annoying companion popped out of thin air with a whine. “Are you seriously still following her?” the little dragon-like creature asked with amusement.

Kinich spared him not even a single glance as he continued to let his eyes watch you.

“Jeez, ya are seriously fucked in the head, aren’t ya?” the little gremlin laughed. “Just face it, she doesn’t like you. Just like everyone else, so why don’t you just trip and die?” Ajaw snickered like the little devil he was.

“Shut up” Kinich sneered as he looked Ajaw away which resulted in multiple cursers following.

Of course Kinich knew your heart didn’t belong his, at least not yet. Your eyes were sat on that disgusting fool of a man. It was a pity and made Kinch’s skin crawl.

Days passed and you continued to see Kinich as only a friend. A friend which you told all your secrets and asked for help with various matters. Normally the young man would be over the moon with being so close to you, but not when you continued to rant about him.

“Roberto looked at me today. He even smiled! Do you think he likes me Kinich?” you asked him as you looked off in the distance with a longing gaze.

Oh if only you knew how much he loved you, how his heart fluttered in his chest when you looked at him. When you smiled it was like the Celestia had granted their blessing. Still, he chose to hold his tongue and only hum at your question. “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him” he answered with a strained voice. As he watched the red flowers that littered the meadow in front of them, he couldn’t help but imagine how Roberto’s blood would look against the lush grass.

“I want to ask him on a date” you interrupted his trained of thought. “Tomorrow” you turned to look at him with a huge smile. A bale blush dusted your cheeks as you thought about your crush.

Kinich’s heart quickened at the cute display of your blush. If only he was the one to make you blush. “Oh really?” he mumbled.

“Yeah. I want it to be perfect though. I am thinking in the field with flowers in the forest near my house. It’s the perfect spot. Really romantic.

“Indeed. Romantic” the words akin a sneer.

The next day the ancient name bearer jumped from tree to tree as he stalked Roberto on his way to hunt. The robust man was busy adjusting his crossbow, completely unaware to his surroundings. Kinich scoffed at his obliviousness and he couldn’t help the smirk that crept upon his lips.

He leapt down on the grown as silent as a feather as he crawled towards the man. His claymore already in his hand.

Quicker than a heartbeat he jumped up from the bush and ran towards Roberto.

Roberto screamed as he picked up his crossbow. Unfortunately for him, the weapon were not loaded and completely useless.

“What do you want?!” he screamed as he backed away with quick steps.

The hazel eyed man remained silent as he stalked closer and closer towards him.

With wide eyes Roberto turned on his heel and ran.

The case was as thrilling as Kinich had expected. Given his massive body, Roberto was rather slow compared to the shorter man. Stupid too.

It didn’t take long before Roberto had stopped at the end of the cliff. He was trapped between the blood thirsty man and the high fall. Neither he would survive.

Kinich had become tired of the little hunt so he leaped forward and missed Roberto’s chest by a mere centimetre. Which resulted in Roberto falling to his death with a high pitched scream that suited more a little girl than a 190 cm man.

Kinich peered over the cliff and down on the stony ground. Roberto’s body was no more than a red mass that looked like spaghetti given how he had landed on multiple sharp rocks. A satisfied smile tugged on Kinich’s lips.

Now he had to play the role of a comforting friend and hold you in his arms as you sobbed over your deceased crush. His smiled widened uncharacteristically at the thought of you finally being his.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere kinich #yandere kinich x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kinich x reader #kinich #genshin #genshin impact #male yandere #yandere male x reader #yandere male

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oncloudten · 2 years ago

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if he's a serial killer, then what's the worst that could happen to a girl who's already hurt?

ethan landry x fem!reader. scream 6 spoilers. cw: choking, mentions of sex, murder, slight dirty talk.

read part ii. here

"get the fuck off me, you sick fuck!" you managed to get out, barely breathing.

he had you completely fooled. the boy with the puppy dog eyes and the sweetest smile. every horror film has a sweet little dorky cliche virgin, and he chose to embody that role perfectly. ethan landry.

though, the virgin part wouldn't be true. and you have yourself to thank for that.

who would have thought? well, maybe mindy. oh god. she'll kill you for this– if they don't first. if he doesn't.

all those nights you spent with ethan, all those days. everytime you'd tell tara and mindy about him and your massive crush on him, and then eventually the friends-with-benefits thing you had going on, she'd try to offer you her enthusiasm and be the supportive best-friend that she usually is to you, but it would always be followed by heartfelt speeches of her telling you to "be careful" and that she doesn't trust him. she never did like him from the start.

but you weren't worried about mindy right now, you couldn't. not when ethan had such a tight grip around your neck, and your friends were somewhere in this building being chased by his family.

"hmm? i thought you liked it when i did this, princess." ethan smirks, trailing his knife on your cheeks.

asshole. of course he'd say that. because why wouldn't he? he knew everything about you. you had given yourself to him completely– in every way. something so private being used against you– someone so... wicked knowing such intimate and delicate things about you, that no one else does. you can't process anything. "t-that means nothing."

he let go of your neck, but only slightly to stop choking you. he's towering over you, pushing you up against a wall. "didn't seem like that a few nights ago when you were begging for it, you dirty fucking slut."

"fuck you."

"oh, i'd love to. but i got my hands bloody full right now. oh and, been there, done that." he says, proudly. there is something so sinister about his smile. his killer smile. "come on, you sweet dumb thing. lighten up a bit, won't you? you look like you've seen a ghost."

"if you're going to kill me, just fucking do it. why the fuck bring me here? kill me and get it over with." there's no telling what he's going to do. he has you completely isolated from sam and tara. and chad is gone— you found ethan when you were forcibly seperated when ghostface showed up, and it immediately clicked.

"oh no no no no no, you sweet pretty thing. i love sticking things in you, but i would never stick a knife in you. never hurt you. well, i mean, kill you. it's your friends that we're after." he pauses for a bit. "well that wouldn't be right to say either. it is sam and tara that we want," he inches closer to you, "but it just feels so fucking good to kill. so fucking good baby."

"you're sick."

"and you love me. isn't that what you were telling mindy and quinn a few weeks ago? hmm?"

fuck. what are the fucking chances of that wicked witch being his literal fucking sister? "that was before i found out you are the one who is actively trying to kill my best fucking friends, you dimwitted fucking asshole!"

he lets out a low chuckle. "if it makes you feel any better. you're the closest thing i'll ever get to love in this world. i do love you. well, god, did i love fucking you. y'gave me the best sex of my life. but it was more than that."

"stop. just stop. let me go." you beg, "let me go please, ethan. i'll just go- just my friends, my- chad, please."

"i can't do that, angel. my job is to keep you away from them. protect you, even. see, my lovely sister thought it'd be funny to kill you. claims you're just baggage. that it would hurt sam and tara the most because you're practically the closest thing they have to family. but i can't let that happen. so this is the next best thing."

and then all you see is black.

#scream 6 #scream 6 smut #scream 6 spoilers #ethan landry #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine #jack champion #smut

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latenightdaydreams · 4 months ago

Note

Hello! I love your writing !!!

Sooooo I wanted to make an ask

How about the place where the reader works is destroyed and the people killed by könig (and his men) because the company must've done something wrong/ helped könig's enemy

He finds the reader different from the others he murdered (she fights for what she thinks is right instead of bowing down for money or anything you want). And so he pulls the reader out from her hiding spot and snatches her from the world.

He would treat her like a little pet (maybe even collar). Reader would definitely try to fight back.

Maybe even plan an escape and get punished by könig :)

Thxx

Keep up the good work, baby!!!!

Hello!! Thank you!!😘

Mafia!König x Pet!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, non-con, oral, p in v, mention of blood, mention of violence

1.2k word count

It’s as if you can remember the day that you met König like it just happened. While you were sitting in your cubicle, you heard a loud agonizing scream echo from beyond the large glass doors that lead to the CEO’s office. You, along with other coworkers, poke your heads up to look towards the doors; exchanging glances of confusion.

There had been a rumor around the office that the CEO’s ‘raises’ were actually shady dealings with the local mafia. He had started to act erratically over the last few weeks, making the unknown scarier. Then the loud pop of a gun discharging rang out, causing mass panic.

As everyone around you screamed and tried to flee, armed men dressed in all black filed into the officer area. Bodies began to drop left and right as chaos broke out. You slipped down and crawled across the floor to not be seen as you made your way to your friend’s desk. The fear in her eyes made you feel helpless.

Without words, you crawled underneath the desk with her and sit; holding her hand as you comforted one another. The next few moments were a blur, but you can recall your white shirt stained red with your friend’s blood and a man pulling you out of your hiding spot. You spat in his face, cursing him while you flailed like a wild animal.

After hours of interrogation, you never broke. No matter how much wealth or power he offered, you never broke. König did consider killing you, but your defiance and adorable angry mug mad him change his mind. In your opinion, death would have been a kinder ending than life the way it is right now.

“Komm her. Sit on my lap.” König speaks softly to you as you kneel before him wearing only a shiny golden collar around your neck.

You stand and approach him cautiously as your eyes roan his face. Without his mask, his face is hard to look at with his upper lip is deformed from a large gash that covers the right side. As you try to distract yourself, you look down at his lap noticing the large erection pressing an outline against his black slacks.

Against his body you’re small; nothing. He loves the size difference. It adds to the feeling of power that he already holds over you. As you sit, he moves his hands to your hips and squeezes tightly. He rocks you back and forth along his hard cock as he lets out a soft sigh.

“Did you miss me while I was at work, Kätzchen?”

“Yes…” You say in a low tone, unconvincingly.

“I said…” König grabs your chin and forces you to face him. “Did you miss me?”

“Yes, master.” The dangerous look in his icy eyes makes you submit.

“Good girl.” He whispers as he continues to grind you into him. “Get my cock out.”

“Yes, master.”

You stand from his lap and turn to kneel in front of him, your knees bruised and borderline bloody from kneeling constantly. His eyes follow your hands as you move to his belt, unfastening it before unzipping his pants. A low sigh of relief leaves König as your warm small hand wraps around his fat cock and slips it out. The strong smell of his musk after a long day of sweating hits your nose.

“Ah, there you go.” He smirks at you as you look at his face with slight disgust. “Go on, play with it.”

You look at him before down at his cock. The bright pink tip being hugged by his foreskin as a bead of precum slowly drips down the side. You wrap your hand around him, pulling the tight foreskin down as you lean forward and lick the small bead. Its taste is bitter on your tongue, mixed with the tangy taste of his sweaty cock causes you to gag slightly.

König grins as he takes joy in your disgust and discomfort. He reaches out with one hand and pushes your head down further onto his cock. Your soft lips stretch around him uncomfortably as you gag slightly. As he continues to push your head down you try to resist, but it’s no use because he is so much stronger than you. The feeling of your tongue wiggle along his shaft as he shoves himself into your tight throat pulls a moan from him.

“Look at me.” His voice is slightly raspy as he speaks.

Your watery eyes gaze up at him, strained red as you gag and struggle to get any air. His eyes are filled with deviant lust, always making you feel even more shameful for doing this sexual act. You dig your fingers into his muscular thighs, dragging down the fabric of his pants. The lack of air is beginning to get to be too much and you need a break.

Finally, König pulls your head up by your hair. Thick globs of spit fall on to his lap, strings of spit still connecting you to his cock as you gasp for air. Pretty little tears stain your cheeks as you look at him.

“That was good, longer than last time.” He comments as he strokes his cock. “Come sit.”

You stand and turn, facing away from him to mount his cock. He stops you, forcing you to face him. His hands slip down to your hips, guiding you to him. Your hands rest on his chest as you balance yourself, feeling the head of his cock press against the entrance of your cunt.

“Tell me you want it.”

“I want your cock…”

“Louder! Mean it!” König slaps your ass harshly.

“I want your cock!” You cry out, your ass stinging from the slap.

König bucks up into you, a loud moan leaving your lips as you dig your nails into his chest. No matter how many times he has you, you never can get used to the size of his cock. He holds you by your hips, forcing you down completely to make sure he shoves every inch of himself inside of you.

He effortlessly lifts you before slamming you back down harshly onto him. You squeeze your eyes shut as another loud pained moan slips from you. Those little sounds you make only encourage him to continue, you sound so pitiful.

“Who owns you?”

“Y- you do.”

“That’s fucking right.” König slaps you across the face, leaving an instant deep red mark. He slouches his body down and grabs your ass, slamming up into harder. The sound of his muscular body hitting your supple flesh echoes throughout his room.

Down stairs, his guards look at each other and smirk as they listen to him mercilessly fuck you. One of them holds a folder full of transcripts he pulled from the phone records. Your transcripts. He climbs the stairs and knocks on the door, interrupting the both of you.

In anger, König stands; dropping you to the ground as he puts his cock back in his pants. He marches to the door, getting ready to tear into whoever dares interrupt him when he’s playing with his pet. He swings the door open; you lay on the floor naked, looking at the door.

“What?!”

“Sorry sir, but I think this is more important.” He hands König the manilla folder.

König snatches it, opening the folder. His eyes quickly scan over the documents in silence, taking in everything that he is seeing before him. You’ve been making calls, trying to find a connection to your old boss’s security team and family back home. Without a word, he slams the door shut and turns his gaze to yours. If looks could kill, you’d be dead.

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maxiscoolongg · 1 year ago

Text

"NEVER FUCKING TOUCH HIM."

—{★}—

PATRICK HOCKSETTER X FEM!LATNIA READER X HENRY BOWERS

WARNINGS: kinda yandere?, I'm not Latina or anything so I will be using Google translate for some stuff!, angry scared reader, swearing, Patrick being patrick, mention of murder?,

Summary: Y/N found a haunted house that she thought would be fun with her two lovers but only to be even more scared then ever

—{}—

You were the complete opposite of the two boys you so very loved for. You, a sweet, caring, loving, beautiful, angelic, person. Was with Henry Bowers and Patrick Hocksetter? It was a weird mix that's for sure, maybe Patrick and Henry weren't, but you + them? Shook the whole school

You are the popular girl, the one who is on the cheer team and everyone is probably jealous of. Your little brother Richie Tozier? He never told you about the bullying he got from Bowers gang, mostly from Henry and Patrick, they practically threatened him and the losers club to shut their mouths and not tell you

Richie, is and still is protective. No kiddin' though, he's been through alot still being a 13 year old? This kid is tough. You looked up to him even though he was younger, he was your little brother and still very much you loved him. If you found out what's been happening to him and his little club? You would kill the bullies yourself!

—{★}—

You were looking at your mirror in your locker fixing every detail possible, the boys who stood behind you leaning on the other lockers were confused, you were perfect! How could you possibly need to fix anything? Any detail they thought it was beautiful. It never made sense to them.

You smiled looking at yourself happily as you turned around closing your locker and locking it before looking up at the two boys with a smile. "Okay, so I was thinking-" you said before getting cut off immediately "No." Henry said as you frowned as you three walked "I didn't even finsh the damn sentence!" You said with a slight pout as he smiled a bit "anyway! I was thinking of going to a haunted house this week! You know? It'll be fun" you said shrugging with a now smile bright as ever, not noticing the grin that perked on Patrick's face as he looked at Henry with a 'Please' type of look.

Henry could easily say 'No, that's to childish' but, both if them could see the way you would look scared. It would practically send them off a rampage of.. well, you know. So they both agreed in their own way "Sure, but you owe us, dollface" patrick said as he put his arm around your shoulder you made a confused face but shook that off.

—{★}—

To say this was what they expected was completely right. They saw the way your eyes flashed in anger and sacredness as a clown jump scare popped up normally screaming; Santo hijo de puta. They both saw it and it to say the least turned them on in a way,

Seeing you scared and clinging on Patrick's arm? Fucking hell he would go crazy, definitely grinning from ear to ear. Not in a sweat way btw. Hug Henry on accident? He will absolutely smirk a little as he would mock you a bit

Your fear of (__) would fucking go crazy if it was in there, your scared of clowns? Watch your back bb, there's gonna scare the living shit outta you

—{★}—

"Santo hijo de puta!" You yelled in fear as you jumped a bit from the jumpscare infront of you as you turned a corner them following you "What? You scared" patrick asked as I frowned "Take a guess" you said as patrick put his arms around your waist "It ain't that scary just a little jumpscare!" He said as you sighed

—{★}—

—{I HOPE THIS WAS GOOD}—{MY FRIEND REQUESTED THIS SO I HOPE YOU LIKE IT POOKS<3}{wattpad: tatesslvtxo}

#henry bowers #patrick hocksetter x reader #henry bowers x reader #polyamory #it 2017 #richie tozier #losers club #bowers gang #imagine

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butterfly-lies-chase-them-away · 2 months ago

Text

Mamacita - Lee Taeyong x Reader

Now Playing: » Mamacita « Chase Atlantic 0:52 ─〇───── 3:22 ⇄ ◃◃ II ▹▹ ↻

Pairing: Mafia Leader!Taeyong x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 18,903 Total Word Count: 59,819 Part 1 of 3 - (Part 2) (Part 3)

Playlist Masterlist NCT Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ MDI, (Oh Boy), MAFIA, SMUT (unprotected, p in v, spitting, switch, choking, other's I can't remember), Minor Angst (good ending), Sexual Arrangement (Kinda FwB), Drug Abuse, Forced Drug Abuse, Overdose (survives), Attempted Murder, Sex while Intoxicated, Toxic Relationship(?), Commitment Issues, Manipulative Behaviour, Guns, Implied Age Gap

Summary: 🎵 That's my mamacita, yeah (mamacita) I won't ever leave her, yeah (yeah, yeah) Mama, I might keep her, might keep her I don't love her, but I need her, yeah 🎵 or What happens when a firey girl catches the eyes of a mafia leader

A/N: This is the first part of my 19 part NCT Song Fic Series. I had an idea for a Mamacita fic for ages now, just didn't know who to write the fic for, and Taeyong felt most fitting, The BOSS era of Taeyong just holds this power, ya know? I will admit, this fic is a bit messy with how I started with the intentions of it being the 1920s, but I got distracted and went off course, so the time setting...whatever you want

The smoke-filled air of the jazz club swirled in slow, lazy circles, mixing with the dim lighting that cast long shadows across the room. It was the kind of place where secrets were whispered over glasses of gin and deals were made with silent nods.

Lee Taeyong sat back in his booth, surveying the room. He was a man of precision, control, and power, a Mafia leader with a reputation that stretched far beyond the city’s limits. His cold gaze flickered over the crowd, his presence alone commanding the respect of everyone in the room.

Next to him, Johnny sat in relaxed silence, his broad frame casually taking up space yet holding an undeniable tension, like a spring waiting to snap. He shifted slightly, his fingers wrapped loosely around a glass, but his attention was always a half-step ahead.

Even in his apparent calm, Johnny’s eyes scanned the room constantly, watching each movement, reading the atmosphere, and noting any shift in energy.

He wasn’t just company, he was a shadow, a shield, Taeyong’s right hand man. The slight twitch of Johnny’s fingers or the subtle tilt of his head was all it ever took to send someone backing away, knowing instinctively not to cross a line.

In the haze of cigar smoke and the slow, sultry notes of the trumpet from the band, she appeared. A girl with an effortless grace, a fur tippet draped elegantly over her shoulders and a silk dress that clung to her curves as it fell to her calves.

She moved with a confidence that turned heads, her stride bold, unbothered by the eyes following her every move as she crossed the floor like she owned it, an intoxicating presence that demanded attention.

Taeyong's eyes narrowed slightly, intrigued. He watched as she reached the bar, her fingertips brushing the countertop as she slid onto a stool. It didn’t take long for a man to make his move, a tall, smug-looking guy who approached her with the confidence of someone who thought he had a chance. The man leaned in, grinning as he offered her a drink.

Without a word, she lifted her hand, palm out, gracefully rejecting him. Her expression didn't change, no smile, no irritation, just a calm, decisive dismissal. The man stammered, taken aback, before slinking away, embarrassed.

Taeyong’s lips curled into a smirk. This girl wasn’t like the others, easily swayed by attention or drinks. She had a control about her, a sense of power that intrigued him. He glanced at Johnny, who raised an eyebrow, sensing Taeyong's interest.

“This is going to be fun,” Taeyong thought, his smirk deepening. This wasn't just about attraction anymore, it was about the thrill of a challenge. He liked a challenge, and this girl had just presented herself as one.

With a subtle nod to Johnny, Taeyong stood, adjusting the cuffs of his suit jacket. He moved towards the bar, his steps calculated, his gaze fixed on her as if he’d already won the game. He knew he stood out, a man like him always did, but he wasn’t concerned with the usual attention. His focus was on her. She was beautiful, but it was the mystery behind her eyes that drew him in.

He had no idea she was already one step ahead, waiting for him to take the bait.

She was sitting at the bar now, laughing softly at something one of the men beside her had said. But her eyes flickered, sharp and calculating beneath her playful exterior. The energy she radiated was magnetic, a dangerous kind of allure. As Taeyong approached, her gaze shifted, meeting his with a spark of interest, though she masked it quickly behind an easy, almost indifferent smile.

Without a word, Taeyong slid into the seat beside her, his presence commanding even in its silence. He flagged down the bartender with a flick of his wrist, ordering a glass of whiskey for himself, his voice smooth but firm. Turning slightly toward her, he nodded toward the bar.

“Order whatever you want,” he said, his tone calm, but the underlying authority in his voice left little room for argument.

She tilted her head slightly, studying him for a moment, her lips curling into a half-smile. There was something about him, his quiet intensity, the way he didn’t try too hard like the others. He wasn’t the type to beg for her attention, and that intrigued her, even if her reasons for liking him were far from innocent.

“I'm good,” she replied casually, waving off the offer.

Her eyes flickered toward his, a hint of challenge in them. She wasn't the kind of woman who needed a man to buy her drinks, and she certainly wasn’t going to fall into that cliché.

Taeyong’s eyes didn’t waver. He leaned forward slightly, his gaze steady on her, unbothered by her initial refusal. “I insist.”

She laughed softly, the sound playful but guarded. Her fingers drummed lightly on the counter as she considered him. Men like Taeyong were usually so easy to manipulate, but this one…he was different. He didn’t fawn over her, didn’t push, just presented the offer as if it were a mere formality. There was power in that, and it piqued her interest even more.

“You really want to buy me a drink, don’t you?” she teased, a playful glint in her eyes.

“I know what I want,” he said simply, his voice low and calm. “I think you do, too.”

Her smile widened, but this time there was something darker behind it. She saw an opportunity with him, one she could exploit. She didn’t need his money, but there was something far more valuable she could take from him. He was strong, confident, and clearly powerful, but every man had his weaknesses. She’d find his soon enough.

“Fine,” she relented, her voice dripping with false casualness. “I’ll have a gin and tonic.”

Taeyong signalled to the bartender before turning back to her, his eyes gleaming with subtle amusement. He leaned back in his seat slightly, letting the moment stretch just long enough to keep her guessing.

“I didn’t catch your name,” he said smoothly.

She tilted her head, a faint smirk playing on her lips. “I didn’t offer it,” she replied, her voice light, teasing. “But since you’re asking…it’s Y/n.”

“Y/n,” Taeyong repeated as if testing the weight of her name on his tongue. “I’m Taeyong.”

“Nice to meet you, Taeyong,” she said casually, though her gaze lingered on him for a beat longer as if assessing how much she could get from this encounter. “So, what does someone like you do for fun?”

Taeyong smirked, resting his elbow on the back of his seat, his fingers tapping lightly against the leather. “Fun’s not exactly something I have a lot of time for.”

“Shame,” she said, swirling the drink as it was placed in front of her. “A man like you should know how to enjoy himself.”

“I find ways,” he responded, his voice low, laced with a challenge that matched her own.

He was curious now, what she was really after, how much she thought she could push. But at the same time, he couldn’t deny the pull she had over him, something magnetic in the way she seemed to both invite and deflect his attention all at once.

Y/n took a slow sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving his. “Well, maybe tonight you’ll have some time to indulge,” she said, her tone hinting at far more than the drink in her hand.

Taeyong smiled, satisfied. As the bartender poured her drink, she looked back at him, her eyes flashing with a mix of curiosity and something else, something predatory. He might think he was in control, but she was already planning how to bend him to her will.

To her, he was just another man. One she could use, one she could leave broken when she was done. But for now, she’d play along, letting him believe this was a game they were both equally invested in.

As she raised her glass to her lips, Taeyong leaned back in his seat, watching her with quiet fascination, completely unaware of the danger that lay beneath her charming exterior.

“So,” he began, his voice low but firm, “what brings you here tonight?”

She raised an eyebrow, the corners of her lips curling into a teasing smile. “Same thing that brings everyone to places like this, I suppose. A little fun, a little escape.”

She swirled the gin and tonic in her glass before taking a sip, her eyes gleaming with a playful spark. “What about you? You don’t strike me as someone who needs an escape.”

Taeyong chuckled softly, a sound that barely escaped his throat. “Maybe I don’t. But sometimes it’s nice to step away from…business.” He glanced around the bar, noting the crowd, before his gaze returned to her. “This place is good.”

Her smile deepened, and she rested her chin on her hand, looking at him with an almost cat-like curiosity. “Good, huh? And what makes you say that?”

Taeyong’s eyes flickered over her, taking in her confidence, her ease in the space, but also the sharpness behind it all. “I’d say you have something to do with it.”

Her laugh was soft but not entirely warm, a touch of something more dangerous behind it. “You don’t waste time, do you?”

“Time’s valuable. No point in wasting it.”

She studied him for a moment, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. “So, what do you do then, if time’s so valuable? Something tells me you’re not just some regular guy out for a drink.”

He gave her a half-smile, his expression unreadable. “You’re not wrong. But I’m guessing you don’t care much for the details.”

She shrugged, leaning back in her seat. “Details can be fun sometimes. Depends on what they’re hiding.”

Taeyong watched her closely, intrigued by how easily she navigated the conversation, always keeping things just out of reach, never revealing too much. She was smart, quick on her feet, and something about her kept him on edge in a way he wasn’t used to.

“And what about you?” he asked, his tone steady but probing. “You seem to know how to handle yourself.”

Her smile turned into something more sly, her eyes narrowing slightly. “I’ve had a lot of practice,” she said lightly, but there was an edge to her voice. “But I’d say you’re different too. Not like most men who approach me.”

Taeyong leaned forward slightly, his gaze hardening, though his voice remained calm. “You say that like you’ve figured me out.”

“Maybe I have,” she said, swirling her drink again before taking another sip. “You’re confident, sure of yourself. You like control, but you’re used to people falling in line without you having to ask. I’d bet most don’t even try to challenge you.”

Taeyong’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes. He was used to being in control, used to reading others, but she was different. She seemed to see through the layers he kept carefully guarded.

“And what if you’re wrong?” he asked, his voice soft but with a quiet intensity.

She met his gaze without flinching, her smile still playing on her lips. “I’m not.”

They stared at each other for a moment, the tension between them thickening, though it was layered with something unspoken, a game they were both playing but for very different reasons.

He was captivated by her, drawn to her in a way that felt dangerous but exciting. But she…she was already plotting. She saw an opportunity to control him, to pull him into her world and twist him around her finger. She’d done it before, and she would do it again.

But for now, she’d play along, letting him think he had the upper hand. Letting him believe that this was his game, when really, it had been hers all along.

Taeyong swirled the amber liquid in his glass, watching her closely. The way she moved, the way she carried herself, it was intoxicating. There was something about her that stood out from the crowd of women who usually tried to catch his attention.

“You’re not like other girls,” he said, the words slipping out before he could think twice.

She raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “What makes you think I’m different from any other girl?”

He faltered for a second, caught off guard by her response. He hadn’t expected her to challenge him like that, to turn his words on him so easily. His mind raced for something to say, but the usual smoothness wasn’t there, and he found himself at a rare loss.

“Well, I mean–” he began, but she cut him off with a light, almost amused laugh.

“You obviously don’t talk to many women, if you thought that would flatter me, you are mistaken,” she teased, her voice dripping with playful mockery as she sipped her drink. “That line might work on someone else, but you’ll have to do better than that with me.”

He felt a surge of something unfamiliar, was it frustration? No, it was more than that. He wasn’t used to being put on the back foot, wasn’t used to someone turning the tables so quickly. But the challenge only made him more intrigued.

“I’m not trying to use lines,” he said, recovering quickly, his voice steady again. “Just telling you what I see.”

Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she tilted her head slightly. “And what exactly do you see?”

He leaned forward, locking eyes with her, refusing to back down from her challenge this time. “I see someone who knows exactly what she wants. And isn’t afraid to take it.”

"Maybe you're right about that.” Her smile widened, but there was something sharp behind it. “So,” she said, breaking the silence, her voice soft but laced with mischief, “what’s the next step for a man like you?”

Taeyong smirked, leaning back again, his fingers resting lightly on his glass. “That depends. You up for a challenge?”

Her eyes gleamed as she raised her glass. “Always.”

Taeyong watched her closely, the intensity in his gaze never wavering as he contemplated his next move. He could feel the tug-of-war between them, both of them playing a game neither was fully willing to reveal just yet.

He set his glass down with a quiet thud, leaning forward slightly, his voice dropping to a low, velvety tone. “Why don’t we get out of here? I’ve got the best room in town. Private. Somewhere we can...talk more.”

Her lips quirked up into a knowing smile, eyes sparkling with intrigue. She cocked her head, feigning consideration, though her next move was already decided. “A hotel, huh? And what makes you think I’d go with you?”

Taeyong’s smirk deepened, sensing her challenge. “Because you came here for fun, right?” He paused, letting his words linger between them, watching her reaction carefully. “And I can promise, it won’t be boring.”

She eyed him for a moment, tapping her fingers rhythmically against her glass. Her usual tactics were to keep men like Taeyong guessing, but she couldn’t deny that there was something about him that drew her in, a rare mix of power and allure.

She leaned back, lifting her glass in a casual motion, giving him a lingering look. “Alright. Let’s see what this hotel of yours is all about.”

Taeyong signalled to the bartender, throwing some bills on the counter as he stood up. She watched as he extended a hand toward her, his eyes never leaving hers. A sense of control hung in the air between them, but neither was willing to fully submit just yet.

As she placed her hand in his, she couldn’t help but smile to herself. This would be fun.

Taeyong placed his hand gently on her lower back, guiding her through the dimly lit club with an air of authority that radiated from him effortlessly. The haze of smoke and the hum of conversations faded as they approached the exit, her heels clicking on the polished floor while his steps remained deliberate and calm.

Before they reached the door, Taeyong glanced to the side, his voice low but firm. "Johnny."

Johnny, who had been keeping a discreet eye on everything from a distance, moved swiftly toward them. His tall frame emerged from the shadows, his expression unreadable as he approached, nodding in acknowledgment. No words were needed between the two, Johnny knew exactly what his boss required.

With a subtle motion of his head, Taeyong led her outside, the cool night air hitting them as they stepped into the quiet street. The car was already waiting under the dim streetlights, the vehicle as polished and intimidating as the man beside her.

Johnny walked ahead, opening the car door, and slipping into the driver’s seat without a sound. Taeyong held the back door open for her, his hand still resting on her back as he ushered her inside. She slid in smoothly, the seat cold against her skin, though the tension between them kept the air warm.

Taeyong followed her in, closing the door behind him with a soft click. Johnny didn’t hesitate as he started the engine, pulling away from the club and heading toward their destination. The car purred through the city streets, the world outside passing in a blur of streetlights and shadows.

In the back seat, Taeyong’s hand casually rested on his knee, his posture relaxed yet commanding, as he glanced at her. She returned his gaze, the flicker of a smirk dancing on her lips. The game was still on, neither of them ready to let their guard down.

Johnny drove in silence, the quiet hum of the car's engine filling the space between them.

The car pulled up smoothly in front of an exclusive hotel, its towering building glowing softly against the dark sky. The doorman stepped forward, nodding politely as Johnny brought the vehicle to a stop. Taeyong’s hand had never left the small of her back, his touch steady and deliberate as he gestured for her to exit.

She glanced up at the luxurious hotel, her expression calm, but inside, she noted every detail, how quiet it was, how the staff responded to him with subtle deference, as if they already knew who he was. Taeyong opened the door for her, stepping out first before offering his hand. She took it with a delicate grip, her smile smooth as she stepped onto the curb.

Johnny remained behind the wheel, watching from the driver’s seat as Taeyong led her inside. The grand entrance was all marble and chandeliers, the air inside cool and fragrant with the scent of expensive cologne. They didn’t stop at the front desk, Taeyong didn’t need to.

With his hand still gently guiding her, they headed toward the private elevator at the back, its ornate brass doors gleaming under the dim lighting. The intricate design of vines and roses etched into the metal gave it a sense of grandeur, and as they approached, the bellman in his crisp uniform tipped his hat before manually sliding the door open for them.

He pressed the keypad, and the elevator hummed to life, the numbers blinking as they ascended. She leaned back against the elevator wall, the gleam of the metal reflecting her calm yet curious expression. Taeyong remained poised, his eyes on her, studying her as if he were still trying to unravel the mystery she presented.

The silence between them was thick with anticipation, both aware of the unspoken tension that had been building since the moment they locked eyes. As the elevator doors slid open, revealing the penthouse floor, Taeyong stepped out first, glancing over his shoulder to make sure she followed.

He led her down a quiet hallway, stopping at a set of double doors at the end. He opened the door to his suite and gestured for her to enter.

The room was grand and opulent, with tall windows framed by heavy velvet drapes, offering a view of the twinkling city lights beyond. Ornate chandeliers cast a soft, golden glow over the richly decorated space, filled with dark mahogany furniture and plush, embroidered armchairs.

The air was thick with the scent of expensive cigars and perfume, adding to the room’s refined yet intimate atmosphere. She wandered a few steps inside, her heels clicking softly against the polished wooden floor, as she took in the luxury of the surroundings. Behind her, Taeyong quietly shut the heavy door, sealing them in.

“Not bad,” she remarked, her voice teasing as she turned to face him, though her gaze was sharper now.

Taeyong chuckled softly, stepping toward her, his presence filling the room. “I like to surround myself with the best,” he said, his voice low as his eyes lingered on her.

The city lights sparkled in the background, but neither of them paid any attention to it. Here, in the quiet luxury of the suite, the stakes had shifted.

Taeyong, still captivated by her, leaned in closer, his voice a quiet murmur. “Do you always make men work this hard for your attention?”

She smirked, turning her head slightly to meet his gaze, her tone just as playful. “Only the ones worth my time.”

Taeyong’s eyes darkened with amusement, but there was something more beneath the surface, something that hinted at how easily this night could turn dangerous. But for now, it was all part of the game they both seemed so eager to play.

Y/n’s eyes drifted over the room, drawn to a small, intricately carved wooden cabinet in the corner. Its brass handles gleamed under the soft light, catching her attention. She walked over, curiosity guiding her hands as she opened it to reveal a collection of crystal decanters, each filled with deep amber and golden liquids.

She smiled to herself, her fingers grazing the neck of a bottle. Lifting it out carefully, she admired the label, something foreign, expensive. The liquid inside shimmered as she tilted it in her hand.

“Seems you have a taste for the finer things,” she remarked, her voice carrying over to Taeyong, who was watching her closely from across the room.

“Only the best,” he replied smoothly, his eyes never leaving her as she uncorked the bottle and poured herself a small glass.

She raised the glass to her lips, the scent of the rich alcohol filling her senses as she took a slow sip, savoring the burn. “Fitting,” she murmured, glancing back at him with a playful gleam in her eye. “For someone like you.”

Without warning, Y/n set the glass down on the table, her steps deliberate as she moved toward Taeyong. The playful glint in her eyes had sharpened into something more intense, something dangerous. Before he could react, she was in front of him, close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating off her skin.

Then, she kissed him.

It was sudden and bold, her lips pressing against his with a fierce urgency that took him by surprise. He tasted the alcohol on her tongue, the rich flavor of the whiskey she had just sipped mingling with the heat of the moment.

His instincts kicked in, and for a split second, he hesitated, caught off guard by her forwardness. But the hesitation quickly melted away as he leaned into the kiss, his hand finding her lower back, pulling her closer.

The kiss deepened, and for a moment, the world outside disappeared, leaving just the two of them, locked in an unspoken power struggle masked by passion. He could feel the control she thought she had, the way she tried to lead, but Taeyong wasn’t one to be easily controlled.

As they pulled apart, her breath was shallow, her eyes searching his. There was a flicker of something, surprise, maybe, at how easily he had matched her intensity.

Y/n leaned back, her eyes dark with mischief as she bit her lower lip, still tasting him.

“Got anything stronger?” she asked, voice dripping with suggestion, though it wasn’t just alcohol she was referring to.

Taeyong raised a brow, catching her meaning instantly. He knew he shouldn’t. Every part of him, the part that was calculated and careful, warned him against it. But tonight, with the way she looked at him, the way her body pressed against his, he felt reckless. Careless. He had already let his guard down more than he should have.

“Maybe,” he muttered, taking a step back as his eyes scanned her face for any hesitation.

There was none. Her smile widened, dangerous and inviting.

Without another word, Taeyong turned and walked towards the bedroom. Each step he took felt like a deliberate move into something deeper, darker. He shouldn’t be doing this, but something about her, her energy, her wildness, was pulling him further in.

For a man like him, a renowned mafia leader, carrying drugs wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. It was just another part of the empire he’d built, alongside the money, the power, the fear. He dealt with it all the time, moving shipments through back channels, controlling the flow of illegal substances across borders like it was second nature.

He had grown numb to the risks, to the constant threats of betrayal and law enforcement. It was just business. The same cold, calculated moves that had earned him his reputation, feared and respected in equal measure. But tonight, he wasn’t thinking like a businessman. He wasn’t thinking like the mafia boss who always stayed ten steps ahead.

No, tonight, he felt careless. He felt reckless. Maybe it was her, maybe it was the way she made him feel alive in a way nothing else did anymore. Whatever it was, it made him forget the rules he usually lived by.

Walking out of the room, Taeyong tossed it to her. The small package flew through the air, landing neatly in Y/n’s hands. Her face lit up immediately, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she tore the corner of the package with her teeth.

A satisfied smile spread across her lips as she held it up, inspecting it. “Now we’re talking,” she murmured, her gaze flicking back to Taeyong, full of promise.

Taeyong leaned against the doorframe, watching her with a mix of amusement and anticipation, his smirk lingering. He might have known better, but tonight wasn’t about caution, it was about letting go.

Taeyong chuckled, watching her with a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Careful with that,” he warned, his voice low and smooth, but with an edge of seriousness.

She caught his gaze, her grin widening as she tossed the brick onto a nearby table. “It’s not for me,” she replied with a shrug, her tone casual, almost dismissive.

For a moment, he wanted to ask, wanted to pry into what exactly she had planned. But before he could, she was already closing the distance between them, her steps slow and deliberate. He noticed the glint in her eyes, the dangerous allure of someone playing a game, and then she tipped back her drink, the liquid flowing into her mouth.

Without missing a beat, she grabbed the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his hair, and pulled him in for another kiss. The contact was fierce, urgent, and just as he felt her lips pressing hard against his, he realized what she was doing. She parted her mouth slightly, transferring the burning liquid from hers into his.

The sharp taste of alcohol hit his tongue, and he swallowed instinctively, the heat rushing through him as he felt the fire between them intensify. She pulled back just a fraction, her breath mingling with his as her eyes locked onto his, daring him to take control of whatever came next.

As she kissed Taeyong, a thrill of mischief was brewing in her. With one hand still gripping the back of his neck, she reached for the package of cocaine, deftly opening it with her other hand. Her pinky fingernail slid into the fine white powder, scooping up a small amount, the movement almost teasing as she pulled back from the kiss.

She held the substance in front of him, a playful smirk playing on her lips. “You think you can handle this?” she teased, her tone laced with challenge and excitement.

The air was thick with tension, and Taeyong’s gaze flickered from her mischievous smile to the powder she held, his heart racing at the mix of danger and allure.

“Is that a dare?” he asked, arching an eyebrow, intrigued by her boldness.

“Maybe,” she replied, her voice low, the words dripping with seduction. “Or maybe I just want to see what kind of man you really are.”

The challenge hung in the air between them, igniting a fire that neither of them wanted to extinguish.

Without a second thought, Taeyong leaned in, his eyes locked onto hers as sniffed the powder straight from her finger. He tipped his head back, getting used to the feeling of the substance in his nose. The fine white powder slid effortlessly into his nostrils, a rush that ignited a spark in his veins. As he processed, he felt her lips press against his neck, warm and inviting, sending shivers down his spine.

“You take it often?” she asked, her breath hot against his skin, the question laced with curiosity and a hint of challenge.

He chuckled softly, his voice slightly breathless. “I don’t buy it. I deal it,” he replied, a glint of mischief in his eyes. The thrill of the moment heightened the tension between them, a game of power and allure.

Her brows furrowed slightly, feigning innocence. “I thought you weren’t supposed to take your own stuff,” she countered, her tone playful yet probing.

Taeyong smirked, the corners of his mouth lifting as he leaned closer, his breath brushing against her ear. “I can’t deny a pretty girl like you,” he said, his voice dripping with confidence.

The allure of the moment was intoxicating, and the night was only just beginning.

The air crackled with an electric tension, the kind that only deepened the longer they were together. Taeyong turned, his gaze intense, locking onto hers as if daring her to make the next move. She felt the heat radiating off him, the intoxicating blend of alcohol and adrenaline swirling around them like a heady perfume.

Without breaking eye contact, Taeyong took her hand, intertwining their fingers with a possessive grip.

“Why don’t we take this somewhere a little more…comfortable?” he suggested, his voice low and sultry.

Her heart raced at the invitation, a thrill coursing through her veins. She didn’t hesitate, nodding slightly as he led her through the opulent space. The rich decor faded into the background, her focus entirely on him, the way his eyes glinted with mischief, the way he moved with an effortless confidence that made her pulse quicken.

As they reached the door to the bedroom, Taeyong paused, glancing over his shoulder to gauge her reaction. She wore a teasing smile, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

“What’s the matter? Afraid I might bite?” she teased, her tone light yet daring.

He chuckled, shaking his head as he opened the door, revealing a dimly lit sanctuary adorned with plush furnishings and decadent decor. “I’m counting on it,” he replied, stepping aside to let her enter first.

She stepped into the room, taking in the lavish surroundings, the thick curtains, the soft glow of the lamps, and the king-sized bed draped in silky sheets. It felt like a dream, but she knew better. The real thrill was the man behind her, his presence radiating heat and danger.

Taeyong closed the door behind them, the soft click echoing in the intimate space. He stepped closer, his breath warm against her neck as he leaned in, whispering, “You sure you can handle what comes next?”

With a bold grin, she turned to face him, her hands finding their way to the collar of his shirt, fingers teasingly brushing against his skin. “Oh, I can handle a lot more than you think.”

With that, she pulled him in for another kiss, her lips crashing against his with a fervor that set the room ablaze. As the kiss deepened, she felt his hands slide around her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them, tangled in a moment that promised so much more.

Their lips moved in sync, a heated dance that only intensified as Taeyong's hands explored the curves of her body. His fingers pressed into her waist, pulling her flush against him as he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against hers with a tantalizing hunger. She moaned softly into his mouth, a sound that sent a spark of satisfaction through him.

He guided her backward, step by step, until the back of her legs hit the edge of the bed. Without breaking the kiss, she sank onto the plush sheets, her fingers fumbling to undo the buttons of his shirt. The fabric slipped from his shoulders, revealing the toned expanse of his chest beneath, the dim light casting shadows that highlighted every sharp line of muscle.

Taeyong hovered over her, his breath ragged as his gaze traced the length of her body. “You’re trouble,” he muttered, but the grin on his face suggested he didn’t mind one bit.

She laughed softly, tugging him down to meet her again. “You like it.”

His lips found hers once more, this time slower, more deliberate. The weight of him pressed her into the mattress, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as their bodies moved together. Each kiss was a promise, each touch a tease of what was to come.

Her hand slipped to the side, fingers brushing against the opened package of cocaine on the nightstand. She picked it up with a smirk, holding it up in front of him as their kiss broke. “Want more?” she teased, her voice dripping with playful wickedness.

Taeyong’s gaze flicked to the powder, then back to her. His breath hitched slightly, but he leaned down, brushing his lips along her jawline, then lower, down her neck.

“Maybe later,” he whispered against her skin, his voice rough with desire.

Y/n smirked at Taeyong’s teasing restraint, her fingers idly tracing along his jaw as his lips explored the curve of her neck.

"Maybe later?" she echoed, her voice sultry and daring. "Why wait?"

She picked up the package of cocaine again, holding it in front of him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “What if I made it more interesting?” Her tone was playful, but there was an edge to it, a challenge.

Taeyong raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking between her and the package. “What are you suggesting?” he asked, his voice low, curiosity piqued.

Without answering, Y/n tore open the plastic and dipped her fingers in, lightly sprinkling a line of the powder along her collarbone and down between her breasts. She reclined back, holding herself up on her elbows, gazing up at him with a wicked smile.

Taeyong’s eyes darkened with desire at the sight of her, the offer too tempting to resist. His hand came to rest on her hip as he leaned down, his breath warm against her skin. Without hesitation, he dipped his head, inhaling the line of powder in one swift motion, his nose brushing lightly along the trail she had created.

As he finished, Y/n tilted her head back with a soft gasp, her fingers threading through his hair.

"How’s that for a rush?" she murmured, pulling him back up to her level.

Taeyong wiped the remnants of the powder from his nose, his pupils blown wide from both the high and the heat between them.

“You’re dangerous,” he muttered, his lips hovering over hers.

"And you love it," she whispered back before capturing his mouth again, the thrill of it all sending their chemistry into overdrive.

Taeyong dipped his, her heart pounding in her chest as his kisses moved lower, trailing down her collarbone, then to the curve of her breasts, as if following the line she had made.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, guiding him, encouraging him. He took his time, savoring every inch of her, while the tension between them grew almost unbearable.

“Taeyong,” she breathed, her voice laced with impatience, desire coiling tightly inside her.

He pulled back slightly, meeting her eyes with a smirk. “Patience, Baby. I’m just getting started.” His words sent a rush of heat through her, her body already anticipating the thrill of what he would do next.

Taeyong's words hung in the air, heavy with promise, as he sat up on his knees above her, his eyes dark and intense as they roamed over her body.

Slowly, deliberately, his hands moved to the buttons of his shirt, unfastening them one by one, revealing the smooth expanse of his chest. He didn’t rush, taking his time, watching her reaction with every piece of fabric that fell away.

Y/n bit her lip, her eyes never leaving him as she felt the tension between them grow thicker. She examined the ink that covered his skin, small tattoos on his torso and arms.

She could feel the heat of his gaze as it traveled down her figure, making her skin tingle in anticipation. Without breaking eye contact, she slipped the straps of her dress off her shoulders, pushing the fabric down her body. Her skin was flushed with excitement, every inch of her exposed to him now.

Taeyong’s breath hitched as his eyes devoured the sight of her standing there, unapologetically bold and seductive. He reached for her, his fingers grazing her waist before trailing down to the curve of her hips, pulling her closer.

"You’re something else," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, his lips ghosting over the side of her neck.

Her hands slid down his torso, finding their way to his belt. With deliberate movements, she unfastened it, her fingers deftly working on the button and zipper of his pants. The air between them was electric, their touches slow, savoring the tension that crackled between them.

Taeyong’s eyes darkened as she leaned back onto the bed, her body sinking into the soft mattress. He pulled his pants off the rest of the way, letting them fall to the floor, then followed her down, hovering back above her with a predatory grace.

The heat between them was undeniable, his body close enough to feel, but not quite touching. His breath ghosted over her skin as his eyes roamed over her, drinking in the sight of her lying beneath him, her chest rising and falling with anticipation.

He kissed her again, this time deeper, more intense, his hands roaming freely over her bare skin, mapping out every curve. Y/n responded in kind, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, wanting more, needing more.

Taeyong broke the kiss for just a second, his forehead resting against hers as they both caught their breath. "I can’t tell if it’s the coke that’s got me fucked up, or if it’s you," he whispered.

A sly smile curled on her lips as she glanced up at him, her eyes glinting with mischief.

"Maybe it’s both," she teased, her fingers trailing lightly down his chest. "But I’d bet on me."

Her touch was electrifying, leaving a trail of heat in its wake as she explored the firm lines of his body. Taeyong groaned softly, his forehead still pressed against hers, their breath mingling in the charged space between them. His hands skimmed down her sides, every touch deliberate, as if he was savoring each second.

"You’re dangerous, Baby," he murmured, his voice rough but playful.

He kissed her again, deeper this time, his body pressing her into the soft mattress. She welcomed the weight of him, wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling him closer as they gave in to the electric pull between them.

"Only for you," she whispered against his lips, her voice soft but edged with the same intensity that burned in both of them.

His hips bucked forward, the his hard length rubbing against her sensitive core. She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as waves of pleasure washed over her. He growled, his teeth grazing her neck as he nipped gently.

Guiding himself to her entrance, he positioned the head of his member just inches away from her warmth. Taeyong pulled away from her neck and their eyes locked, holding onto each other for a fleeting moment before he slowly pushed inward. She arched her back, meeting him halfway as he slid inside her with agonizing slowness.

Their bodies pressed together, the heat between them building with every movement. Taeyong's hips moved against hers with a steady, determined rhythm, the sound of their bodies colliding filling the room. His grip on her hips tightened as he pulled her closer with each thrust, the intensity of their connection growing with every second.

Y/n’s back arched against the bed, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her as she matched his pace. The friction between them was electric, each movement pushing them closer to the edge. Taeyong’s breath was hot against her neck as he buried his face there, groaning softly with every thrust.

The bed creaked beneath them, and the sound of their ragged breathing mixed with the raw, physical rhythm of their bodies. Every sensation was heightened, the tension between them building, and neither of them wanted it to end. Taeyong was so lost in the moment, Y/n saw her opportunity.

Y/n shifted quickly, rolling Taeyong onto his back, catching him off guard. “What–” he started, but the words died in his throat as she straddled him, her hands pressing against his chest to keep him in place. His surprise faded, replaced by a dark, hungry look as he watched her take control.

"My turn," she teased, her voice low, as she positioned herself over him.

Without waiting for a response, she began to move, her hips grinding down onto him with fierce determination. The intensity of her movements drew a deep groan from Taeyong, his fingers digging into her thighs as he let her take over.

“Fuck,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his gaze locked on her.

Y/n’s movements were unrelenting, each bounce driving him deeper inside her, and the raw need between them grew with every second. The bed shook beneath them as their bodies collided, the rhythmic slap of skin against skin filling the room.

“You like that?” Y/n asked, her voice breathless, her hands braced against his chest as she continued to ride him hard.

"You're gonna kill me," Taeyong groaned, his head tipping back against the pillow as his grip tightened on her hips.

She leaned forward, her hair falling around them like a curtain, framing the heated exchange of their gazes.

"I'll take my chances," she shot back with a smirk, picking up the pace. His low, guttural groans encouraged her, each thrust pushing them closer to the edge.

Y/n continued to ride him, her movements steady and relentless. As she leaned forward, she captured Taeyong's lips in a heated kiss, their mouths moving in perfect sync. The taste of him ignited a fire inside her, but just as quickly as the kiss began, she pulled back, leaving him breathless and wanting more.

Taeyong blinked, momentarily dazed, only to catch sight of her holding the bottle of alcohol again, something he hadn’t even noticed her bring into the room. A mix of surprise and intrigue flickered in his eyes as she held it above him, the dim light reflecting off the glass.

“Thought you might want a drink,” she said with a mischievous grin, tilting the bottle to pour a steady stream into his mouth.

He gulped it down, the warmth of the liquor sliding down his throat and mingling with the heat radiating from their bodies.

“Damn, tryna get me fucked up,” he chuckled, licking his lips as he met her gaze, a mix of admiration and desire swirling within him.

“Looks that way,” she replied, her tone playful as she lowered the bottle, leaning closer to him once more.

Y/n's hands found their way to Taeyong's neck, her fingers curling around him with a firm grip, nails digging in just enough to send a thrill of intensity coursing through his veins. The sensation of her touch mixed with the alcohol and the rush of lust swirling inside him made everything feel electric. He was intoxicated, not just from the liquor and drugs, but from her, from this moment.

Taeyong had never felt anything like this before, especially not while in such a submissive position. It was new territory, a vulnerability he hadn't expected to embrace so eagerly. The power dynamics felt deliciously inverted, and the way Y/n held him, a mix of dominance and seduction, only fueled the fire burning inside him.

“God, you’re intoxicating,” he breathed, his voice thick with desire.

Her fingers tightened around his neck, urging him to focus entirely on her. The thrill of her control sent shivers down his spine, and he found himself lost in her gaze, utterly captivated.

“Good,” she replied, her voice sultry and low, sending heat pooling in his stomach. “I want you to feel everything.”

She pressed her body down against him, their skin slick with sweat and desire, and he could feel every pulse of her heartbeat against his own. Taeyong let out a low groan, completely at her mercy, relishing the feeling of being wanted, desired, something he wasn’t used to feeling in such an intense way.

“Then show me,” he challenged, his eyes dark with need, urging her to take him deeper into this wild dance of passion they had created together.

Y/n's eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear. “You’re going to have to earn it,” she teased, her voice dripping with playful seduction. The challenge hung in the air between them, and Taeyong felt his heart race in response.

“Is that so?” he replied, a smirk creeping onto his face. He thrusted his hips up into her, feeling the way her body reacted to the movement, a subtle arch, a soft gasp. The control was intoxicating, but he craved more.

“Yeah,” she purred, her fingers still wrapped around his neck as she leaned back slightly, giving him a view of her fiery determination. “I want to see how far you’re willing to go for me.” Her playful demeanor only heightened the thrill coursing through him.

With that, Y/n began to move again, her hips rolling slowly at first, teasingly, then building in intensity as she found her rhythm. Each thrust was deliberate, each movement sending shockwaves through them both.

Taeyong’s breath came in quick, ragged gasps as he struggled to maintain his composure, overwhelmed by the sensation of her body enveloping him completely.

“Y/n,” he groaned, his voice laced with desperation. “You’re killing me.”

She leaned in, pressing her lips against his for a brief, heated kiss before pulling away to gaze down at him.

“And you love every second of it,” she shot back, her confidence radiating as she continued to ride him, each motion pushing them closer to the edge.

“Yeah, I do,” he admitted, a low chuckle escaping him despite the overwhelming lust. “But don’t think I’ll let you have all the fun.”

With a sudden burst of energy, he shifted beneath her, using the grip of her nails on his neck to pull her closer, flipping their positions once more. Now, he was the one on top, hovering over her with a smirk that spoke of playful dominance.

“Now it’s my turn,” he declared, his voice low and commanding.

Taeyong leaned down, capturing her lips again as he began to thrust into her with a newfound intensity, determined to show her just how much he wanted her. The room was filled with the sound of their bodies moving together, each moan and gasp echoing off the walls, creating a symphony of their shared passion.

Y/n’s nails dug deeper into his back, urging him on as she surrendered completely to the overwhelming pleasure of the moment. “Don’t hold back,” she whispered between kisses, her breath hot against his skin, pushing him further into the frenzy of desire they had ignited together.

The intensity between them built to an almost unbearable level as Taeyong drove into her with fervor. Each thrust ignited a fire that consumed them, their bodies moving in perfect harmony, the rhythm of their pleasure growing more urgent with each passing moment. Y/n's breathy gasps turned into sharp cries, each sound urging him on, pushing him closer to the edge.

“Taeyong,” she moaned, her fingers tangled in his hair as she pulled him down for another searing kiss.

The heat radiating from their bodies enveloped them, amplifying the sensations coursing through their veins. “I’m so close...”

He could feel her tightening around him, the way her body responded to his every movement.

“Me too,” he grunted, his voice strained with effort and desire.

He thrust deeper, harder, trying to prolong the inevitable, wanting to savor every second of their connection.

Y/n’s eyes met his, wild with passion and urgency. The fire in her gaze matched the one burning inside him, and with that, they both surrendered completely to the waves of pleasure crashing over them, their orgasm overtaking them.

With one last powerful thrust, Taeyong felt the rush of ecstasy build to its peak. Y/n cried out his name as she hit her climax, her body arching beneath him, pulsing around him as waves of pleasure washed over her.

The sensation pushed Taeyong over the edge as well, his own release hitting him hard and fast, his hot cum coating her insides. He felt the world around him fade away, the only reality being the intoxicating bliss they shared. Their bodies moved together, lost in the pleasure, every gasp, every moan, an affirmation of their desire.

As they both rode out the final waves of their climax, Taeyong collapsed against her, breathless and spent. He could feel Y/n’s heart racing beneath him, the warmth of their connection lingering in the air.

“Fuck,” he murmured, a satisfied smile spreading across his face as he looked down at her.

Y/n met his gaze, a satisfied grin breaking across her lips. “That was something,” she said, her breath still shaky from the intensity.

“Something doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he replied, chuckling softly as he shifted to lay beside her, still feeling the remnants of their passion enveloping them like a warm blanket.

Taeyong propped himself up on one elbow, watching as Y/n breathed heavily, her chest rising and falling with each breath. A sense of awe washed over him at the sight of her, still glowing from their shared intensity. He leaned in and pressed a hot kiss against her cheek, feeling the warmth radiate from her skin.

As he pulled back, a smile played on his lips, but he noticed Y/n shifting to get out of bed.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his voice low and slightly teasing.

She paused, looking back at him with a hint of confusion. “I thought I’d head off...”

“Stay the night,” he interrupted, his tone earnest as he reached out to gently pull her back toward him. “Please.”

Y/n hesitated for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features. But then, she felt the warmth of Taeyong's hand on her wrist, his grip firm yet inviting. There was something about his gaze, intense, sincere, that made her heart race all over again.

“Just stay,” he said softly, his eyes searching hers. “I want you here.”

She bit her lip, weighing her options, but ultimately felt drawn to him. With a resigned smile, she slid back into bed, her body naturally gravitating towards his. Taeyong relaxed, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him.

“See? Isn’t this better?” he murmured, resting his chin on her head as they settled into the warmth of the moment.

Y/n nodded, feeling the comfort of being near him, allowing herself to savor the afterglow of their passion.

As they lay intertwined in the sheets, the room felt enveloped in a hushed intimacy, punctuated only by the soft sounds of their breathing. Y/n nestled closer to Taeyong, feeling the steady beat of his heart against her cheek.

The intoxicating blend of lust and satisfaction lingered in the air, mingling with the remnants of alcohol and their shared heat.

Taeyong’s fingers traced gentle patterns along her arm, sending shivers down her spine.

“I didn’t think I’d ever meet someone like you,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re…different.”

Y/n looked up at him, rolling her eyes. “You already tried that line, remember?” she said, her tone teasing.

“I mean you’re just so…wow,” he chuckled, a glint of admiration in his eyes. “Like you don’t care about anything except the moment. It’s refreshing.”

She smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “Well, I suppose you’re right.”

Y/n snuggled closer to Taeyong, feeling the warmth radiate from his body as he wrapped an arm around her. The soft rhythm of his breathing soon lulled her into a state of relaxation.

Taeyong pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his heart swelling with a sense of peace he hadn’t known he needed. As they lay together, the world outside faded away, leaving only the comfort of their shared warmth.

Eventually, the exhaustion from their earlier activities caught up with them, and their eyelids grew heavy. With a final content sigh, Y/n nestled into Taeyong's side, and they drifted off to sleep, cocooned in each other's embrace.

Taeyong stirred awake, blinking against the soft morning light that filtered through the curtains. As he glanced around the lavish bedroom, the first thing that hit him was the unmistakable absence beside him. A pang of confusion shot through him, quickly morphing into irritation.

Disoriented, he sat up and ran a hand through his tousled hair, the events of the previous night rushing back in fragments. Her laughter, their wild exchanges, the thrill of their shared passion, all of it felt surreal now. A bitter laugh escaped his lips. What had he expected? She had used him for a good fuck, plain and simple.

He chuckled to himself, shaking his head at his own naivety. He didn’t even know what he would’ve done if she had still been there in the morning, probably fuck her again, considering how good she was last night. But now, the silence of the room was deafening.

As he shifted in the bed, a wave of nausea washed over him. The cocktail of coke and alcohol from the night before settled heavily in his stomach, making him feel even worse. He groaned, running a hand over his face as he tried to shake off the lingering haze of intoxication.

“Great,” he muttered to himself, his voice hoarse. “Just what I needed.”

The door swung open, and Johnny sauntered in, a wide grin on his face. He took one look at Taeyong, sprawled out in bed, and burst into laughter.

“Damn, Taeyong, you look like you got run over by a truck,” he teased, leaning against the doorframe. “It’s already mid-day, you know. Get up!”

Taeyong groaned, pulling the sheets up over his head in a half-hearted attempt to shield himself from the light. “Shut up, Johnny. You have no idea what kind of night I had.”

Johnny’s laughter only grew louder. “Oh, I have a pretty good idea. You look completely fucked out. Did you even sleep, or did you just go for round two with whoever that girl was?”

Taeyong peered out from under the sheets, giving Johnny a half-hearted glare.

“She left before I woke up,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “And now I feel like I’ve been hit by a freight train.”

“Welcome to the club, my friend.” Johnny chuckled, stepping further into the room and plopping down on the edge of the bed. “You might want to get up and drink some water before you end up dehydrated. Or better yet, have a good clean.”

Taeyong sighed, knowing Johnny was right. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get up. Just give me a minute to process everything.”

“Sure thing, but I’m pretty sure you’ll want to process it in the shower. You smell like a bar floor,” Johnny joked, standing up and crossing his arms with a smirk.

Taeyong groaned, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and pushing himself up.

He trudged toward the ensuite bathroom, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. “Johnny, start tracking down that girl, will you?”

Johnny raised an eyebrow, leaning back casually against the wall. “Why? You want a repeat performance or something?”

“Because I want to know where she went,” Taeyong replied, stepping into the bathroom and turning on the shower.

Johnny laughed dryily, shaking his head, “Okay, what’s her name?” Johnny asked, his curiosity piqued.

“Y/n,” Taeyong muttered, wincing as the cold water hit him. He quickly adjusted the temperature. “Just get on it, alright?”

“Consider it done,” Johnny said with a playful salute. “I’ll track down Y/n and see what I can dig up. You better be ready for round two when I do.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Taeyong called back, shaking his head with a small smile as he stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash over him and clear his mind.

The sun hung high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the bustling street. Taeyong stood casually leaning against a lamppost as he watched Y/n through the window of the bakery. The delicate scent of fresh pastries wafted out into the air, but his focus was solely on her.

Inside, Y/n moved gracefully behind the counter, her hair cascading over her shoulders as she expertly kneaded dough. A warm smile lit up her face as she interacted with customers, completely unaware of the man watching her from outside.

He felt a strange mix of admiration and intrigue as he observed her, realizing just how easy it was for him to find her, being a mafia leader had its perks.

“Are you sure about this?” Johnny asked from the driver’s seat of the car parked beside him, breaking Taeyong’s concentration. “You don’t want to just go in and scare her off.”

Taeyong smirked, adjusting his sunglasses. “I’m not going to scare her off. I just want to see her in her element first.”

Johnny shook his head, still slightly amused. “Awww, you’re starting to sound like a lovesick puppy.”

“Shut up,” Taeyong replied, keeping his gaze fixed on Y/n. “Just give me a minute.”

He took a deep breath, letting the moment sink in. There was something about her that drew him in, something that made him want to know more. Maybe it was the way she lit up a room or how effortlessly she handled the chaos of the bakery. Whatever it was, he couldn't ignore it.

“Alright, I’ll wait,” Johnny said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. “But don’t take too long, helping you with your love life ain’t what you hired me for.”

As the day wound down, Taeyong's patience paid off when he saw Y/n lock the bakery door and step outside. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the street.

She glanced around, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before heading down the block. Taeyong's curiosity piqued as he watched her walk with a lightness in her step, her energy infectious.

His interest sharpened when he noticed her turn into a speakeasy, its hidden entrance blending into the surrounding buildings. Taeyong exchanged a quick glance with Johnny, who raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “Looks like we’re not done yet,” Taeyong muttered, pushing away from the lamppost and following her inside.

The speakeasy buzzed with life, dimly lit and filled with the sound of laughter and clinking glasses. Taeyong navigated through the crowd, his eyes fixed on Y/n as she settled onto a barstool. He felt a thrill run through him, knowing he was close to her again.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped closer, scanning the room to blend in seamlessly. He found a spot at the bar where he could keep her in sight without being too obvious. As he watched her sip her drink, he felt an unexpected warmth spreading through him, a stark contrast to the cold, calculated life he usually led.

Taeyong leaned against the bar, his gaze fixed on Y/n. The laughter and energy of the speakeasy faded into the background, replaced by the sharp focus of his attention. His heart raced when a man approached her, confidence radiating from him as he leaned casually against the bar.

At first, Taeyong expected Y/n to brush him off like she had done with the man the night before. He felt a flicker of hope, imagining her turning away from the stranger, her eyes searching for him instead. But to his surprise, Y/n met the man’s flirtation with an easy smile, her body language open and inviting.

Jealousy surged within him, hot and unwelcome. He clenched his jaw, fingers gripping the edge of the bar as he watched her lean in closer to the man, laughter spilling from her lips. It felt like a punch to the gut, the connection they had shared the night before suddenly felt fragile and fleeting.

Taeyong pushed himself off the barstool, the resolve in his gut propelling him forward. He walked with purpose toward the two, each step steady and deliberate. As he drew closer, he caught Y/n's eye. Her expression shifted from flirtation to shock.

Before the man could see what she was looking at, Taeyong closed the distance, pressing the cool metal of his gun against the stranger's back. The tension in the air shifted instantly, the carefree ambiance of the speakeasy darkening as he leaned in closer.

“Get lost,” he said in a low, menacing voice, ensuring his tone conveyed the seriousness of the situation. The man stiffened, the confidence he had displayed just moments ago vanishing in an instant.

Y/n's eyes widened further, a mix of excitement and alarm swirling within them. “Taeyong–”

“Not now, Y/n,” he snapped, never breaking his gaze from the man in front of him. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through him, the thrill of power rushing in tandem with his anger.

The stranger raised his hands in surrender, his bravado crumbling. “Alright, man, I was just talking to her,” he stammered, glancing nervously between Y/n and Taeyong.

“And now you’re done,” Taeyong growled, his grip on the gun steady. He took a small step back, giving the man just enough space to understand he needed to leave. “Get out of here before I change my mind.”

With one last wary look, the man quickly backed away, retreating from the scene as Taeyong kept his gun trained on him. Y/n sat frozen, a mix of emotions playing across her face, ones Taeyong didn’t have the time to examine.

When the man was finally out of sight, Taeyong lowered his weapon, turning his full attention to her.

“So…how are you today?” he asked, his voice changing immediately as he took the seat beside her, eager to close the gap between them.

“Are you following me?” Y/n asked, her voice sharp as she crossed her arms, still processing the situation. Her eyes locked onto his, searching for answers.

Taeyong smirked, slipping the gun back into his waistband with a practiced ease. “Wouldn’t call it following. Just…making sure you stay out of trouble.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with his answer. “I can handle myself.”

He took another step closer, his smirk fading as his expression turned serious. “Sure…But I don’t like seeing what’s mine getting cozy with some random guy.”

Y/n's eyes narrowed, her posture stiffening at his words. "What’s yours?" she repeated, her voice laced with disbelief and offense. "I’m not some possession, Taeyong. You don’t own me."

Taeyong's jaw clenched slightly, realizing his mistake but too proud to backtrack. “That’s not what I meant.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms tighter over her chest. “Sure sounded like it.”

His frustration flared, but he tried to keep his voice level. “Look, I didn’t mean it like that. But after last night–”

“After last night, I owe you nothing,” Y/n cut him off, her eyes flashing with anger. “You don't get to track me down, show up out of nowhere, and act like I belong to you. That’s not how this works.”

Taeyong stood there, staring at her, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He hated the way she could shut him down so easily, the way her words pierced through his defenses. He wasn’t used to feeling like this, off balance, vulnerable. Most people either feared or respected him, and he always had control. But with Y/n, it was different.

He clenched his fists, trying to keep his emotions in check. Why do you care so much? he thought to himself, struggling to make sense of the turmoil inside him. You’re Taeyong, the leader. You don’t chase after anyone. You don’t get attached.

But there she was, standing in front of him, fiery and untouchable, and all he could think about was the way she had gotten under his skin. She’s right, a small voice in his head admitted. She doesn’t owe you anything. She doesn’t belong to anyone.

But still, the possessiveness lingered, that dark, gnawing feeling that someone else could take her away, could get close to her in the way he wanted. It wasn’t just about control, it was about her, about the way she had him wrapped up in her unpredictability, her allure.

You can't lose her like this, his thoughts growled. You’ll have her one way or another.

Taeyong swallowed the rising frustration, his eyes locking onto hers with a smoldering intensity. He stepped closer, lowering his voice but keeping it firm.

“Come with me, Y/n,” he said, the command hidden beneath a layer of something softer, almost pleading.

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a half-smile.

“And why would I do that?” she challenged, folding her arms across her chest, clearly unimpressed by his demand.

His jaw clenched, the need for control warring with the need for her.

“Because I’m not done with you,” he said, his voice gruff, a hint of vulnerability slipping through despite his efforts to sound detached.

He hated how much he wanted her to come with him, but it was the truth, and he couldn’t hide it. Not anymore.

Her smile faltered, just for a second, as if she wasn’t expecting that honesty.

But then she shook her head, her eyes sharp. “You don’t get to just order me around, Taeyong. I’m not yours to command.”

His hand reached out, gently brushing her arm, his gaze softening.

“I’m not trying to command you,” he said, quieter this time, “I just…I would like you to come with me.”

The sincerity in his voice caught her off guard, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to respond.

Y/n studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable as she weighed his words. The tension between them hung thick in the air, the noise of the bar fading into the background. She sighed, her resolve softening as she glanced away, her arms slowly unfolding.

“Alright,” she said, her voice quieter now, as if the decision had cost her something. “I’ll go with you.”

Taeyong felt a surge of relief, though he kept it hidden behind his usual composed exterior. He gave a small nod, stepping back slightly to give her space, though his eyes never left hers. “Good choice,” he murmured, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk.

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the slight smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Don’t get cocky, Taeyong,” she warned, grabbing her jacket and standing up from the barstool.

Taeyong’s smirk deepened as he watched her, already anticipating the night ahead. “Too late.”

As they stepped out of the dimly lit speakeasy, the cool night air hit them, a stark contrast to the warmth inside. Y/n glanced over at Taeyong, curiosity flickering in her eyes as they walked side by side down the empty street.

“So,” she began, her tone casual but laced with suspicion, “how exactly did you find me?”

Taeyong smirked, his hands tucked casually into his pockets as they strolled.

“I have my ways,” he said cryptically, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

Y/n narrowed her gaze. “That doesn’t exactly answer my question.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Let’s just say…my line of work makes it easier to find people.”

Her brows arched, catching the subtle hint. “Your line of work, huh? I figured you weren’t just some regular drug dealer.”

Taeyong gave her a sidelong glance, the smirk still lingering on his lips but his eyes more serious now.

“I’m a bit more than that,” he admitted, though he left it at that, letting her imagination fill in the blanks.

Y/n exhaled, her suspicions confirmed, though she didn’t push for more.

“Yeah, I thought so,” she muttered, but there was a glint of intrigue in her voice, as if she had expected this revelation all along.

Taeyong led her to the car, his hand lightly resting on the small of her back as they made their way across the street. His car was parked discreetly under a shadowy tree, sleek and unassuming, much like the man beside her. He opened the door for her with a slight gesture, his eyes lingering on her as she slid into the back seat.

Y/n glanced up, immediately recognizing Johnny, who was seated behind the wheel, waiting for them.

"Hello," she greeted with a casual nod, her tone carrying a trace of amusement as if this was all too familiar now.

Johnny turned his head slightly, giving her a charming grin. “Nice to see you again.”

Taeyong closed the door behind her, circling around to the other side before getting in. He leaned back in his seat as Johnny started the engine, a satisfied smirk on his face. The night wasn’t over yet.

The car slipped smoothly through the city streets, the hum of the engine the only sound breaking the silence. Taeyong’s hand rested casually on his lap, but his eyes were fixed ahead, a mixture of focus and anticipation flickering behind them. This wasn’t a drive back to some hotel for a quick thrill, it was to his place, the real heart of his world.

Y/n leaned back against the seat, watching the city lights blur past the windows. The atmosphere in the car was tense, but not uncomfortable. She sensed there was more to this night than just them going back to some fancy place. She glanced at Taeyong, curious but unwilling to break the silence just yet.

Johnny expertly maneuvered through the streets, finally pulling off the main roads and into a quieter, more secluded neighborhood. The buildings grew larger and more spaced apart, signaling that they were entering wealthier territory.

After a few more turns, they pulled up in front of a massive modern mansion, its sleek design a stark contrast to the traditional luxury of the city.

The car came to a smooth stop in front of the entrance, and Johnny looked back over his shoulder, giving Taeyong a nod. “We’re here.”

Taeyong opened the door and stepped out, rounding the car to help Y/n out, his hand extending towards her. “Welcome to my place,” he said, his voice low, the weight of the moment not lost on him.

Y/n took his hand, stepping out of the car. She looked up at the grand home, impressed but keeping her expression neutral.

“Not bad,” she said, a teasing lilt in her voice. “Definitely better than the hotel.”

Taeyong chuckled. “I’d hope so.”

He led her up the stone steps, the mansion looming large behind them as the doors swung open, inviting them into his domain.

As they stepped out of the car, Johnny parked it in the driveway before turning to them with a casual grin.

“I’ll be in my room if you need me. Try not to break anything,” he joked, giving them a wink before heading inside.

Taeyong gestured for Y/n to follow him, leading her through the grand entrance of the mansion. The interior was as impressive as the exterior, filled with modern art, sleek furniture, and a few extravagant touches that screamed wealth. High ceilings and expansive windows flooded the space with natural light, creating an inviting atmosphere.

“Over here is the living room,” Taeyong said, pointing to a spacious area filled with plush couches and a massive entertainment center.

He moved further into the house, showing her the kitchen, which boasted state-of-the-art appliances, and a dining room that could seat a small army.

Y/n nodded, feigning interest, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldn’t help but replay the intensity of their last encounter in her head, the way he had touched her, kissed her, and made her feel so alive.

The desire to repeat that experience surged within her, and she found herself wondering how quickly she could get him back into bed. Maybe she could suggest a drink to loosen them both up again, get him in the right mood.

“Let me show you the game room,” Taeyong continued, oblivious to her inner thoughts.

He led her down a hallway, and she followed closely, her heart racing with anticipation. As they entered the game room, filled with a pool table and a bar stocked with an impressive selection of spirits, she felt a rush of excitement.

“This is where I entertain,” he said with a smirk, his eyes glinting mischievously. “I’m sure I can entertain you.”

Y/n leaned against the bar, biting her lip as she regarded him. “You seem pretty confident.”

“I have my moments,” he replied, stepping closer, the air thickening with tension.

She could sense the heat between them again, a palpable magnetism pulling her toward him.

“So what’s the next move?” she asked, her voice teasing yet suggestive.

Taeyong smirked, leaning against the bar beside her, his body inches away. “Well, I could show you how to play a game or two…”

“Or we could skip to the part where we end up in bed again,” Y/n interrupted playfully, locking eyes with him.

His grin widened, and a spark ignited in his gaze. “I like the way you think.”

With that, she took a step closer, the space between them disappearing, and she knew the night was far from over.

Y/n grabbed a sleek bottle of whiskey from the bar, her fingers wrapping around the cool glass as she turned to Taeyong with a mischievous smile.

“Come on, let’s get comfortable,” she said, tugging him gently but firmly out of the game room.

“Where are we going?” he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes as he let her lead him down the hallway.

“Take me to your room,” she replied, glancing over her shoulder at him, her confidence unwavering. The anticipation of what was to come made her heart race.

Taeyong chuckled, clearly entertained by her boldness. “You really know what you want, huh?”

“Absolutely,” she shot back, her voice laced with flirtation. “I’m not here to waste time.”

As they reached his bedroom door, Y/n paused, looking up at him with a playful glint in her eye. “Well? You gonna let me in?”

Taeyong raised an eyebrow, a grin spreading across his face. “I suppose I can’t deny a pretty girl like you.”

With that, he opened the door, and Y/n stepped inside, feeling a rush of excitement at the sight of his lavish room. It was elegantly decorated, yet it carried an inviting warmth.

She turned back to him, still holding the bottle. “Let’s make this night memorable.”

“Trust me, it already is,” he replied, stepping in after her and closing the door behind them, sealing off the world outside as the thrill of the night enveloped them once more.

Without wasting a moment, Y/n closed the distance between them and pressed her lips against Taeyong’s. The kiss was electric, igniting a fire between them as she pushed him back onto the bed.

Taeyong fell back, caught off guard but quickly recovering as he leaned into her, his hands finding her waist.

“Wow, someone’s eager,” he teased, a playful smirk forming on his lips.

Y/n didn’t respond with words, instead, she deepened the kiss, pouring all her desire into it. She straddled him, her body fitting perfectly against his as she began to grind against him, the heat between them intensifying.

“Is this how you treat everyone that invites you into their room?” Taeyong asked, his voice low and breathless, a mixture of surprise and thrill evident in his tone.

She pulled back slightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Only the ones I plan to have a very good time with.”

With that, she captured his lips again, feeling the thrill of the night surge through her as she let her hands roam over his chest, savoring every moment as they fell deeper into each other.

She moved in slow, sensuous circles, relishing the sensation of his hard length trapped between them. Taeyong’s hands roamed her curves, exploring the dips and valleys of her body, leaving trails of fire wherever they touched. Each grind sent ripples of pleasure coursing through them, pushing them closer and closer to the edge of their control.

“Y/n…” Taeyong breathed, his voice a mixture of desire and disbelief.

The way she moved against him drove him wild, and he couldn’t help but meet her rhythm, matching her every movement.

Y/n leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, “Don’t cream your pants, now,” The tease in her voice made his breath hitch, and he could only nod in response, words failing him.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, and she shifted her weight just right, eliciting a low groan from him. The connection between them felt electric, each thrust igniting a primal hunger that burned hotter by the second. Taeyong could feel the tension building, a storm of pleasure threatening to sweep them both away.

“God, you’re incredible,” he managed to say, pulling her closer as he relished the heat radiating from her body. “I don’t want this to end.”

Y/n’s mind raced with her own intentions, her body still moving against Taeyong’s with relentless desire. I need to finish this quickly, she thought, the thrill of the moment intermingling with her resolve. No need to overthink it, I just want to enjoy him one more time.

The taste of adrenaline surged through her veins as she considered how easily she could get lost in this, how intoxicating it was to have him beneath her, craving her every move.

But she reminded herself of her plan. I can’t let this drag on. Just one more encounter, one more taste of his lips, and then I’m out.

She locked eyes with him, feigning a smile as she continued to strandle him, savoring the way he gripped her hips. This is just for fun, a quick escape. I’ll let him think it’s something more for a night.

With that clarity in mind, she pushed herself closer to him, relishing the moment but keeping her goal firmly in focus. Just a bit more, and I’ll walk away without looking back.

Y/n grabbed the bottle of alcohol, her eyes glinting with mischief as she twisted off the cap. With a playful smile, she tilted the bottle toward Taeyong’s lips, watching as he instinctively opened his mouth to take it in.

“Drink up,” she teased, pouring the liquid in.

The alcohol flowed, but Taeyong struggled to swallow it all, some of it spilling down his cheek, glistening against his skin. He coughed slightly, laughter mixing with the sharpness of the alcohol as it slid down his throat.

“Damn, slow down!” he managed to gasp, eyes widening as he tried to keep up.

Y/n giggled, her heart racing at the sight of him, the combination of the alcohol and their earlier passion sending a thrill through her. “I just want to make sure you’re ready for what’s next,” she said, biting her lip playfully, savoring the chaos of the moment.

As the alcohol hit his system, Taeyong felt a warm rush spread through him almost immediately. The intensity of the drink was like a fire igniting in his belly, the world around him starting to blur at the edges. He blinked, trying to shake off the dizziness that threatened to pull him under, but it only made him more aware of Y/n’s presence hovering above him.

“Wow, that’s strong,” he said, his voice slightly slurred, a grin breaking across his face as he felt the familiar buzz of intoxication settle in.

The combination of the alcohol and the lingering heat from their previous encounter was intoxicating in itself, leaving him both exhilarated and lightheaded.

“Is it too much for you, Taeyong?” she teased, leaning in closer, her breath warm against his cheek. He chuckled, shaking his head, but the movement only added to the swirling sensation.

“Not at all,” he managed to reply, his tone playful despite the growing haze in his mind. “Just getting started.” But deep down, he realized how quickly the alcohol was taking effect, heightening every sensation and fueling the desire coursing through him.

Taeyong felt the world spinning around him, the alcohol mixing with something else that made his head feel heavy and light all at once. The warmth that had settled in his belly was now coursing through his veins, igniting every nerve ending and making his thoughts fuzzy. It was like a thick fog had rolled in, clouding his judgment just as Y/n hovered over him, her intent gaze locking onto his.

“Wow, you’re really going to town on me, huh?” he joked, though there was an edge of uncertainty in his voice. He attempted to reach up and grab her, but his arms felt heavy, sluggish, almost as if they were weighed down by lead.

Y/n simply laughed, her fingers deftly working on the buttons of his shirt, stripping him down inch by inch. He tried to protest, to voice his discomfort, but the words tumbled out in a slurred mess. "Hey, wait a minute..." he mumbled, but the sound barely registered in his own ears as she continued, her hands skillfully removing his clothing.

“Shh, just relax,” she purred, her voice smooth and inviting. The way she moved above him sent jolts of pleasure mixed with confusion coursing through his body. He couldn’t deny how intoxicating she was, and yet, a nagging feeling at the back of his mind told him he should be more cautious.

“Y/n…” he attempted again, but it came out as more of a breathy sigh. It was hard to think straight with her above him, her presence dominating his senses, each brush of her skin against his igniting a fire he couldn’t quite comprehend.

With every layer she peeled away, he felt more exposed, not just physically, but mentally. The alcohol had him feeling too vulnerable, and he struggled to push through the haze. But just as quickly as the concern came, it faded into the background as he succumbed to the moment, unable to deny the intoxicating allure of her body and the pleasure it promised.

Y/n took advantage of Taeyong’s dazed state, a sly smile playing on her lips as she continued her slow, methodical movements. His head lolled back against the pillow, and his usually sharp eyes looked unfocused, clouded with a mixture of desire and the effects of whatever she’d slipped him.

He was watching her, but it was as if he were seeing her through a fog, his body responding instinctively even as his mind struggled to keep up.

She leaned down, her lips trailing along his chest, her fingers tracing patterns on his skin. Taeyong let out a soft groan, shifting under her as his body reacted, all protests long forgotten. She felt him tense under her touch, his breath hitching when she moved lower, leaving a trail of heat with every kiss.

For a brief moment, he tried to lift his arms to pull her closer, but his muscles were weak, heavy. Instead, he surrendered, letting her take control. His half-lidded gaze flickered up to meet hers, clouded with both anticipation and vulnerability, unable to fully process the shift in power between them.

"Enjoying yourself?" she teased, her voice a soft purr as she hovered just above his ear.

Taeyong tried to respond, but the words came out slurred, barely intelligible. All he could do was watch her, entranced as she moved, his grip on reality slipping further.

Y/n slowly slid her underwear off, but kept her dress on, maintaining eye contact with Taeyong the entire time. She moved deliberately, savoring the look of anticipation mixed with his hazy intoxication. Once free from the fabric, she climbed on top of him, positioning herself above his hips.

His gaze darkened, trying to focus despite the lingering fog in his mind. She settled onto him, moving in a rhythm that made Taeyong's grip tighten around her hips as he tried to keep up, each movement drawing them deeper into the tension they both craved. His hands moved to steady her, his restraint slipping further with every movement.

With Taeyong caught completely under her control, did you envision her ultimate goal shifting in this dynamic, or does she still have the same plans?

Taeyong struggled to keep his eyes open, the potent mix of alcohol and raw pleasure flooding his senses. His hands gripped her hips weakly, only to slip away moments later, his strength wavering as he tried to steady himself.

Every time he thought he could ground himself, Y/n’s movements would send another shockwave through him, pulling him further under. His vision blurred as she leaned over him, her silhouette the only thing in focus. He tried to keep his hold, but his fingers kept sliding, his control slipping away with every second.

Between breaths, he managed to slur, “What…what did you do to me?”

Y/n leaned in closer, a smirk playing on her lips as she rode him with slow, teasing precision. She brought her mouth close to his ear, her voice a seductive murmur.

“Oh, come on, Taeyong,” she taunted, dragging out each word with a playful edge. She ground her hips, her core tightening around him. Taeyong couldn’t hold back the breathless gasp. “Can’t handle a little fun? You seemed pretty confident last night.”

She moved her hips in a way that made his breath hitch, pressing her nails lightly into his shoulders as she continued, “Just relax…let me take care of everything.”

Her words were a mix of taunt and promise, her steady rhythm pushing him closer to his limit, leaving him too lost in the haze to protest.

Taeyong felt the intensity build, his senses dulled yet heightened by the alcohol coursing through him. Each movement sent a shock of pleasure through his body, making it harder to hold on.

His grip on her hips tightened as he lost control, his breathing ragged and uneven. Y/n’s rhythm kept him teetering on the edge until he couldn’t hold back any longer, his release hitting him in a wave that left him breathless.

A deep groan escaped his lips as he rode out the high, every nerve alight under her relentless movement. His body shuddered beneath her, drained yet still reaching for the comfort of her warmth.

Taeyong felt the intensity build, his senses dulled yet heightened by the alcohol coursing through him. Each movement sent a shock of pleasure through his body, making it harder to hold on.

A deep groan escaped his lips as he rode out the high, every nerve alight under her relentless movement. His body shuddered beneath her, drained yet still reaching for the comfort of her warmth.

Y/n eased herself off Taeyong, careful and slow, savoring every last bit of their intimacy as she moved. She leaned down, pressing a kiss against his cheek, her lips soft against his skin, lingering there as she watched his expression change, still a little dazed, lost between sleep and wakefulness.

Her fingers trailed up, gently combing through his dark, messy hair, smoothing it back and taking her time with each stroke. She could feel the warmth radiating off him, his body still catching its breath, his skin warm and flushed.

Taeyong’s eyes, barely open, traced her face with a softened, heavy gaze, so different from his usual intensity. He blinked slowly, fighting to keep his focus on her, as if he didn’t want this moment to slip away. His hand reached out, fingers brushing her arm before they settled there, curling around her bicep in a light grip as if she were the only thing grounding him, keeping him in place.

“Stay…” he murmured, voice a low rasp, roughened from both exhaustion and lingering passion.

The word was so soft, it almost felt like a secret slipping from his lips, a vulnerability he’d never meant to reveal, exposed now under the weight of his fatigue. His fingers tightened around her arm, not enough to hold her back, but as though he needed that connection, that presence, to feel whole.

She felt a pang of something unexpected in her chest as she looked down at him. Her fingertips continued to stroke his hair, moving rhythmically, soothing him, though she herself felt a mixture of emotions bubbling inside.

She knew she’d made up her mind about this whole thing, knew she had planned to slip away after tonight, her reason for making it move fast. Yet something about the way he looked at her, the way he’d let himself be vulnerable in her presence, even now, threw her off balance.

Taeyong’s eyelids drooped further, each blink lasting a little longer than the last, his breathing slowing to a steady rhythm that resonated in the quiet room. His hand, once gripping her arm, began to relax, his fingers loosening as sleep pulled him under, though he still lingered there, holding her in his own way. His face softened, the sharp, guarded lines fading, replaced with a peacefulness that felt rare and private.

Y/n’s gaze traced his features as he drifted off, her fingertips still playing through his hair as his grip finally fell away. She kept herself close, even as he slipped into sleep, letting herself be part of that quietness, if only for a moment longer. She’d planned her exit, had expected to feel detached, but instead, she found herself lingering, held in place by something unspoken.

Y/n moved to the other side of the bed, sliding under the sheets and settling down beside him. The fabric felt cool against her skin, contrasting with the warmth radiating from Taeyong, who was still deep in slumber.

As she propped herself up on one elbow to study him, she couldn’t shake the feeling of lying to herself, of going against her own agenda. The thought nagged at her, like a whisper in the back of her mind, reminding her of the game she had been playing and the lines she had drawn.

It’s just for tonight, she thought to herself, a mantra that felt almost hollow. But she couldn’t ignore the excitement that fluttered in her chest at the intimacy of the moment. She’d used that same excuse the night before, and here she was again, drawn to him despite the reasons she had to keep her distance.

The room was dim, illuminated only by the soft light filtering through the curtains, creating an intimate atmosphere that felt almost surreal. She turned her gaze back to Taeyong, who lay sprawled across the bed.

His relaxed posture made him look vulnerable, a stark contrast to the powerful man she had encountered earlier. She found herself studying the way his lashes fluttered against his cheeks and how his lips, slightly parted, held a quiet allure.

It was a moment of stillness, one she hadn’t anticipated but couldn’t help but cherish. Y/n reached out, brushing a stray hair from his forehead, her fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary. There was something intoxicating about being this close to him, about sharing this space, and for the first time since they had met, she felt a wave of genuine affection wash over her.

But as quickly as the warmth spread, doubt crept in again. She had her reasons for keeping her distance, and the life she led was anything but stable. Yet, lying here next to him, she could almost convince herself that the chaos of their worlds didn’t matter, at least for this moment.

Y/n settled back onto the pillow, glancing at the clock on the nightstand. Time ticked away, each second reminding her that eventually, they would have to face the reality outside this bedroom. But for now, with Taeyong sleeping peacefully beside her, she allowed herself to indulge in the comfort of his presence, even if just for tonight.

Taeyong groaned softly as he slowly awakened to a cacophony of sounds, the faint rustling of fabric, the soft thud of footsteps on the floor, and the blaring light streaming through the curtains. Each noise seemed to reverberate in his skull, making his head pound even worse than it had the morning before. He blinked against the brightness, feeling nauseous as he rolled onto his back.

As he attempted to push through the fog of confusion and pain, his gaze landed on Y/n. She was standing by the door, her silhouette framed by the light behind her, looking like she was preparing to leave. The sight of her sent a jolt of energy through him, momentarily pushing aside the discomfort in his head.

“Y/n?” he croaked, his voice rough and thick with sleep.

The realization that she was slipping away filled him with an uncharacteristic anger, a surge of possessiveness that surprised even himself.

“I assume you were going to slip out without saying goodbye?” he said, his tone sharper than he intended.

The frustration and vulnerability from the night before clawed at him, and he struggled to keep his emotions in check as he propped himself up on one elbow, his heart racing at the thought of her leaving without a word.

Y/n paused, glancing back at him with wide eyes, the playful glint in her expression replaced by something more serious. “I didn’t want to wake you,” she replied, her voice soft but laced with defiance.

“Yeah, well, it looks like you didn’t need to,” he shot back, his irritation spilling over as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, trying to stand but immediately regretting it as the world spun around him. He staggered slightly, gripping the edge of the bed to steady himself.

“Seriously, you can’t just–” he continued, but the anger in his voice faltered as he caught her expression. There was a mix of surprise and guilt in her features, and for a moment, he wondered if he had crossed a line.

“I just…thought it would be easier this way,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper as she turned to face him fully.

Taeyong frowned, the pounding in his head momentarily forgotten. “Easier for who? You or me?” He searched her eyes, desperate for an answer, but all he found was uncertainty.

He hated how much he cared, how much he wanted her to stay, even after everything. The realization hit him hard, making his stomach churn even more.

“Look, can you just…can you just not fucking go?” he implored, feeling raw and exposed. “Can we at least talk about…whatever this is?”

Y/n hesitated, her expression softening as she considered his words. But the tension between them hung heavy in the air, both knowing that the situation was more complicated than either of them wanted to admit.

Y/n looked conflicted as she took a step back, her arms crossing over her chest defensively. “Taeyong, I really need to get to work. I need this job. I can’t afford to miss out on my shift today,” she said, her voice firm but tinged with uncertainty.

Taeyong’s irritation flared again, but it quickly shifted to a desperate urge to keep her there with him. He wasn’t ready for her to leave, not like this, not again.

“You don’t need to worry about that right now,” he insisted, rising to his feet despite the wave of dizziness that crashed over him. He felt unsteady, but the idea of her walking out the door pushed him to act.

Before she could respond, he grabbed a thick wad of cash from his bedside draws, feeling the crinkle of bills against his fingers. He stepped toward her, extending his hand to shove the money into her palm, his gaze intense.

“Take it,” he demanded, his voice low and almost pleading. “You can call in sick or whatever.”

The desperation laced in his tone was unmistakable, and he felt a flicker of vulnerability creep in, but he pushed it aside. This was not about pride, it was about keeping her with him for just a little while longer.

Y/n stared at the money in her hand, her expression shifting from surprise to disbelief. “Taeyong, you can’t just throw money at me and expect me to–”

“I’m not just throwing money at you!” he interrupted, taking a step closer, closing the distance between them. “I’m helping you out. Just accept it, okay?”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he pressed on, his eyes locking onto hers. “Please, Y/n. Just stay a little longer. I wanna talk.”

The sincerity in his voice seemed to resonate with her, and he could see the internal battle raging behind her eyes. Finally, she sighed, the tension in her shoulders easing just slightly. “Fine, but just for a bit. I can’t be late for my shift,” she relented, though her voice lacked the firmness it had earlier.

A wave of relief washed over him, and a smile broke through his earlier frustration. “That’s all I’m asking for,” he replied, feeling lighter. “Just a bit longer.”

“Okay,” she said, but her tone suggested she still felt conflicted about the whole situation.

“Now, come here,” Taeyong said, pulling her into his embrace, relishing the warmth of her body against his.

He felt a rush of satisfaction at having convinced her to stay, even if only for a little while. It was a temporary victory, but for now, he was willing to savor it.

“Let’s just enjoy the time we have together,” he murmured into her hair, feeling her relax against him.

As Y/n settled back into his embrace, a teasing smirk crept onto her lips. She pulled back slightly, arching an eyebrow at him. “You do realize you’re naked, right?” she said, her tone light but playful. “You might want to do something about that before you go throwing money around.”

Taeyong blinked at her, momentarily taken aback, then glanced down at himself. He chuckled, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Right, that’s kind of important, isn’t it?” He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks.

“Maybe you should consider a shower,” she suggested, her voice dripping with mischief. “I mean, I wouldn’t want you to scare anyone with that,” she added, gesturing to his state of undress.

Taeyong’s grin widened as he caught her playful tone. “A shower sounds perfect,” he replied, his mind racing with the possibilities of them sharing the space. “Want to join me?”

She feigned contemplation, putting a finger to her chin as if pondering the offer seriously. “Hmm, I suppose I could. Just think of all the water waste if I don’t,” she teased, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

“Exactly!” Taeyong exclaimed, his enthusiasm bubbling over. “We wouldn’t want to be irresponsible citizens, now would we?”

With a laugh, Y/n got to her feet, pulling him along as she headed toward the ensuite bathroom. The promise of warm water and shared intimacy hung in the air between them, igniting an eager anticipation.

As they stepped into the bathroom, Taeyong turned on the shower, the sound of water splashing against the tiles creating a soothing ambiance. He turned back to her, their eyes locking, and he could see the excitement dance in her gaze, she must have stripped down when he was turning on the shower.

“After you,” he said with a mock bow, gesturing for her to step inside first. She laughed and stepped into the cascading water, her hair glistening as droplets clung to her skin.

Taeyong followed closely behind, letting the warmth wash over him as he stepped into the shower. The steam began to envelop them, and he felt the tension from the night before melt away, replaced by the thrilling spark of their shared connection.

Y/n turned to face him, the water pooling around their feet, and he couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over her, taking in every detail. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him down into a wet kiss.

“Now this is how you start a morning,” she said with a grin, and he couldn’t agree more.

Later that morning, Johnny pulled the car up in front of Y/n’s workplace, his expression neutral yet amused as he glanced back at her through the rearview mirror. She gave him a small, appreciative smile, gathering her things before glancing over at Taeyong, who was sitting beside her.

Taeyong turned to her, a flicker of something reluctant in his eyes, though he quickly covered it with his usual smirk. “So,” he began, his tone light but laced with a touch of reluctance, “back to reality for now, huh?”

Y/n smiled, shrugging as if to mask her own hesitation. “Yeah, someone’s got to keep things running here,” she replied, trying to play off the moment.

Taeyong leaned closer, his fingers brushing her hand. “Alright, but don’t work too hard,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a low tone only meant for her. “I’d hate to think you’re tiring yourself out when we have unfinished business.”

A faint blush crept over her cheeks, but she tilted her head, playful defiance flashing in her eyes. “Oh? Maybe I’ll be the one waiting on you this time,” she countered, her voice equally low.

He chuckled, leaning back with a grin. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Y/n moved to open the door, but before stepping out, she looked back at him, her expression softening. “See you later, Taeyong. Bye, Johnny!” Johnny nodded to her as she exited.

“Yeah,” he replied, a genuine warmth in his tone as he met her gaze. “See you later, Y/n.”

As she closed the door and walked toward the entrance of her workplace, Taeyong watched her go, a mixture of satisfaction and something more unfamiliar tightening in his chest.

Johnny cleared his throat with a grin. “You’re hooked, aren’t you?”

“Drive,” Taeyong said with a smirk, brushing off Johnny’s remark as he watched her disappear inside. But as they pulled away, he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, Johnny wasn’t wrong.

As they drove away, Taeyong watched the door of the bakery until it faded from view. He leaned back against the seat, eyes lingering on where she’d been, and muttered, almost to himself, “I might just keep her.”

Johnny glanced over, his eyebrow raised with a smirk. “Keep her, huh? Sounds serious. You’re not falling for her, are you?”

Taeyong scoffed, shaking his head, though his gaze remained distant. “Falling for her?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes as if the thought were absurd. “Of course not.”

Johnny chuckled, leaning into the wheel a bit. “What ever you say then..”

Later that evening, Taeyong’s car pulled up outside the bakery just as the last few lights were dimmed inside. The “closed” sign hung on the door, and he watched as Y/n gathered her things, oblivious to his presence for the moment. She seemed more relaxed, chatting with a coworker as she locked up, a gentle smile playing at her lips that made something stir within him.

Taeyong got out of the car as she turned to leave, and her face lit up when she saw him.

“Surprise pick-up service?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as she approached him.

He leaned against the car, crossing his arms with a faint grin. “Thought I’d save you the walk. Besides,” he added, his gaze softening just slightly, “it’s been a long day. Figured you’d like the company.”

They climbed into the car, and as Johnny started driving, Taeyong glanced over at her. “How was work?”

She shrugged, pulling her seatbelt over her shoulder. “Busy, but good. Just the usual, bread orders, pastries, customers in a rush. You know how it is.”

He didn’t, not really, but he nodded anyway, pretending to understand the routine of a normal life. Her world was so different from his, yet somehow, it felt grounding to listen to her talk about it.

After a beat, she looked over at him with a soft smile. “Thanks for picking me up, Taeyong.”

He smirked. “You’ll owe me next time.”

Her laugh filled the car, and for a moment, his world felt almost…normal?

As the car wove through the streets, Y/n relaxed, expecting Taeyong to be taking her back to his place. But as the streets grew more familiar, she straightened, a slight frown creasing her brow.

The car turned down her street, and soon enough, they pulled up outside her apartment. Her gaze flicked between Johnny in the driver’s seat and Taeyong beside her, suspicion and surprise mingling in her eyes.

“How did you…” she trailed off, studying Taeyong with an expression caught somewhere between intrigue and unease. “How did you know where I live?”

Taeyong tilted his head, meeting her questioning look with a steady gaze. “You really think I wouldn’t know?” His tone was casual, but a smirk tugged at his lips. “I told you before, Y/n, I don’t like loose ends. Knowing things is…part of my line of work.”

Y/n shifted uneasily, her fingers tightening around her bag as her gaze lingered on the building she called home. She couldn’t shake the discomfort pooling in her stomach. The fact that he knew her address without ever asking was unsettling.

After a moment, she broke the silence. “So…this line of work you keep hinting at,” she started, her tone tentative but curious, “what exactly does it involve?”

Taeyong’s eyes met hers, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his gaze before he looked away, a faint smile playing at his lips. “It’s…complicated,” he replied, glancing out the window toward her apartment. “Maybe we should go inside. Easier to talk about it there.”

Her heart picked up its pace, a mix of apprehension and intrigue flooding her senses. She gave a slow nod, feeling herself pulled into his orbit yet again as she opened the door, the cool air outside a sharp contrast to the intensity lingering in the car. With Taeyong following close behind along with Johnny, they headed into her building, anticipation building with every step.

They sat across from each other at her small dining table, a stark contrast to the luxurious settings she’d been around him in before. Taeyong leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping idly on the table as he watched her.

Y/n noticed Johnny standing silently by the door, his gaze sharp and vigilant, as if he were there to shield Taeyong from any potential threat, even here.

Taeyong’s eyes met hers, and he finally broke the silence. “I’m not just anyone, Y/n. The life I lead...it’s different,” he started, his voice low and steady. “People call me a leader, a boss, though ‘mob boss’ is probably what most would say.”

She blinked, processing his words. Her mouth went dry as a realization took hold. “Like…Mafia?” she echoed, trying to keep her voice from wavering.

He nodded, his gaze unwavering. “My family, my business, it’s all part of something bigger. Something that operates outside what most people consider…legal.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she leaned back, absorbing the revelation. “And you just…do this?” she asked, unsure if she wanted the answer.

Taeyong’s expression softened, a shadow of something, perhaps regret, perhaps pride, passing over his face. “Well, yes.” He glanced down, then back at her. “I understand if this changes things for you.”

Y/n took a steadying breath, glancing over at Johnny, who hadn’t moved an inch. She looked back at Taeyong, trying to make sense of the man who was so gentle with her, yet led a life steeped in danger. “So…what does that mean for us?”

Taeyong leaned forward, a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Exactly the topic I wanted to talk about.”

Y/n’s eyes stayed locked on his, her pulse quickening.

“Yes, right. I’d like us to be some sort of mutually beneficial agreement,” he continued, his tone calm yet purposeful. “Now, let’s talk about how often we’ll be able to see each other.” He said, not even giving her time to put her own thoughts forward.

He glanced down, almost as if gathering his thoughts. “In my line of work, I’m quite busy, and I can’t promise I’ll be around all the time. But…I’d like to arrange to see you once a week at the very least. A dedicated time, just for us.”

She nodded slowly, his words sinking in.

He held her gaze, his expression softening a fraction. “And…I was also wondering what you thought about being exclusive to each other?” His voice was low, almost tentative, as if testing the waters. “I don’t really have time for multiple partners. So, I’d like it if we kept things between us only. Would you be okay with that?”

Y/n blinked, surprised at the sincerity in his eyes, a softness she hadn’t expected. After a brief pause, nodding slowly.

Taeyong clapped his hands together, the sound echoing in the small dining area as he stood up with an air of finality, as if he were exiting a business meeting. “Good, glad we got that sorted,” he said, a slight grin on his face. “But I’ve got to go now, places to be.”

He adjusted his jacket, looking around the modest space before meeting Y/n’s gaze again. “I shall call your phone when I have the time.”

With that, he turned towards the door, glancing back at her one last time, his expression a mix of confidence and something softer. As he stepped out into the hallway, he felt a strange sense of anticipation for the next time they would meet.

As Taeyong opened the door, Johnny stepped aside with a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “See you later, Y/n,” he said, his voice light and friendly.

“Bye, Johnny,” she replied, still feeling out of it from the whole ordeal.

The door closed behind them, the soft click echoing in the quiet of her apartment. Y/n leaned back against it, her heart racing as she processed what had just happened.

What did I just get myself into? A wave of anxiety washed over her, making her heart race. The reality of Taeyong’s world settled heavily in her chest, dangerous and unpredictable, filled with shadows she couldn't quite grasp.

She glanced around her small apartment, feeling the walls closing in, and the thrill she had felt moments before began to dissipate, replaced by a nagging worry. She knew that in reality, who he was would be the least of her problems, but her own plan that might blow this all to bits.

A/N: Daymn, was not expecting this fic to be thing long, but here we are, lol, I was just gonna do one whole part, but apparently tumblr has a limit, and I reached that limit, so had to split it into not two, but THREE different parts...oops I hope you enjoyed this fic and will read the other two parts, thank you 💚

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wileys-russo · 1 year ago

Note

stina blackstenius, “you look like you need a hug”, locker room 🫶🏼

stina blackstenius

you groaned as once again your body was driven into the ground, head slumping down with a deep sigh as katies cackle echoed through the air.

"go on, up we get!" the irish woman grabbed your hands and tugged you back to your feet. "can i have a new partner? please!" you begged as the girl grinned and slapped your back.

"you love it! come on a couple falls are good for ya, they'll build up your strength." she ruffled your hair as the two of you returned to your starting cones. "or you could just tackle me not like a rugby player!" you warned as the training staff chuckled, holding up the ball again.

"nah, no fun in that." katie smirked as you both crouched, eyes locked on the trainer who counted down from five. "one!" with that the ball was launched into the air and you both sprinted for it, a slight gust of wind meaning it fell to your feet.

katie bore her teeth at you with a wicked grin as you tried to dribble around her, taking a leaf out of her book and ramming your elbow into her hip as she slipped over with a grunt and you finally made it past her slotting the ball through the cones.

"yes!" you pumped your fists in victory as the rain started to fall and katie groaned in annoyance, standing up to her feet. "again." she ordered as the two of you returned to your starting positions, the trainer tugging her hood over her head.

"one!"

you both made a mad dash for the ball again and filled with a newfound confidence you gained first touch, faking left and tapping the ball through katies legs, watching as it rolled through the cones again and the rain came down harder.

"yes!" you cheered again, the wind knocked out of you as suddenly you were back down on the ground again as the whistle blew to signal training was over and most of the girls sprinted inside.

"get off me!" you groaned as katie sat on top of you, the rain pouring down and getting heavier by the minute. "ya cheated!" katie accused as you tried to push her off, rolling out from under her.

"no, you lost." you flipped her off and sprinted inside, katies laughter following after you as you both finally made it out of the rain, pushing each other around as you headed for the locker room.

"ya got lucky." katie ruffled your hair and wandered over to her cubby as you made your way to yours, your girlfriend sat in her own on your left. with her ankle giving out yesterday she'd only been allowed in the gym today, so she looked on in amusement at your drenched and disheveled state.

"you look like you had fun älskling." stina chuckled, already wrapped up in a hoodie and sweats ready to head home for the day.

"you look like you could use a hug." you grinned, the blondes eyes widening as you collapsed into her, sitting on her lap and squeezing her tightly pressing your wet form against hers.

"no no no come on!" stina groaned as you rubbed your wet hair against her, finally letting go and standing back to your feet, laughing at the wet patches all over her.

"i think we should shower baby, get you into some dry clothes." you teased holding out your hand as the swede sent you a murderous glare, stripping off her hoodie and taking your hand none the less.

you pulled her with you into the bathrooms, stepping into one of the shower cubicles and drawing the curtain, your girlfriends taller form pressing you against the wall as her lips began to trail kisses down your neck.

"see i knew you needed a hug."

#woso x reader #woso #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso fanfics #stina blackstenius x reader #stina blackstenius #woso community

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absurdthirst · 1 year ago

Text

The Dornish Sun {Oberyn Martell x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 18.1k

Warnings: Step Uncle/Niece relationship, slight age gap, fingering, oral sex (female and male receiving), loss of virginity, pregnancy, childbirth, angst, infidelity, heartbreak, war, murder, rape, threesomes, mff relationship, poisoning, revenge

Comments: Of course a love story with Oberyn Martell would be tumultuous. Especially when the Seven Kingdoms is in chaos and the Baratheon rebellion breaks out.

A/N: You know that scene in HOTD where Rhaenyra leaves her birthing bed to take the baby to see the Queen? That completely inspired this.

🚨🚨DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT - this story contains canonical events including murder and rape (Elia Martell)🚨🚨

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Oberyn Martell MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Doran Martell married your mother and took you as his own daughter when you were eight years old. Carrying you away from the moldering estates you were born on and you had finished growing up in the castle at Sunspear and then later the Water Gardens when your father had grown too ill to stay in the steeply staircased fortress with his wheelchair.

The day you met Oberyn, his youngest sibling and only brother, you had fallen in love. His chiseled jaw, uncaring demeanor and his delight in allowing you to follow him around had created a painful crush for you, your cheeks heating to near flames when he had picked you up as a towering teenager of fourteen. He was your handsome red viper as you heard others call him and you had decided then and there that one day, you would marry Oberyn and become his princess.

When you were a woman grown, your crush had not waned. Growing even deeper and embedding in your heart to where no one but Oberyn would do, you argued with your papa that you should be aligned with the second born heir to House Martell, solidifying your place in the family and your own succession if Arianne did not wish to take over when your father passed. It did not help that you could tell Oberyn wanted you, his eyes following you as you went about your duties, the small smirk on his lips far from familial affection.

“Give me one reason, a good reason why I cannot marry for love?” You ask, your jaw set in stubborn determination as you look over at your father, the subject of husbands ones that you are tired of talking about. You do not want any of the men your father has suggested would make good husbands. “You married mother for love.”

Doran sighs, rubbing his cheek, “that was different. Your mother…Oberyn is your uncle.” Doran argues and you shake your head.

“We are not blood. He is my uncle in name only.” You counter. Your own lord father had passed when you were aged six, meaning your mother was eligible to marry Doran and thus you have younger half siblings.

“It will not look good to our enemies. Allowing my daughter to marry my brother…they will cry out in protest.” Doran argues and you scoff.

“Like the Lannister rumors aren’t worse?” You argue and Doran shakes his head.

“I do not care about the Lannisters. You are my daughter and you shall marry to help our alliances. A lord from the North, a Stark, has asked for your hand. You will be marrying him.”

“I do not want to leave Dorne.” You frown, unable to even imagine living in the cold north with those joyless Starks. Duty and winter coming are all they care about, you had not been impressed when you had met them two years ago when Ned Stark and another had traveled to Dorne to speak with your father. “I wish to feel the sun on my skin, the sand under my feet. I belong here.”

“You belong where I tell you that you belong. You will marry the Stark boy. You will allow our alliances to continue and you will do your duty. Seven hells, I saved you and your mother from a destitute life and you shall repay me for that.” Doran’s tone is final, no longer the loving father you’ve come to adore, no, he’s a prince. A leader.

You hiss in anger, pushing away from the table with a loud screech from your chair and rushing away. Heartbroken and angry that your father would condemn you to a fate that in your mind is worse than death. Running through the halls towards the gardens, your slippers are silent on the stone floors and your floating dress flaps behind you. You will not marry a Stark, you will not.

Oberyn is walking down the hallway when he sees you running. He reaches out to stop you, his hands on your shoulders. “My sun, why are you running? Surely my brother has not been so cruel as to make you run away from the beautiful gardens?” He coos, cupping your cheeks when you look at him, tears in your eyes.

“Father is sending me to Winterfell.” You close your eyes and the tears slip down your cheek. “I am to be wed to a Stark, to live my days in the snows of the North where the sun freezes.” You swallow and open your eyes again, looking into his dark orbs. “I - I do not want to wed into that house. I wish to stay here, with you - and father.”

The look in Oberyn's eyes is harsh, soft gaze turns to steel as he imagines you in Winterfell, belonging to another man. No, he won't allow it. Despite his brother's urges that he should find a bride, Oberyn has been unable to move on from you. You - you are his niece by name but not by blood yet the guilt of wanting you, of loving you, has never waned. However, to imagine you with another...it's more than Oberyn can take. "Come with me to my rooms, we shall drink some wine and discuss what can be done to change my brother's mind." He cups your cheek before taking your hand, eager to guide you to his chambers.

You follow him willingly and will follow him anywhere. His exile several years ago had been hard to deal with and you had often come to his chambers to sleep while he was gone, the servants finding you asleep in his bed. Now, you spend less time with him since you are a lady, your father wanting you to appear more mature for your station and years. Despite the lax nature of Dorne compared to the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, you are still under scrutiny.

“Oberyn.” He squeezes your hand and you fall silent, entering the large bedchamber and watching as he lets go of your hand to walk over to the pitcher of wine that is ever present on a table along with his favored berries.

Oberyn pours you a glass, handing you the goblet before repeating the action for himself. “Sit.” He orders, pointing to the loveseat and he brings you the wine and sits down beside you. “Tell me why you do not wish to marry a Stark.” He wants to hear you say what he suspects but he won’t show his hand just yet.

Looking away, you take a sip of your wine. It would be better if you were a man and could be expected to speak plainly about such things. Even here you were not supposed to acknowledge the ache you have for a man, not while still being innocent. “Ned Stark is boring.” You whisper. “Too self righteous and I-“ you pause, glancing at your handsome uncle by marriage before you look down at your cup. “I love another.”

Oberyn isn’t dumb. He’s seen the way you look at him and he knows he should say no, that it’s foolish for you to want him…but he can’t. Not when he feels the same. He was exiled, returned home to no one but you. You talked to him, you listened to his stories and he fell in love with his niece by marriage. “Marriage is not always about love, my sun. Marriages are for alliances. Political purposes. Do you wish to put your father at a disadvantage for love? Is this love too great to ignore in favor of your duty?” He asks, having asked himself that same question many times when Doran tried to marry him off but he is far too stubborn.

“What about my duty to my own heart?” You shake your head, dismayed because you thought of all people - Oberyn would understand. “I would not be a good wife to a man I could not endure. How would I lay in his bed, under his rutting body and bear his children?” You bite your lip, sighing and lifting your cup to your lips again. “My father has other alliances, other deals he can make. My heart shouldn’t be a bartering tool.”

Oberyn’s cock twitches at the thought of you beneath him and the jealousy he feels at the thought of someone else touching you, having you. It makes his jaw clench. “You would rather have passion? A husband who wants to make you shake with pleasure? A man who will suck on your nipples until you are dripping wet, his fingers finding your bundle of nerves, making you moan until he buries his tongue deep into your cunt, working your tight heat until you nearly drown him. A man who will slide his cock into you with the aim to make you cum, make you clench around his length until your thighs are shaking, instead of purely to get you pregnant. Is that what you want, my sun?” He leans closer, his breath washing over your face.

You whimper pitifully at the vivid imagery he creates with his words. Breath hitching and you inhale the sweet scent of wine and berries from his too close mouth. Your eyes flit down, tracing the angel’s kiss on his lower lip and your tongue slides out to wet your own, having wanted to trace his lips so often that you swear you have done it before. You can barely look back up into his own dark eyes and you swear you see lust in their depths. “Yes.” You whisper, nodding and pressing your thighs together to quell the ache there. “I want y- that.”

Oberyn leans even closer, reaching for the goblet so he can set them both down on the table nearby. You exhale shakily as he moves away from you, heart pounding and you are upset he doesn’t want you, tears stinging in your eyes. Oberyn takes a moment, knowing this will change everything but he can’t hold back anymore. He wants you. He turns back, seeing the way your eyes avoid his and he tuts, surging forward to press his lips to yours but before he says “I want you, my sun.”

Melting into him, you moan into the kiss, allowing him to take over completely. Clinging to the edges of his robe, your entire body lights up with the glorious knowledge that Oberyn wants you. “Have me.” You beg when he kisses along your jaw. “I am yours.” You know you shouldn’t, that you should pull away but you don’t think about that. Too caught up in your dream coming true to act rationally.

Oberyn should pull back, he definitely shouldn't go any further than this but fuck, he has been keeping away for so long, it feels physically painful to pull back from you in this moment. His tongue slides into your mouth and he reaches for you to pull you into his lap, his breath mingling with yours as he methodically tugs on the strings that keep your robes in place.

You aren’t completely innocent. You know the reputation Oberyn has started to cultivate. It was one of the reasons why he was exiled for that dark time when you were younger. He has had lovers and yet you do not hesitate when you feel the warm air from the open windows on your skin. Your nipples are hard from need and you let him unlace your dress and strip you down with an eagerness that can’t be contained as you run your hands along his broad shoulders and slip them under the light linen brocade to touch his heated skin.

Your touch ignites something in him and he grabs your thighs, lifting you up as he stands and he throws you onto his bed. Shrugging off his robe to expose his chest and upper arms before he strides over to hover over you. “You have no idea, my sun, how many times I imagined seeing these tits.” He groans, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth.

Gasping out his name, your eyes close in pleasure. Fingers digging into the silk sheets on his bed and twisting them in your hands while he sucks at your breast. The wet heat of his mouth is deliriously good and yet you want more, your dress pooled at your hips and you want to be bare underneath him. “P-please.” You beg, arching your back to offer yourself to him.

Oberyn isn’t in a rush, especially since he knows you are innocent. “Patience.” He tuts as he lifts up to switch to your other breast, leaning down to take it into his mouth, his dark eyes focusing on you while his hands caress your waist, one coming up to squeeze the breast he just abandoned.

You whimper, biting your lip and trying to just let yourself experience his touch. To not beg for more than he is wanting to give you right now. Your legs shift, thighs pressing together and you take advantage of him without his shirt. You had spent so much of your day drooling over his practices in the courtyards while shirtless and you touch his broad shoulders and back with a happy moan while he bites down on your nipple.

Oberyn tuts, reaching for your thighs to push them apart so he can press his body against yours, his cock hardening under his robes. He kisses your clavicle, up your neck until his body covers yours. “So eager, aren’t you? You want more?” He teases, pressing feather-like kisses to your jaw while his fingers slide under your gown, caressing your thigh.

“Yes. Please, more.” You whine, enjoying the way that his chest drags against your wet breasts. Your cunt clenches at the hardness that he is slowly grinding against you. “Oberyn.” You are in heaven right now, this is what you have always imagined and your nails drag down his back and you grab his ass in the leather breeches he is wearing, suddenly bolder than an innocent virgin should be. There is no fear, only want and need right now.

Oberyn chuckles at your eagerness, his fingers sliding higher until he finds your wet cunt, covered by the curls. “Mmm. So wet.” He groans softly, sliding his fingers through your folds a couple of times until he rubs your clit. “You’re so beautiful, my sun. Always - always imagined this.” He admits, knowing he’s tugged on his cock far too many times thinking about you recently. Or had another around him while he imagined it was you.

“I love you.” Your confession slips out unprompted, but you do. It has always been Oberyn since you have laid eyes on him. It will always be him. Your eyes close again and you let out a low moan while he rubs your clit as if he had done it a thousand times before. It was not like you hadn’t touched yourself before but it was so much more pleasurable with his fingers.

Your confession makes his heart thump in his chest and he knows you didn’t say it for him to say it back, you said it because it’s true. His fingers continue working your clit and he presses his lips back to yours, sliding his hand lower so he can push a finger into your tight cunt.

Gasping in delight and pleasure, your walls stretch around him, the thick finger curling up into your cunt. Grinding down on his hand wantonly, you know that this will be perfect. He is skilled and you love him, your walls clamping down around his finger while you turn your head to nip his jaw with your teeth like you have imagined doing a thousand times. You want to mark him, claim him as your own.

Oberyn groans softly at your nip, “my little sun has fire.” He chuckles, adding another finger as he pushes the digits inside of you. He wants you to feel only pleasure so he wants you dripping down his wrist. His thumb presses against your clit while his lips find yours again.

Whimpering against his neck, your arm tightens around him while he curls his fingers up. Taken beyond what you had ever been able to do yourself, you feel your legs start to shake while that tension builds up in your core. Hips meeting the thrust of his fingers on their own, your moans are uninhibited and you don’t care who would hear you beyond his doors.

Oberyn groans when your walls clamp down on his fingers when he presses his thumb against your clit a little harder, sending you over the edge. “So good, my sun. Can’t wait to be inside of you.” He murmurs, working you through it and he is determined to taste you too before he takes your innocence.

You cry out, back arching and colors burst behind your eyelids as pleasure courses through your body. “O-Oberyn!” You cling to him, shuddering and shaking underneath his touch. He keeps curling his fingers as he works you through it until you are panting out, completely wrung out.

Oberyn groans your name, loving the way you shake and the way you are already so spent. He chuckles, kissing your jaw and he shifts to kneel between your thighs, working on removing the rest of your gown so he can see all of you. “I want to see you, my sun. I want you bare. Mind, body, and soul.”

Lifting your hips, you have no shame as Oberyn strips you down to your skin. Laying in his bed as the evening rays of light shine through the slates covering his windows, you feel like this is where you are supposed to be. Watching as he rocks back onto his knees and looks down at your nude, virginal body. “I am yours.” You whisper, meaning every word.

Oberyn offers you a soft smile, nodding in understanding, and he caresses your calf before he shifts off of the bed to push his breeches down, releasing his aching cock from its confines. He desperately wants to slide into you but he can’t, he wants to taste you first.

You had not expected his mouth. When you had seen his cock, your leg had spread in anticipation of him climbing between them. Of feeling him deep inside you. Instead you gasp when his shoulders push your legs wider, his chuckle filthy when he winks at you and lowers his mouth to your dripping cunt to lick a long stripe through your folds. “Gods!” You cry out, head tilting back and fingers tangling into the silk sheets again.

Oberyn’s tongue is eager, sliding deeper inside of you and his nose presses against your clit. His fingers dig into your thighs, pushing them back towards your stomach so his tongue can slide deeper into your cunt. “You taste so good.” He smacks his lips as he pulls back for a moment before he dives back in.

If his fingers were magical, his tongue is even more so. Curling deep inside you to make you squirm before he is pulling out and flicking it against your clit, pulling another gasp out of you. Lewdly learning your body in a way that you had heard of but never imagined would be as good as it is. Quickly feeling your stomach clenching as he lashes your clit again and again with his tongue and pushing you towards another orgasm.

Your thighs start to shake and press against his head and he knows you are close. He wants you to cum so he continues lashing your clit, sucking and licking until his jaw hurts and when you cry out, he buries his tongue into your walls, wanting to feel them flutter.

It was even better than your first orgasm. The rush of heat flooding your cunt makes him moan and you whimper at the way that he is eager to taste all of you, his tongue dipping back inside you. Your thighs try to close around his head but they can’t at his mercy until you are crying out again and shoving weakly at his shoulder to move him away.

Oberyn doesn’t move away right away, he smacks his lips, kissing your clit and chuckling at the way you whine so he backs off, kneeling between your legs and wrapping his fingers around his aching cock. “My sun, are you certain that this is what you want?” He asks, wanting to make sure you want him to take your innocence.

“I have loved you since I was a child, Oberyn.” Your eyes greedily stare at him, drinking in how perfect he looks hard and wanting you. You are not scared of his length or size, knowing that he was going to fit perfectly inside you as he slowly strokes himself. “I am sure that I want nothing more than for you to take my innocence.”

Oberyn nods, certain that he wants you, he has wanted you since your eight and ten name day, knowing you were a woman had shone a new light on you and he has wanted you ever since. “Tell me if it hurts. It will hurt to begin with but we will go slow.” He promises, shifting closer until he can notch his cock at your entrance, slowly pushing into you.

Your soft cry is mixed with tears as he fills you, but they are ones of joy. Lashes fluttering as you feel the weight of him starting to settle over your body and his cock butting up against the thin barrier of your innocence. His lips press against yours before he pushes through the thin barrier of your innocence and hums at the way your body locks up around him.

Oberyn leans closer to kiss away your tears, his heart pounding in his chest as he looks at your beautiful face. “Are you okay, my sun?” He asks, not moving while you adjust to his cock inside of you. You’re so hot, so tight, so wet, it’s hard to maintain control but he will.

“Perfect.” It’s a struggle to keep your eyes open but you want to see him. Reaching up and caressing his sharp cheek while he holds still over you. Wanting to commit this to memory since it is the perfect moment. “Move, my prince.” You beg him softly. “I want to feel every inch of you.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He starts to move, his dark eyes focused on you in case there’s any pain but all he sees is love in your eyes. It makes his heart twist. He shifts, resting his weight on his elbows so he can bury his face in your neck, kissing along it and breathing you in.

Every push of his hips makes you moan, your arms winding around his neck and your legs coming up to rest on his hips. He feels amazing and you don’t have any of the discomfort that you had secretly worried about with a husband. Oberyn is perfect and the love you have makes it even better. “Oh Gods, Obeyrn.” You whimper. “It’s so- so good.”

Your whimper spurs him on to make you cum. His arms sliding under you to pull you closer and his hips rock into you, hitting the back of your thighs. “So beautiful. So perfect.” His voice is raspy and he is desperate for you to cum for him one more time.

It is everything that you want, loving how he is starting to move steadily. Closing your eyes and moaning as he fills you again and again with the heavy stroke of his cock. Pushing you towards exquisite pleasure every time he touches deep inside you. “Oberyn.” You whimper softly.

“That’s it, my love. Cum for me. Please. Cum for me.” He grunts, pushing into you and dropping his hips so the coarse hair at the base of his cock brushes against your clit. You cry out and he knows he got the right angle. “Cum for me. Soak my cock, my sun.” He orders, kissing your neck as his breath is heavy in your ear.

When you go over the edge, your cry fills his ear. Giving into his order and your body shakes underneath him while you go exactly what he orders you to do. Soaking his cock in a hot rush of cum that sounds loud when he pushes through the resistance of your fluttering walls.

“Fuck.” Oberyn curses at how you soak him, gripping his cock in a vice but he can’t stop himself. He should pull out but the thought of filling you up, putting his seed inside of you and potentially his child has him falling over the edge within a half dozen thrusts. “Fuck!” He growls, pushing his cock deep as he cums, groaning your name while he paints your walls.

You whimper in delight at the warmth of his seed inside you. You know it is risky but you don’t care, moaning softly and stroking his back lightly while he continues to rock his hips as he rides out his high. Relaxing back into the bed when he is done and you can’t help but give a slight giggle, completely worn out by your new lover. “Wow.”

Oberyn chuckles at your reaction, glad you enjoyed it. He certainly did. “I love you, my sun.” He murmurs, lifting his head to look into your eyes. It’s true, he adores you, always has, and he has loved you since you blossomed into a woman. He kisses you, slow and deeply, his tongue sliding against yours.

You lean into the kiss, enjoying the intimacy of it while he licks into your mouth. Your fingers tangle into the hair at the nap of his neck and you sigh happily, knowing that you have gotten your wish and you will cherish it forever. When he pulls back you smile up at him. “Thank you, Oberyn. I love you.”

Oberyn caresses your cheek. “Let’s move you over and you can get some rest. You must be exhausted, my love.” He brushes his thumb over your cheekbone, “I love you too. Sleep. When you awaken, we will feast on fruits and cheese, I’ll send for some more wine.” He tells you, brushing your hair back.

Having sex for the first time is surprisingly exhausting. Turning over and curling up against the pillow that Oberyn sleeps on has your eyes fluttering closed within minutes. It doesn’t hurt that he is stroking your hair and shoulder, relaxing you more than you thought it would as you drift off to sleep with a smile on your face.

Oberyn caresses you until you are asleep, then he carefully, so carefully, tugs on the sheet beneath you, easing it out from under you before he redresses. Striding down the hall, he has the sheet folded up when he enters his brother’s chambers. “Oberyn? What are you doing here?” Doran asks, a weary smile on his face for his younger brother. He loves him but he is exhausting.

“Let me marry her.” He says, chin pointed in defiance as he awaits his brother’s response.

Doran sighs and runs his hand down his face, looking over to the door as if he expects you to peek around the corner like you had when you were a child. Obviously you had run to Oberyn but he was surprised that his younger brother was entertaining your notion of love. “She will wed Ned Stark.” He tells his brother. “You will choose a wife now? After all this time?” Oberyn had always scoffed at the idea of marriage, unless he was ordered to by his brother and Doran loved him enough that he hadn’t had the heart.

Oberyn nods his head, “I will choose a wife. I choose her.” He declares.

Doran sighs, “you are going to send me to an early grave, dear brother. She is promised to Ned Stark.”

Oberyn chuckles, shaking his head. “A man as noble as Ned Stark would surely want his lady wife to be pure. To not provide him with a Dornish man’s bastard.”

Doran narrows his eyes, growing suspicious. “Oberyn…what did you do?” He hisses and Oberyn takes the sheet from behind his back, opening it to display the blood on the sheets.

“Your darling daughter’s innocence…displayed on my sheets.”

“Gods be cursed!” There is a book in Doran’s lap that is quickly hurled at Oberyn, who merely ducks it. If his mobility has not seriously deteriorated over the last year, he would challenge the boy who had been the baby of the family. “You ruined her! For what? Your pride? Another conquest? You could have all the whores in the Seven Kingdom and you chose to make my daughter - your niece - your next whore?” Doran shouts, apoplectic with rage. Oberyn is not a liar, if he said he took your innocence, then that is what is staining his sheet. “Did you fill her?”

Oberyn nods, “I did. You do not wish for Ned Stark to be saddled with my bastard, do you? It will not shine well on Dorne. Dear brother, she loves me. She wants to be mine.”

Doran shakes his head, “she doesn’t know what she wants! She is a child!” Doran growls.

“She is a woman. You have to accept that. She knows her own mind, her own heart. She loves me. I - I love her. Marry her to me. No one need know of her predicament. We can protect her. A royal wedding will please the people. Brother, she is ruined if you send her north. We are ruined.”

Doran shakes his head, dismayed and yet there is truth to his words. “You will hurt her.” He predicts sadly, sighing. “Your selfishness has ruined my daughter and our chance to align with the Starks.” He turns his head and stares out the window for a moment before his shoulders slump in defeat. What’s done is done. “You will marry her before your bastard is showing in her belly.” He decides finally in a tired voice.

****

“You may now kiss your bride.” The priest tells Oberyn who grins, surging forward to kiss you while you are covered by the Martell cloak. His fingers caress your cheeks and you smile against his lips, unable to believe he is your husband. The crowd erupts in applause, the wedding pulled together quickly to account for the babe in your belly. One time was all it took to get you pregnant…perhaps. Oberyn has indulged in his betrothed many times before today. Still, you are with child. His child. So it was best to have a swift wedding. “I love you.” He murmurs when he pulls back.

“I love you, husband.” You are beaming with pride as the two of you turn to face the people gathered. Your father’s eyes are less than pleased but he plasters a smile on his face for the sake of the occasion. “Now we have nothing to worry about.” You murmur softly, aware that the raven had been sent to Winterfell concerning your engagement to Oberyn. Rumor had it that Ned Stark had already secured another bride. Catelyn Tully would be a good match for him.

Oberyn grins, pleased at his new bride, and he guides you through the crowd to the private room reserved for you both during the celebrations. “My sun, you look gorgeous. Edible. A gift from the gods.” He leans forward to press his lips to yours, pushing the cloak off of your shoulders so he can grab your ass through your beautiful sun embroidered gown.

“Husband.” You moan, delighted at being able to use that title with Oberyn now. Since that night he had taken you to bed, you’ve discovered how much you enjoy touching him, fucking him. Learning how he likes to have his cock sucked and how he delights in having you act like the sexual creature you are and not hide your lust for him. “I need you inside me.” You whimper, reaching between you to cup his hardening cock beneath his robe. “Since there is no bedding ceremony, I want to dance with you dripping your seed.”

Oberyn hisses in delight at your words. So naughty and he knows he will want to lick it out of you later. Guiding you back towards the wall, he presses you against it and slides his hand under your gown, fingers quickly finding your clit. “Did getting married make you this wet, my sun? Did it turn you on becoming my wife?” He teases and kisses along your neck.

“Yes.” You pant, closing your eyes and moaning as he slides two fingers inside your wet cunt. “I am yours.” Those words were never more true than right now, reaching into his breeches and wrapping your fingers around to him slowly start pumping him just like he taught you. “Tonight- after other are asleep, I want to suck your cock while you are seated in the grand hall.” The wedding had been performed at Sunspear, the seat of power and Oberyn often acted in your father’s stead. You want to suck his cock while he sits on the Lord’s cushion and pleasure him.

“Naughty girl.” He teases and his cock twitches in your grip, “wanting to desecrate your father’s throne because you are so hungry for cock. I love it. I love you.” Oberyn growls, leaning closer to press his lips against yours. “Wanting to please your husband. It’s beautiful. I want to please you too but right now, I want to fuck you.” He withdraws his fingers, pulling your hand from his breeches and he pulls his cock out. Pressing you up against the wall even more, he gathers your gown and lifts your leg to notch on his hip. “Gonna make my bride cum.” He promises, pushing his cock into you with a low groan.”

Your head bumps back against the wall and you moan out his name. Your condition makes you eager and sensitive. “Oh fuck, Oberyn.” You whimper, looping your arms around his neck and grinding your pelvis down as he starts to move. “Fuck your wife,” you beg, loving how that sounds. “Please make me scream your name for all the guests to hear.”

The smirk on Oberyn’s face is wicked as he attempts to follow through on that challenge. “Yeah? My beautiful bride wants to cum so hard, she lets everyone out there know she’s no longer innocent? They will know tonight you’ve experienced a cock buried deep inside of you. They will know that I’ve spilled inside of you. Our babe shall be born early according to them but we will always know that my naughty wife wanted my cock before it was deemed appropriate.” He chuckles, kissing along your neck as his hips slam against yours.

You cry out, loving how wickedly he looks at things. It’s perfect, he’s perfect. Clinging to him while he drives into you over and over again. His mouth devours yours before he kisses along your throat and nips to make you gasp and clench around him. You know about the bastards he has, both girls. You can’t help but know about them since they live here. You love them as if they were your own. “Your next babe. Maybe a son.” You whimper when his cock pushes up against that sweet little spot inside you.

“My beautiful wife is going to provide me an heir? Fulfill her duty?” He hums. You know he hates the societal standards imposed but he is playful and you know he doesn’t care about a boy or a girl. He wants a healthy child. His fingers dig into your thigh, “a beautiful son. My beautiful wife gives me a son.” He muses with panting breaths. “I want my wife to cum. Squeal so loud they all know I am inside of you.”

It’s not hard to do, Oberyn is an amazing lover and you know you are lucky to have a man be concerned with your pleasure. “Obe-Oberyn!” You cry out as he cock continues to hammer against that spot over and over again until your toes are curling and you are squealing just like he ordered you to, your cum soaking his length and dripping down his thighs.

You squeezing his cunt has him groaning, kissing along your neck, and he thrusts a few more times before he buries his cock deep. Knowing you are his, his wife, the mother of his third child, has him cumming quickly. “Fuck.” He growls, painting your walls with his seed as he presses you further into the wall.

A few moments and lazy kisses later, Oberyn is pulling back, your leg lowering to the floor and your dress falling back into place. “Always so good.” You pant quietly, giving a small giggle of happiness as you catch sight of the beautiful gold ring he had put on your finger. The chain around your neck carries the symbol of the house Martell and declares you a princess. Which you had already been before, but now it is as a wife rather than an adoptive daughter.

****

“Push, princess!” The maester orders while your hand maids wipe your sweaty brow. The baby is coming, one more push and your baby is born. Yet Oberyn is nowhere to be found. No one has been able to alert him of the birth and the labors were quick despite this being your first. You scream as you bear down, feeling like you will pass out from the pressure and the pain but a cry fills the room and you chuckle in relief. The maester quickly inspects the babe. “You have a boy, princess.”

The women set about to help you deliver the afterbirth, the maester tying off the baby’s umbilical cord and cutting it before wrapping him in a soft cloth to hand him to you. “Is there any word of my husband?” You demand, looking down and immediately falling in love with his smooshed face and crown of dark hair.

“No, my princess.” The young servant who will look after the babe as a wet nurse if you wish it, shakes her head, looking down. “None knows where he is.”

You grunt, whimpering when the afterbirth passes and the women are still cleaning you as you start to move towards the edge of your birthing bed. “Dress me.” You demand, completely naked for the birth. “I will find him.”

“Princess. I- I wouldn’t recommend - you need to rest. Spend time with your baby.” Your hand maid tells you and you shake your head.

“I have performed my duty. I wish to show my prince.” You grunt defiantly and the handmaids reluctantly dress you, trying to clean off the blood as you stand on shaking legs.

“Princess. I do not recommend-” The maester tells you but you ignore him, sliding on your shoes as you shuffle down the hall.

It hurts, your stomach still cramping with the birth and every step feels like agony, your cunt swollen and sore from pushing out the Prince’s son. Blood runs down your legs but you ignore it. Your baby is in your arms and he squeaks and settles back down when you open your loose gown and offer him your breast. Having to stop in the middle of the hall to let him root around hungrily before he latches on. Your old rooms is your destination, having an idea that he might be there since you had been in the chamber you shared with your husband.

Oberyn groans as the man takes his cock into his mouth, the woman kissing along his chest and playfully nipping on his nipple. You’ve been distant lately, not wanting him due to your discomfort of carrying the baby inside of you and he has respected that, seeking his pleasure elsewhere. He’s been in this room for gods know how long, enjoying the man and woman he paid for. You are due any day so he is seeking his pleasures before he is a father for the third time. “Fuck.” Oberyn groans, head tilting back as the man takes him down his throat and the door is swung open.

Fury boils in your eyes when you see the man and woman naked in the bed with your husband. The man quickly pulls off Oberyn’s hard cock with a wet pop and the woman gasps at your appearance. Angry that he has not spoken to you about pleasure and needs, that he just decided to do this so selfishly, your heart breaks when you realize your husband missed the birth of his son, his heir, because of his cock.

You straighten your spine, bringing you to your full height and shoot all three of them a withering glare. “My su-“ You cut Oberyn off.

“You have a son, my Prince.” You manage with as much grace as you can possibly manage, sweat still rolling down your cheeks from where you left your birthing bed. “Congratulations.” With your announcement made, you turn to start shuffling back to the rooms you have been living in with your husband.

Oberyn’s eyes widen and he scrambles to get off of the bed, reaching for his robes to dress and the man and woman watch him in confusion. “Coins are on the side.” He points at the chest of drawers and rushes down the hall, catching up with you when you are still stumbling down the hallway. “You shouldn’t be walking. My sun, you should be resting in bed.” He tuts, looking down at the babe who is suckling at your breast.

“I should be resting in bed, but I had to track my husband down.” You hiss, furious with Oberyn and he reaches for you. You jerk your arm away from him, unwilling to let him touch you with the stink of sex on him. “The servants could not find you when my time had come but they should have just followed the smell of whores.”

“You- you said you were fine with my extramarital activities.” He huffs, walking alongside you.

“Yes but not when our son was being born.” You hiss and he shakes his head.

“No one came to find me. I would have been there, my love, you know I would have. I didn’t - I didn’t know.” He argues and you shake your head.

“No one could find you because you were in the whorehouses until you brought them back here. I know you know how to not be found. You should’ve checked in first.” You argue, hissing at the way your body aches.

“Please, forgive me. I - we have a son.” He coos, looking at the baby.

“I have a son.” You are angry, disappointed and for the first time since you have been married, tears slide down your cheeks. “Go back to your pleasure, Oberyn.” You tell him hollowly. “There is none to be found here.”

Oberyn stops walking, watching as you waddle back to your chambers, and his heart breaks. He knows you need to have time to process this and he will give it to you. He knows you need to be alone and despite his desire to see his son, he walks back to your old room, deciding to write to Doran and announce the birth of his son and heir.

****

“Daughter, you need to give yourself time-“

You shake your head, your baby sleeping in your arms as you look down at the sleeping child. It has been a week since you have given birth and you have not seen Oberyn once in that time. “I have decided.” You murmur quietly, unwilling to see the disapproval in your father’s eyes. “I wish to go be with Elia. I- I need time away.” You blink back tears and shake your head. “You were right, father. He has broken my heart and I - I need to leave. Please, please send me to my aunt.” She was technically your sister in law as well, but you are begging him as his daughter and not as Oberyn’s wife.

Doran sighs, hating to see the hurt in your eyes and he wishes he could take it away but you created this. He knew his brother would break you eventually, he’d warned you, and you paid him no mind. “Very well. Go. I shall arrange for your transport. Do you wish to bid your husband goodbye before you leave?” Doran asks, wanting you to remain here in Dorne and not allow you in the grasp of the Lannisters.

You shake your head, having already packed your trunks before you ever left Sunspear because you would have hired a ship yourself if your father had not approved. “There is no need.” You straighten your spine despite your heartbreak and try to give your father an unconcerned smile. “No doubt Oberyn has not missed my presence and will have no need for drawn out goodbyes.” You feel slightly guilty for not allowing Oberyn to be around your son, but he had chosen to spend time with others rather than you, and your son was too small to be apart from you.

****

Oberyn growls as he opens another door, unable to find you or his son. When an unsuspecting servant walks past, Oberyn grabs them. “Where the fuck are my wife and son?” He demands to know and the servant shakes at the fury in his eyes.

“They - they are gone, my prince.” He answers and Oberyn narrows his eyes.

“Where the fuck have they gone?” He demands to know.

“To - to King's Landing.” He answers and Oberyn slings him across the hall, making his way to Doran’s quarters.

“You let my wife and son go into that fucking lion’s den?” He growls as he enters, no announcement other than the door slamming against the wall.

Doran looks up from the book he has been reading and sighs as he closes it. “I allowed my daughter, the princess, to go and assist her aunt with her children.” He tells his brother flatly. “To let her heal from the heartbreak of your actions.” He frowns in disapproval, knowing that Oberyn had left you to give birth alone and he was not happy with his younger brother.

“Heartbreak? She hasn’t - she hasn’t allowed me to properly meet my son. She has locked me out because I did what she knew I did. It’s not fair, brother, and now you have let her run away and to be in that cesspool with the Lannisters. It’s bad enough that you let Elia go there. Now I have to worry about my wife and son. Fuck.” Oberyn slams his fist against the wall, furious at himself for allowing this to happen, at Doran for allowing this to happen.

“Your wife suffered her birthing pains alone while you were fucking!” Doran roars, the book in his hand aimed at his brother’s head as he launches it at him. “What if she had died? Alone and calling for you? By all the gods old and new, you should think of something other than your cock!” Doran shakes his head, angry that the bastard had ducked the book. “You will not follow her.” He orders the headstrong brother. “Elia will soothe her heart and send her back when she is ready to forgive the hurt you have done.”

Oberyn glares at Doran, knowing that the order will be enforced if he tries to leave plus he knows you need time. He will write you a letter and have it sent to King's Landing, hoping you will soften and return home sooner rather than later. He hates not having you here where he knows you are safe. He loves you, he truly does, and he knows he has needs, you know this, but he shouldn't have let them interfere with his duty to you. With a sigh, Oberyn nods and makes his way back to his quarters to write his letter.

****

Tears burn your eyes and your throat is thick with emotion, eyes skimming across the ornate scrawl that Oberyn produces when he puts quill to paper. “My sun, my heart is heavy without you in Dorne, the sun in the sky does not shy as brightly as it does with your presence by my side.” You close your eyes and shake your head slightly, not wishing to say something out of bitterness as Elia rocks your son in her arms, listening as you read your husband’s letter aloud. “I was foolish, irresponsibly so and I regret that it caused you the pain and heartache you suffer. I wish to make amends. To have your smile brighten the halls of Sunspear and your laughter to ring out through the Water Gardens again.” You sigh, and lift the paper back up with a trembling hand. “Come home, my Princess. You told me that you wished to be in Dorne and she misses you. I miss you, my love.” You look over at Elia in exasperation. “Am I wrong? Should I have stayed?” You ask, knowing that she and Oberyn had been the closest out of all of them and needing her guidance. She has been a Godsend since your arrival in King’s Landing, even with the current turmoil that echoes in the palace halls.

Elia sighs, looking down at your son who has the same features as his father. “You did what you thought was right for you at the time. If I am honest, I think you should return home. You are needed there and I am certain you wish for this one to be raised in Dorne and not this…this hell.” Elia has confided that she loathes the Red Keep. It’s like a prison and she longs for the warmth of the Dornish sun. “You need to go home, my darling, but selfishly? I wish for you to stay. I barely speak to anyone here. My husband is away…the king loses more of himself every day and I long to keep our children safe…even from him. I wish you could stay but my brother needs you.” Elia smiles sadly.

“Come with me.” You reach out and take her hand, squeezing gently. “Dorne will love to have their princess back for a visit. It will do you good to visit with your brothers.”

Elia shakes her head, “I have a duty to the people as their future queen. I cannot abandon them now. My darling, stay until the end of the week and then I shall arrange travel home for you. Besides, I still have to spoil my nephew rotten.” Elia grins, cooing down at the baby in her arms. “Write to Oberyn. Tell him you shall return home soon and give him hope. Absence makes the heart grow fonder so I am certain I shall have another nephew or niece to dote on by the time I visit Dorne once more.”

****

Screams awaken you in the middle of the night, jolting you from your sleep as you immediately reach for your son in his cradle. The sounds of clashing steel and fighting can be heard in the Bailey below your window and you panicked, throwing on your robe and bundling your son against your chest as you rush out the doors of your chamber to seek Elia. The news of the Baretheon rebellion has grown steadily dire and your ship is set to sail when the sun rises.

Servants scramble in the halls, pushing past you in their haste to flee the danger. Dread pools in your belly, hearing the screams grow louder as you race towards the chambers. They are here, the rebellion has reached the keep and they are coming for all who are in line for the iron throne.

Elia screams, her children clinging to her robes when you come into her chambers. “It’s only me. What’s happening?” You ask, terrified and the baby begins to cry in your arms. “Shhhh.” You coo, rocking him.

“It’s the rebellion. They have breached the Red Keep. My - my - the King will be killed. I have to protect the children. Get into the armoire. With the children.” She orders you and her children.

“Mama!” Her daughter cries but Elia cups her cheeks once you are all inside of the closet.

“It will be alright, my love. Let’s be quiet. We need to be quiet.” She tells her children, looking over at you now that you have gotten your son to settle against your breast. Your heart pounds and you pray to the gods that you will be spared, that Elia and her children will be spared.

You know the chances of Elia and the children being spared if they kill the king are low, that you need to flee in the chaos. “Elia, we need to run. We can make it to the ship. Have them sail now.” You plead with her, knowing it will kill Oberyn and your father if something happens to their beloved sister or her children. “There is a passage.” You know of the secret tunnels. “Let us leave now!”

“I cannot. They will find us in the halls. We are safer here. My darlings, it will be okay. Just let me - let me step out if anyone should come. I may be able to reason with-” The doors are slammed open to her chambers and you squeal, shaking as you wonder who has come in. Foe or friend. The armoire doors are swung open after several moments and you shriek when a mountain of a man grabs Elia by her arm, dragging her out of the wardrobe.

“Leave her alone!” You shout as you scramble out of the wardrobe and stand in front of Elia’s kids where they are huddled in the corner, clutching your son to your chest. “She is the crowned princess!” You are terrified, certain that all of you are going to die right here in these rooms. “Leave now!” You shout. “GUARDS!”

The Mountain shuts the doors and chuckles darkly, withdrawing his sword and you back your aunt and the children towards the window. “Get the fuck out of my way.” He growls, grabbing your arm and throwing you across the room. You grunt, curling your arms around your son, scared that he’s hurt and during that moment to assure yourself that your son is okay, the Mountain grabs Elia. You place your son in the armoire, safe as you rush back towards Elia, trying to protect her but the Mountain flings you across the room once more. “Please! Spare her! They haven’t done anything!” You plead and Elia screams for the guards once more.

You turn from your crumpled position on the ground to watch as Rhaenys, precious little Rhaenys, rushes towards the giant in armor, screaming and beating on his side. Too young to cause any harm to the man, but that doesn’t stop him from grabbing the little girl and lifting the toddler up high before flinging her against the wall. Making Elia scream and clutch Aegon to her chest. “No!” You scream, crawling towards the crumpled body of your niece, unmoving on the stone floor with her neck twisted at an off angle.

Elia cries out in anguish when you try to get Rhaenys to wake up but she’s gone, eyes open and glassy. The young boy - the future king - is clinging to Elia but the mountain grabs him, lifting him up by the neck and with a squeeze of his giant hand, he breaks the boy’s neck, making Elia scream in agony when the man flings the boy down beside his sister. You are shrieking, tears streaming down your cheeks as you look at the children and that’s when horror truly makes your blood run cold.

The Mountain grabs Elia and what happens next makes you vomit. He violates her, raping her while he chokes her, strangling her until she is still and you are frozen. When he is done, he grabs his sword and you retch in horror when he slices her open, her glassy eyes turned towards you. You are shaking, certain that you are next when the mountain wipes his sword on the bed sheets. “I- please. Please.” You choke, begging for your own life and the Mountain walks right past you.

“Return to Dorne, tell those fuckers what happened here. The Lannisters send their regards.”

The Red Keep has descended into complete chaos, screaming and steel clanging all around you. You bundle your son to your chest, hurrying as fast as you can. Bare feet slipping on the bloodied steps of the palace until you finally manage to escape from one of the side doors. Rushing towards the waterfront, towards the boat Elia had arranged for you to return to your husband. Your hands are bloody, the necklace she has been wearing in your hand and you are blinded by the tears as you sob in relief, seeing the swaying masts of the ship that will bear you back to Dorne.

****

The horse’s hooves attract the attention of the palace, the servants immediately approaching the messenger who swings off of his horse and rushes into the palace. When the doors open, Doran and Oberyn look up, both of them in the middle of discussing the harvest festival celebrations when the messenger approaches and hands the letter to Doran.

Oberyn impatiently awaits his brother’s rendition of the letter but the prince pales. “Doran? What is it?” Oberyn frowns and Doran hands him the letter with a shaky hand. Oberyn frowns, taking the letter and his body goes cold when he reads the news that his sister, niece and nephew have been murdered by order of the Lannisters. Robert Baratheon is now king. “She - she’s - oh gods.” Oberyn wants to be sick and his blood boils at the murder of his family. “What about my wife? And my son? Did - there’s no news of them. Is she - is he -? Doran.” He stumbles as he stands up, “I need - I need to go to King's Landing. I need to find them.”

Doran feels sick, his heart breaking at the loss of his sister and her two babies. He knows their deaths had to have been cruel. Otherwise, why would they have put a two year old and one year old to death? “No.”

Oberyn’s head snaps towards Doran and he grits his teeth furiously. “No?” He hisses. “My sister - her children are dead! My wife and son are there.”

Doran shakes his head, knowing that if his brother goes to King’s Landing, he will start another war. “We will wait until there is more news.” He tells his brother. “We will have our maester send a raven to the citadel.”

“I cannot. I will not fucking sit here while my sun…she’s your daughter. Are you not worried? I cannot - I cannot just fucking sit here. If the Lannisters wish for war, I shall single handedly bring it to them. They will pay!” Oberyn roars, anger masking his pain.

“Now is the time for cooler heads.” Oberyn’s temperament has always been one to rush into battle when he is feeling provoked but now is not the time. “We must not make a mistake. For Dorne. I love my daughter and wish she were here safe and sound, but she is not.” He does not mention that it is because of Oberyn that you are not where you belong. “Elia’s body along with the children are being shipped back to Dorne.” He swallows thickly. “Now is the time we mourn.”

“You don’t want revenge? They killed Elia. Her children. We should be sending the fucking Dornish army to their door now. The Lannisters have concocted this scheme. We must retaliate. Now. Brother, please. Do not let them get away with it.” Oberyn pleads, needing the anger to distract him from the pain of not knowing your status.

“We would be sending our army to their deaths without proof.” Doran rationalizes. “I am angry. I am sad.” He swallows harshly and shakes his head. “Still, it is my duty to do what is best for Dorne, not just the Martells.”

“Fuck your duty. Fuck Dorne. This is our family and you, as usual, don’t do anything to avenge us. Doran, you - you disappoint me once again. I shall have my own revenge.” Oberyn promises and growls as he makes his way through the halls, staff avoiding him as he shoves open the doors to your chambers, burying his face in your pillow as he allows himself to cry, to mourn, and to pray that you and his son are safe.

****

“My Princess, we will be docking at Sunspear within the hour.” The nervous deck hand waits for you to turn your head, to give some clue that you have heard him, but you just stare at the city as it grows closer every second that ticks by.

It has been a long week. One that you can recall every second of and none at all. A shadow of yourself as you cling to your son and try to banish the images of Elia and her children’s deaths from your mind. Still wearing your nightgown that you had been wearing when you fled the Red Keep, no women’s clothes on board and what little clothing they could spare was used for your son’s nappies.

The spires of the palace loom in the distance and you wonder if Oberyn will blame you for not saving Elia, or maybe he will blame you for not dying with her.

When the horn sounds that the boat is docking with Elia and the children’s remains, Oberyn makes his way to the dock, wanting to see the caskets and he has been pulling his hair out for a week, trying to find word of your status. Whether you were alive or dead. He has to know. When he sees you stumble down the ramp of the boat, his eyes widen. “My sun!” He shouts, running towards you and he wraps you in his arms, the baby between you as he holds you close.

“Oberyn.” You gasp when you feel his arms around you, wanting to close your eyes and melt into his safe embrace but you cannot. “She’s dead, Oberyn. Elia- the kids, they are dead!” You sob, breaking down for the first time since that horrible night. “I- I could not stop him!”

“It’s okay, my love. It’s okay. You’re safe. You are both safe.” He feels relieved despite the fact that his sister is dead. He has you. He hasn’t lost you. “You’re alive.” He chokes, tears stinging in his eyes and he pulls back so he can cup your cheeks, looking into your eyes. “It’s okay. You couldn’t - there’s nothing you could do. It’s okay. You’re home.”

“I was- the baby- he lifted her and threw her against the wall-“ you babble in a near panic. “She- oh gods Oberyn, her neck- she was gone and then the sweet little one- he-“ your voice cracks. “They were gone and then he raped her! He raped her on the bodies of her children!” You shriek. “I couldn’t stop him! I couldn’t- he- he raped her and then he killed her like she was nothing!”

“Ssshhh.” Oberyn coos, bringing you into his chest, “it’s not your fault. You couldn’t do anything, my love. Let’s calm down and let me take you inside the palace. You need to be in your home.” He murmurs, kissing your hair and he leans back to look down at the baby. “Gods. He has grown.” Oberyn leans down to kiss his son’s head. Fury beats in his chest, but that will not help you heal right now, looking like you are about to expire on your feet.

You don’t understand why he is not upset, why he is not furious with you. Your sobs give way to hiccups and you let Oberyn lead you away from the ship, the caskets containing the bodies of your family slowly being raised up from the hold to be transported to the castle. You step onto the hot sands of Dorne with your bare feet and you sigh softly, happy to feel it after what has happened.

Oberyn rubs your back as he guides you back into the palace, everyone looking at you since you are still wearing your nightdress. “Obbaron is safe. You are safe, my sun. The gods have answered my prayers.” Oberyn is relieved and he is sad but selfish, happy you are safe and home…finally.

In the palace, you are stripped out of your filthy and ragged nightgown and placed in a large, lovely bath. You refuse to let your son out of your sight, making the servant tut and disappear to tell on you to Oberyn. You can’t let him go right now.

Oberyn heard of your insistence that Obbaron be in your arms in the bath and he makes his way to your chambers after he asked for some food to be sent to you. “My sun, let me take him while you bathe.” Oberyn says as he walks in, eager to see the son he barely got a chance to hold before you left for Kings Landing.

You hesitate, almost refusing but you know that Obbaron will be safe in his father’s arms. The servants have all disappeared, leaving the bathing room and you nod after a moment, letting Oberyn come and take your son from your arms. “Be careful.” You choke out before you can stop yourself, even though you know it is foolish. Watching the children being struck down in front of you has affected you, making you tear up again as you step into the large pool of water. Your husband has seen you naked before, even if he did not wish to see you that way anymore - you would not hide yourself.

Oberyn watches you get into the bath and he can’t believe how beautiful you are. Even when wrecked with grief, you are still the most gorgeous woman he has even seen. He rocks the baby, looking down at his beautiful son and he leans down to kiss his forehead, thanking the gods that you are both okay.

You groan as you sink into the water, relieved to be able to clean yourself again after a week on ship. It’s selfish, wanting something like this when your poor aunt will never take another breath. Making you close your eyes so you don’t cry again before you pick up the cake of perfumed soap to start scrubbing every inch of your body, needing to feel clean again.

“I’ve missed you.” Oberyn confesses, knowing that now he needs to be completely honest. Life is too short. He needs you. “I love you. So much. I’ve missed you every single day since you’ve been gone.” He admits, “and our beautiful son.” He looks down at Obbaron.

You snort softly, not disbelieving him completely but finding it hard to believe that he had spent the last months pining for you. “I am sure you found comfort somewhere.” You murmur softly, relaxing into the bath. “I cannot believe for a moment that my husband was celibate while I was gone.”

Oberyn snorts, “alas my cock could not get hard for anyone other than you during your absence. Perhaps your departure forced me to reconsider what is important to me and I know now that I cannot live without you. You are - you are my world and I refuse to live in a world where you do not exist. I was - if you were dead…” He trails off, unable to put the thoughts into words. “I love you. It’s always been you and I need you. More than even I thought possible.”

“You fucking other people did not upset me.” You tell him, your voice level and sure. You have had a lot of time to think about why you were so furious and heartbroken when you discovered Oberyn in your old chambers with others. “If I had not been carrying Obbaron I might have joined in.”

Oberyn frowns, knowing you had discussed sharing your bed prior to your marriage, deciding to wait until after you had given birth. “You were upset that I chose to fuck over being by your side.” He states and you nod, knowing it seems foolish now. Most men do not come to their wife’s bedside during birth. “I do not wish to share a bed unless you are involved.” He tells you, knowing he made that decision as soon as the guilt hit him. He wants to be fully invested in this marriage and your pleasure is his pleasure.

You eye him in surprise, shocked that he would say that, but Oberyn seems sincere. Your heart melts slightly and you give a small nod. “I have missed you.” You confess. “Elia had- I was due to sail for Dorne just that next morning. To return to you.” It seems important that he knows you didn’t come home just because of the rebellion and his sister’s murder. You blink back tears and swallow heavily. “I wish I had been able to return like that. Simply because I wished to.”

Oberyn's heart aches, wishing that had been the case but it's not and his entire body yearns for vengeance. "Me too." He whispers, looking down at his son once more who has fallen asleep against his chest, exposed by the gapping in his robes. "My sun...I - I haven't slept. I haven't eaten. My worry that you - I didn't know if you were alive or dead. It was destroying me to not know and yet I lived in fear of knowing in case you -" He chokes, unable to speak the words.

You shuffle to the edge, reaching for Oberyn and stroking his arm as he holds your son. “We are here, safe with you, where we belong.” Your eyes slide down to your sleeping son and you give a soft smile. “He is comfortable with you already, he knows his father.”

Oberyn smiles sadly, “you both should’ve been here the entire time. Not just - not just now. He should know his father. I don’t blame you for leaving, my sun, but I want you to know I missed you every single day you were gone. I love you. And him. I don’t wish to lose you again.”

It’s what you want to hear, all you wanted although you don’t wish to hold Oberyn in a cage. “I love you, my prince. I am willing to share you, as long as no one else comes before me.”

"For now, I wish to have my wife. Tonight, I want you. To worship you and show you how much I love you. Tomorrow, we mourn my sister and her children. In time, I will have my revenge but tonight, I want to make love to my wife." He declares, his dark eyes focused on you.

Guilt settling over you, you look away, knowing you need to be honest with your husband. You couldn’t have known that he had decided to be celibate since you had boarded a ship for King’s Landing. “I must confess something to you.” You whisper. “I have had several in my bed while I was at the Red Keep. All women.” You assure him. “I did not want to risk carrying another man’s child while I am married to you, but I found pleasure in others.”

Oberyn’s cock twitches as he thinks of you in bed with other women. He can’t blame you for it. You are doing what he did but you had left, decided to leave him and go to Elia. He cannot be angry with you. “My sun, I do not blame you for seeking pleasure. I wouldn’t have minded watching.” He chuckles before his smile falls, his eyes meeting yours. “Would you have come home? If Elia…would you have come home?”

“I was already coming home to you.” You give him a bittersweet smile. “Elia told me that selfishly she wished me to stay but that her brother needed me more than she did. Her last days were- they were as peaceful as they could be.” You assure him. “We talked of Dorne and she was making plans to come home for a visit.” You bite your lip. “I wish I had convinced her to come with me. To just leave a few days earlier.”

Oberyn swallows harshly, “it wasn’t your fault my love. It was - the Lannisters. They will pay. I vow they will pay. Elia…gods bless her soul…she was stubborn like all Martell’s so I doubt you could’ve done anything to make her leave. Do not blame yourself.”

You relax, happy that Oberyn does not blame you. You look at the babe in his arms and you wish that things are different but they are not. The only thing you can do is move forward. “Lay the baby in the cradle.” You urge him, suddenly in need of your husband. “Join me in the bath. I need to feel you.”

Oberyn nods, shifting to stand up now the baby is asleep and he gently places him in the cradle across the room before he works on removing his robes and breeches. Once he is naked, he strides over to the bathtub and you shift forward to allow him to get in behind you. As soon as he is in, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you back into his chest, groaning at the feel of you in his arms. Finally.

You moan softly, leaning back against his chest and closing your eyes. It’s the first time in over a week that you truly feel safe. Relaxing against him and letting the silence fall between you. There is much more that needs to be said, but right now you just want your husband to hold you. “I love you.” You whisper softly, knowing that it would always be that way. It would always be Oberyn.

Oberyn caresses your arms, kissing your neck and he sighs, “I love you too,” into your skin. He breathes you in, relieved to have you in his arms again and he caresses every inch he can touch, just wanting to feel you and reassure himself that you are here.

You feel his hands start to roam over your body. Caressing and squeezing you, reassuring himself that you are in his arms. Turning your head, your lips graze his jaw, pressing kisses to his thin line of a beard that frames his face. “I want you.” You murmur softly, already feeling the first pangs of arousal.

“Are you sure?” He murmurs, not wanting to push you if you aren’t ready. You’ve experienced horrors that men at war see and he doesn’t want to push you. He has lost so much, he can’t lose you too. He needs you to fucking breathe. “My sun, tell me what you want.”

“I want to feel alive.” You whimper, grabbing his hands and bringing them up to your still nursing breasts. He doesn’t squeeze harshly, but you moan when his thumbs brush over your hard nipples. “I want to banish the images in my mind and replace them with my husband fucking me.”

Oberyn understands what you mean. Some of his whoring ways are the result of the horrific memories of the battlefield. Nights spent with lovers distract from the things he had seen. “Tell me if you want me to stop.” He orders but kisses along your neck, his fingers plucking your nipples and your responsive moan has his cock twitching against your back.

“Yessss.” You moan and tilt your head back so that you are leaning against his shoulder. “Touch me Oberyn.” You beg, eyes slipping closed as you let him play your body like an instrument.

Oberyn caresses your chest, his lips tracing your neck and shoulders until his hands dip lower. Caressing your stomach that carried his child and he secretly wishes to see you round again, do it properly this time. His fingers dip lower, playing with the curls above your cunt until he finally, finally, presses his finger to your clit.

Gasping, your legs thrash in the water as Oberyn starts to rub your clit. Pressing firmly and stroking you just like you need as you groan in his arms. This is what you need, to be surrounded by him, his scent in your nose as you kiss his pulse. Mindless to everything but the way he is making you feel. “Yes, Oberyn, yess.” You pant softly.

He groans, kissing along your neck as his cock hardens against your back, his fingers rubbing your clit and he wants you to cum just like this. “I love you. My sun. My wife. My love.” He coos, “cum for me.” He murmurs, breathing you in after being apart for so long.

It doesn’t take long, just a few more minutes of his magical fingers against your clit and you are crying out. Shuddering against him while he pushes you through pleasure until your chest is heaving and you are breathless. “Inside me.” You push his hand away and turn over, wanting to ride your husband in the bath. “Need you inside me.”

His hands immediately grip your hips, dragging you close so you are hovering over him and his lips immediately around your nipple, biting and sucking while he reaches down to position himself at your entrance. “Ride my cock. I want you to make yourself cum.” He orders, cupping your cheek while he kisses up your chest.

The only thing he is wearing is his chain with the family crest. Wrapping it up on your fist, you sink down onto his cock with a moan. All the fingers in the world will never feel as good as his cock. “Fuck, Oberyn.”

He watches you, dark eyes getting even darker as he watches you sink down onto his cock, your silk walls gripping him like no one else can. You’re gorgeous and his wife. “Fuck, my love. You always feel so good. Such a tight little cunt.” He coos, gripping your chin to make you look at him.

He is the only man you have let in your body and he knows it better than anyone. His cock spearing up into your deliciously and you clench around him at the lust in his eyes. “Your cunt.” You promise, grinding down onto him and swiveling your hips to make you moan. “Fill me up Oberyn.” You plead softly, looking into his dark eyes that are reflective in the child you made together. “I want to feel you for days.”

He growls, suddenly feeling desperate after he could’ve lost you from his own stupidity. His arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you against him, his cock thrusting up into you to make the water spill off the sides of the tub. “Should have never let you go. Should’ve worshiped you so you didn’t leave.” He murmurs against your mouth.

Whimpering, you turn into his kiss, sliding your tongue into his mouth and your hand curls around the back of his neck. Moaning every time he thrusts up into you, it becomes a symphony of mewls and panted breaths as he rocks his hips up frantically.

Your breath mingles with his and his hands are everywhere, sliding down to squeeze your ass, pulling you into him to help you rock on his cock as he thrusts up into you. “Gods, I love you.” He groans, his lips attached to your neck and he sucks to leave a bruise beneath the skin.

“I love you.” You pant, closing your eyes and tangling your fingers into his hair as you rock up and down on his length. Rolling your hips faster as need builds and you know that you’re going to cum soon. “Please- oh fuck, I’m so close.”

Oberyn immediately presses his fingers to your clit, rubbing it harshly while he leans closer to press his lips to yours. “Cum for me, my sun.” He orders against your mouth, his cock twitching inside of you as his own orgasm nears.

It’s so good, blinding pleasure crashes over you as you buck in his arms. Gasping and crying out when your walls clamp down around him as you soak his already wet cock with a torrent of your juices, barely able to rock on him as your thighs shake.

Oberyn’s fingers dig deep into your ass, working you on his cock while he seeks his own climax. Your walls flutter around his cock, gripping him, and he hisses when you lean forward to bite down on his jaw. “Cum.” You plead and it sends him over the edge. His cock buried deep as he thrusts up into you, painting your walls with his hot seed.

You whine at the heat flooding your womb, leaning in and kissing him gently. “I love you so much.” You promise, pressing your lips to his between words. “My prince, my husband.”

“My princess. My world.” He vows, pulling you close and you giggle at the water that splashed onto the floor. “Leave it. It will be dried.” He tells you and kisses your nose then your forehead. “I - I shall thank the gods you have returned to me.”

****

“You are lovely.” You look in the mirror at the beautiful woman that had been assigned to be your handmaid while you are going through your second pregnancy. “What is your name?” Her fingers are still where they are braiding your hair and her dark, kohl lined eyes look up to meet yours. You know her name, but you wish to talk candidly and to ask questions is the obvious choice to begin. To show interest.

“Ellaria, my princess.” The woman smiles, her expression is soft and you instantly feel attracted to her.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” You coo and Ellaria flusters. You take her hand and bring it to your lips, kissing her palm and she inhales sharply.

“Not as beautiful as you, my princess.” She responds breathlessly.

She is perfect for your bed. You haven’t missed the way that Oberyn’s gaze followed her when she was introduced and you find her most attractive. “Tell me Ellaria,” you turn and look her in the eyes. “How would you feel about joining Oberyn and I in our chambers tonight?” You ask, smirking slightly at the idea of surprising your husband.

Ellaria’s eyes widen but she smirks, after a moment. “I would be honored to join you and the prince, my princess.” She answers, her fingers caressing your neck and shoulders and you shiver in delight. She finishes your hairstyle and leans down to kiss your cheek. “I shall count the moments until I can be in your bed.” She murmurs and you turn your head to press your lips to hers, wanting to kiss her before tonight. You are impatient.

Her lips are soft, sweet as you reach up and cup her cheek. Deepening the kiss and sliding your tongue into Ellaria’s mouth, you push up to your feet so you can stand with her and hold onto her hips as she starts to kiss you back.

Ellaria caresses your back, her tongue sliding against yours when the doors open and Oberyn strides in. His eyebrows raise and he chuckles. “Looks like my princess is being well looked after.” He grins and slides up behind you, kissing your neck. “Have you asked her, my sun?” He murmurs in your ear, his hands gripping your waist.

You pout slightly that your plans have been ruined but you turn and press your lips to his when you break the kiss from Ellaria. “I had hoped to surprise you.” You huff slightly, nodding and turning back to the servant with a smile. “As you can tell, both the prince and I are eager for you to join us.”

Ellaria flusters, a smile on her face as she leans back to look at you and your husband. “Please let me pleasure you both. I want to please my prince and princess.”

Oberyn smirks, reaching out to cup her cheek, “let us pleasure the princess. She is carrying my child and I am certain that your tongue on her clit would help her relax.”

You moan at the idea and nod, biting your lip. “Why don’t you show Ellaria how wonderful your cock is while she devours my cunt?” You suggest. “I know you have not been able to fuck me as hard as you wish and I think our girl will enjoy screaming your name.”

Oberyn’s cock twitches at the thought. You’ve already discussed him fucking others and you have given your permission for him to cum inside the ones you like. Ellaria was included in that consent. “Strip my beautiful wife out of her robes before you follow suit and show me how beautiful the female form can be. I want to worship at the altar of two gorgeous cunts.” Oberyn coos as he begins to strip off his own clothes.

You give a small, excited giggle as Ellaria moans quietly and you let her guide you toward the large round bed. “He’s got a wonderful cock and his fingers are magical.” You promise her while she pulls at the thin ties of your robes to pull them off your rounded body.

Her hands are deft, quickly undressing you and her hands caress your bump for a moment before she begins to remove her own clothes. When she’s naked, you turn back towards your husband. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she? A true Dornish gem.” You coo, reaching out to cup her breast and Oberyn loves seeing you so free. “She’s perfect for us. Ellaria, lay my princess down and suck on her sore tits while I push my fingers inside of your cunt.”

It takes you a moment to get comfortable but soon you are on your back and Ellaria’s lips are pressed to your skin, kissing up your side before she wraps her lips around your nipple. “Oh!” Your back arches and you cry out in pleasure, your breasts so sensitive since your pregnancy. “Fuck, Oberyn, make her feel-feel good.” You order your husband as he kneels on the bed behind her.

Oberyn groans at the sight of Ellaria bent over as she sucks on your tits and that makes him eager to lean down and slide his tongue through her folds, making her moan out in delight around your breast. You caress her side, eyes closed as you enjoy her hot mouth and you can hear your husband’s tongue diving into her cunt.

The sounds of pleasure fill your chambers, licking and sucking accompanying muffled moans. Your fingers stroke Ellaria’s cheek and through her hair while she sucks in your breasts. “How does she taste?” You ask Oberyn, knowing that she must be delicious, kissing her had been wonderful. “My sun, she is tangy and sweet like your favorite Dornish wine.” Oberyn praises as he lifts his head to wink at you over her shoulder. “When you taste her, you will hate to pull away.”

You grin, “I can’t wait. My handmaid shall be spoiled by us. Her cunt will never be without pleasure.” You promise and Ellaria moans, kissing down your stomach, over your bump until she is between your thighs. Oberyn shifts to accommodate her and he kneels behind Ellaria, knowing she’s wet enough to take him so when her tongue slides through your folds, he pushes into her with a deep groan.

Her moan makes your entire core clench. Vibrating through you wonderfully and your fingers tangle in her hair, your eyes watching your husband’s face as she obviously clenches around him. He looks gorgeously wrecked and you don’t feel jealous, instead you are eager for him to rock into her. Ellaria’s tongue slides through your folds and flicks against your clit.

“How does her tongue feel, my love?” Oberyn asks, his hands gripping Ellaria’s waist as he rocks into her a little harder, sending her tongue deeper into your cunt. “Incredible.” You sigh, shifting to look down at Ellaria as her face is buried in your cunt and you look up to meet the eyes of your husband. “Fuck, you look gorgeous, my sun.”

The three of you work closer to orgasm together. Moaning when Oberyn thrusts into your handmaid and pushes her tongue deeper inside your cunt. You rock your hips up to meet her eager tongue and your hands cup your breasts, toying with your nipples.

Oberyn wants you to cum and Ellaria to cum before he does. Reaching over your handmaid, he presses his thumb to your clit while Ellaria’s tongue dives deep. “Cum for us, my sun.” He orders, his dark eyes meeting yours.

Your eyes slip closed and you cry out, your thighs pressing against Ellaria’s head while you come apart. Heedless to everything but your pleasure as she licks into you.

Ellaria works you through it, her head knocking against Oberyn’s hand until his thumb finds her clit, rubbing it to push her over the edge when his cock twitches inside of her, his orgasm nearing. “Cum for us, sweetness.” He coos, bending over to kiss her shoulder.

You can tell the second she starts to cum. Oberyn gently bites her shoulder and her entire body stiffens. Crying out loudly, it’s the sweetest sound you have heard mixed with Oberyn’s groan. He rocks into her faster, his hips slamming against her ass he fucks her through her high and chases his own. “Cum baby.” You order Oberyn. “Fill her up. I want to see your seed drip from her gorgeous cunt.”

Oberyn clenches his jaw, sweat beading on his brow as he rocks into Ellaria, her cunt dripping from her orgasm and it only takes a few thrusts before he is cumming, painting her walls with his seed. “Fuck.” He pants, eyes closed until he forces himself to look at you, see your expression as his cock pulses inside of your handmaid.

You smirk as you watch the two of them. Reaching out and caressing her cheek where her chin is resting on your hip. “Beautiful.” You coo softly, watching Oberyn as he watches you. “How was your first experience with the Prince?” You ask her curiously.

“Exquisite, my princess.” Ellaria declares breathlessly.

“Good. I would like you to share our bed. I will require pleasure in the lead up to birth and my husband shall require a beautiful cunt to lose himself in. Would you be interested in being that woman?” Oberyn smirks at your question, pleased to see how you own your pleasure now without embarrassment or hesitancy.

Ellaria’s eyes widen and she twists, looking back and forth between you and Oberyn, who just pulled out of her cunt and moves to settle down beside you and strokes your stomach. He arches an eyebrow at her with a smirk and she flusters. She had been days away from seeking out the brothels to work before she had been brought to the palace to be your handmaid. Now she was being presented with something beyond her wildest dreams. “I do not know what to say.” She admits quietly and you don’t want to push her, but you want her to say yes. “It is thrilling to know that you would want me that way, but if you should grow bored?” She doesn’t want to be on the streets again, worrying about what food will fill her belly.

“If that day ever comes, you would still have a place in our household.” You look over at Oberyn who nods seriously.

Ellaria bites her lip, looking at you and the prince, and it’s easy to make her decision. “Very well. I would be honored to be in your bed every night. Whatever you wish of me, it is yours.” Ellaria promises and you shake your head.

“Only what you wish, too. We will not force you to do something you do not wish to do. We are all about pleasure, aren’t we my love?” You coo at Oberyn, caressing his chest and he nods.

“Very much so. I only want pleasure. No pain.” He murmurs, his eyes meeting yours and he swears he falls for you again, unable to believe this strong woman is his wife. It’s incredible to watch after knowing you as a shy young woman.

You smile at Oberyn, unable to resist kissing him again before you reach for Ellaria. “Only pleasure. And you will be treated with respect.” You promise her, unwilling to tolerate anything else. “The prince will simply have a princess and a paramour who he can have together without there being any harsh words.”

Ellaria nods, grinning as she cannot believe how lucky she is to be able to share a bed with the prince and princess. Her birth into poverty has not held her back and she is determined to ensure she remains by your side for a long time, pleasuring you and serving you as your handmaid. “Let us wash up and we shall get some food. I want some berries then I want to fuck my wife while she makes her beautiful handmaid cum with her tongue.” Oberyn smirks, eager to fuck again.

****

“You look exquisite, my love.” You coo, reaching up and caressing Ellaria’s cheek before you adjust one of her braids. “Perfectly matched and stunning.” The deep plunging V of her dress is shocking for the women of the North, but it matches the low neckline and high slits in the skirts of your own dress. Both of you dressed to accompany Oberyn to the wedding of Joffrey.

“You are anxious, my love.” Ellaria coos, walking over to Oberyn whose back is tense as he looks out of the window to the streets of Flea Bottom. “I hate being here. With those bastards that killed my darling sister. I yearn for blood.” He growls, tensing when Ellaria’s hand touches his back.

You had refused to stay in the Red Keep, not wanting to return to the very rooms that Elia had been killed in before your eyes. Despite the years that have passed, you feel as strongly as Oberyn. You join the two of them and lean over to kiss your husband's cheek on the other side of him so that both of you flank him. “They will pay. The Lannisters may have dealt us a blow, but we will make sure their house is ground to dust and forgotten.”

Oberyn clenches his jaw, nodding in response and he hisses when he imagines getting his revenge finally. It’s been years since Elia was killed but he’s desperate for vengeance. “The Lannisters…I will kill every last one of them.” He vows and turns his head to press his lips to yours. He grabs Ellaria, dragging her closer so she can press her lips to yours too, the three of you entangled.

You moan into the kiss, your hand on your lover’s hip. Both of you will need to keep Oberyn calm and keep him from acting rashly. He was hot headed sometimes but with both of you by his side, he can be reasoned with. Together, all three of you will raze the house of golden lions to the ground.

****

The wedding was boring like all royal weddings, lengthy and tedious but when you attend the reception, Oberyn is eager to sip the wine and feast on the berries Ellaria is feeding him. You can feel eyes on you, so many are unused to seeing a prince and princess with a paramour in King's Landing where lovers remain banished to the shadows. “Lover, shall we take a stroll?” You ask Ellaria, wanting Oberyn to have a moment with the young knight who is eying him from across the way. Perhaps tonight, another shall join you in your chambers.

Smirking, you nod and lean over to press your lips to Oberyn’s lips before you stand. Moving over beside Ellaria, you link your arm through hers happily and pick up your goblet to carry with you. You had specially asked for watered down wine discreetly, not wanting Oberyn to worry about your secret for now. “Let us go make scandalous conversation with the noble ladies here.” You tease with a joyous smirk. They would not dare insult you to your face as the princess of Dorne.

Ellaria grins, happy to be beside you and support you during this time of torment, the dreaded capital, and the Lannisters. “I didn’t know the Dornish were so accommodating to their whores.” Cersei approaches and you stiffen your back, staring at the queen.

“I didn’t know the Lannisters were so accommodating to murderers.” You counter, glancing over at the Mountain who is striding past, watching over the king.

“My princess. Come, let us walk. You do not need the stress.” Ellaria says, caressing your arm and you glare at the queen before Oberyn joins you, wrapping his arm around your waist, his own jaw clenched. “Cersei. The queen mother as you are now.” He quips, narrowing his eyes when Tywin approaches behind his daughter.

Cersei’s eyes narrow back at Oberyn before she plasters a fake smile on her face. “Tell me,” she hums, turning towards you, “how do you stand the whispers as you walk around merrily with your husband’s whore. She’s birthed four? It’s it four? Bastards?”

Oberyn narrows his eyes before he chuckles, looking up at Tywin. “I suppose four bastards are better than keeping it in the family, isn’t that right, Lord Tywin?” He quips, making Cersei’s smile drop.

Tywin is cool as he responds, “you should know all about that, marrying your niece after all.” Oberyn’s hand twitches with the urge to stab the older man but your grip on his other arm has him pausing.

You give Tywin a smile that tinges on acidic. “While I might have been the Prince’s niece by marriage, at least we can be sure that there is no common blood.” You tsk and shake your head before you glance at his daughter. “It is a wonder that the King and all the Baratheon children inherited the golden locks of the Lannisters. Almost as if dear Robert’s seed was impotent.”

Cersei hisses through her teeth and the urge to slap you is great but people are watching so she maintains her composure. "Lannisters just have stronger characteristics." She counters, "but my late husband adored the golden locks of our children." She declares expertly and Oberyn scoffs.

"Perhaps those characteristics are best left in this generation. Your son has chosen a bride with whom he shares no blood relation...a blessing for the kingdoms." Oberyn stabs, making Tywin clench his jaw.

“Indeed.” You smirk as you lift your cup to your lips, nodding at the queen mother as you take a small sip. Grimacing slightly at the bitterness of the wine. “Pity that the king's wedding did not merit casks of good wine to be opened.” You cough, shaking your head slightly.

Ellaria frowns, watching you cough more and Oberyn grows concerned when you start to wheeze. "What - what is happening?" He cries, "my love. Breathe!" He orders, slapping you on the back but you continue to choke, your face contorted. "Maester. Someone get a maester. She - she is with child!" Oberyn shouts, growing more panicked by the second.

Clawing at your throat, you hear the panic and commotion around you, the cruel ring of Joffrey’s laugh as you struggle to breathe. “Dornish bitches cannot handle good wine.” He scoffs, black dots appearing in your vision as you vaguely watch as he swipes his own goblet up and takes a large gulp, as if to prove he is superior.

Oberyn catches you as you collapse, his heart pounding and he tries to tell you to breathe. He begs you to breathe but you rasp and soon enough, you go still. Oberyn shakes you, “please my love. Wake up. Breathe.” He pleads as your glassy eyes stare at him, blood dripping from your mouth and his following roar of anguish can be heard across to Flea Bottom.

Joffrey starts to sputter and choke, drawing attention away from your prone form. Grasping his throat and turning purple as he tries to breathe. Making the smirk on Cersei’s face fall as she screams, rushing from her spot standing over you to where the king has collapsed.

Oberyn doesn't give a fuck that the king is suffering the same fate. His body cradles yours as he wails in agony of losing you. You are the sun in his sky, the air he breathes. He chokes, "please, my sun, come back to me." He begs and Ellaria is kneeling beside him, cupping your cheek as she begs you to wake up too.

****

“Please, my love.” Ellaria reaches for Oberyn’s arm, trying to gently coax him away from your body. “The maester needs to close the casket so it can be loaded up onto the ship.” Her red-rimmed eyes speaks of her anguish and heartbreak as she looks down at your still form. “She wants to go home, to be buried in the sands of Dorne.”

Oberyn can’t tear himself away from you. The grief weighs him down every single step he takes. His vengeance threatens to overwhelm him but he knows he cannot risk Ellaria. He has already lost so much. He has to return home and then form a plan for his revenge. Perhaps he can meet the Targaryen he has heard whispers about, assist her with her fight for the Iron Throne. “I love you, my sun.” He whispers, leaning down to kiss your lips before he allows the maester to close the casket. “What shall we do without her, Ellaria? She is - was my entire sun. Now my days are dark.”

“We will go back and hug your babies.” Ellaria whispers softly. She knows that Oberyn loves her, just like you had loved her, but there was a special bond between you and the prince. “And plot our vengeance.”

“The baby.” Oberyn chokes, “she was - she was with child again.” He swallows harshly, barely processing how much he has lost. The love of his life and a child. His other children, twelve in total, are safe in Dorne but he mourns his loss. “I - I am not sure I can live without her. How are you- you appear to be stronger than me.”

Ellaria shakes her head. “No, I am weeping on the inside but I know she would want me to be strong for you.” She murmurs, staring at the casket as the Dornish soldiers had traveled here with you, start to carry your casket to the ship. “She had not announced she was pregnant yet, how did you know?”

Oberyn smiles wistfully, “I know her. Her breasts were sore and she came quicker than normal. She couldn’t hide it from me. I knew she was with child.” He chokes, tears in his eyes as he looks at his lover, your lover. “Let us get on this ship before I do something stupid like rush into the Red Keep and slay every Lannister I see.”

Ellaria wraps her arm around Oberyn’s waist and the two of them lead a mournful procession of Dornish soldiers as they trail behind the cart loaded down with your body.

Once they are on board, the casket is laid in place and Oberyn walks over to run his fingers along the wood. He will ensure you have a proper casket when you return to Dorne. He leans down to press a kiss where your face would be when he hears the pounding. “Gods.” He frowns, “Ellaria. Come here. Do you - can you hear that?” He asks, wondering if it’s his imagination

Sobbing, you beat against the box you are in. This was not supposed to have happened. Waking up in darkness with little room to move, you had cried out until your sore voice had given way. Certain that you are in hell and that the gods are punishing you as you continue to try to get someone’s attention. The noise of the cart and horses, the docks and the men are loud, muffling your cries for help. “I’m alive!” You scream, your voice cracking. “Open it! I’m alive in here!”

Ellaria’s eyes widen. “She’s awake! My prince, she’s awake!”

Oberyn’s eyes widen back and he waves over the guards. “Open this fucking casket now! Now!” He demands and the men rush over. They all work to pry open the box and when the lid is removed, Oberyn inhales sharply when he sees your beautiful eyes meeting his, wincing from the light. “Oh my sun. You’re alive.” Oberyn reaches out to grab you, lifting you out of the casket and into his arms, his lips kissing you all over as he sobs in relief that you are alive.

You gasp in the sweet fresh air of the docks, salty and clean. Squinting your eyes against the harsh sunlight, you feel Oberyn’s arms around you and his prayerful kisses in relief. It hadn’t been supposed to happen this way and it chills you to think that you could have been locked in that box until there was no air. You couldn’t warn Oberyn, not if it had to be believable. “It worked.” You hadn’t expected to be out for as long as you were, but you hadn’t died and that was all that mattered.

“You - you were dead. Poisoned. I- fuck- we thought we had lost you.” Ellaria comes to kneel down, wrapping her arms around you and Oberyn, her own tears wetting your gown. “You’re alive. My princess. We thought -” She chokes and Oberyn kisses your forehead. “We thought you were dead. I’m so sorry, my love. We shouldn’t - the Maester declared that you were dead.”

You reach up and caress Oberyn’s face, turning to kiss Ellaria gently. “It is okay, my loves. You did not know.” You assure them, turning and kissing Oberyn fiercely. “Tell me that it worked.” You can see his brow knit together in confusion. Looking around and lowering your voice, you whisper, “tell me a Lannister is dead. Their cups were poisoned.”

Oberyn frowns, wondering what you mean until he remembers the death of Joffrey. “My love. Joffrey…he’s dead.” He declares, “he’s dead and he - you - you took the same wine to poison it? What if - it could’ve killed you. I thought it did.” He chokes, pressing his forehead against yours. “Why did you do that?” He demands to know, not wanting to believe that you did something so stupid yet so genius.

“To avenge my dear Elia, to repay them for the anguish that they have brought to our family.” You give a small giggle, pleased that you had taken out the king - the one that would hurt their egos and house the most. “Forgive me for not telling you.” You beg, looking from Oberyn to Ellaria. “I knew you would not let me go through with it if you knew. My plan was to drink only a little and get sick so there were no doubts cast on our house. I have been exposing myself to the poison over the last few weeks to build up a tolerance.”

Oberyn pulls you even closer, “you silly woman. What - the baby - you aren’t - you aren’t with child?” He asks, confusion on his face as he wonders why you’ve been so off lately. You’ve been a genius, seeking revenge in a way that no one would know but he prays you are okay after the maester inspects you.

You shake your head gently and reach out to cup his cheek. “I would never put your child in danger.” You promise him. “My symptoms were because of the poison and the antidote I was using.” You explain. “I am sorry I worried you. I was hoping more of those bastards would drink. But at least we can know we took her son from her and her daughter prefers living in Dorne.”

Oberyn kisses your forehead, relieved that you are okay. “Do not fret, my love. We will ensure you are with child soon enough.” He chuckles, “I am just relieved you are well. I could not live without my sun. Gods…I adore you.” He vows, cupping your cheeks as he presses his lips to yours, sweet and chaste in a reminder that you are okay.

You smile, reaching out to cup your husband’s cheek and you reach out to take Ellaria’s hand with your free one. “I love you.” You murmur to them both. “They have learned that Lannisters are not the only ones who pay their debts.”

Oberyn kisses your forehead. “No, the Martells get their revenge.” He responds, unable to believe he’s married to such a formidable woman. He could never live without you, ever. You are everything to him. You always have been. You are the light of his life. His sun.

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witchofhimring · 1 year ago

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Loyalty Chapter 7 (part2)

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell Reader

Aemond Targaryen x Ellyn Baratheon

Alys x Aemond Targaryen

Jaecerion Targaryen x Reader

Jason Lannister x Reader (minor)

(more to come!)

Y/n Tyrells Profiles

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, childbirth, emotional turmoil, death, unrequited love?, humiliation by Ellyn Baratheon, marital abuse, marital consummation, misogamy (internalized as well as external), brief depictions of smut, Plot twist at the end!

Synopsis: You arrive at Harrenhal after the Blacks make an attempt of your life. It is you, Aemond, Ellyn, and a witch named Alys Rivers.

And they all went pale with what you said next.

"I suppose that is why it must be so difficult for you." Katrina gasped beside you. Unable to take the tension anymore Lady Alana got up, excused herself, and departed. Two others were quick to follow. But the rest remained, caught between horror and a desire to see this unfold. The lady of the castle and the mistresses friend facing of one another. "How long did it take for you to be with child?" Lady Reyne's face twisted. Her hands clenched stretching the pale skin. "What was it again.....three years?" Lady Reyne breathed in through her nose, grey eyes glazing over. At first she looked ready to cry and you felt a pang of victory. Only her eyes hardened, reminiscent of steele daggers. "I hardly believe it is your business, My Lady." Her voice dripped with contempt. You simply laughed. "Do you take me for a fool? I know what you meant by that comment." "And what-" You would not let her finish. "Listen here. It does not matter how many bastards your friend over here provides. She is a whore and will remain so. So it does not matter if my husband goes and decides to give her pleasure because that is all she is good for. A hole to use when his wife it too busy." The tension was physical and seemed to be pressing in from all sides. "That is a pity." You said. All heads snapped to your direction. With a leisurely grin you regarded Lady Reyne. You did not know Lady Reyne very well, but there were small tidbits of gossip divulged for your ears. Perhaps your tactic was cruel. But Lady Reyne never should have crossed words with you in the first place.

Finding this too much Lady Redwyne got up and left, hiding her face from your view. One of the others followed and you made note of that. She would be dismissed from your service. No allie of hers would be in your service. With satisfaction you leaned back in your chair and glared at Lady Reyne. Her fingers flexed, itching to strangle you. With a slight smirk of your face you turned back to sewing. "There is nothing she can do." You thought.

"Lady Reyne and her cousin will be dismissed from my service!" Everyone else had been dismissed as a row broke out. This may not have been your first argument but this time you would not bend. Over and over you had bent to your husbands will. Not this time. It was always you had had to concede to your husbands demands. Putting up with his disrespect, getting rid of Elinor and his mistress. Was it so much that you require respect! "Lady Reyne is a respectable woman. It was your poor behavior-" "Mine....mine!" You looked murderous. Had you been a vicious woman you would have leapt at him with nails. "Your mistress dares show her face to me and I am disrespectful!? Tell me dear husband, does she have your tail as well as your balls?" Jason Lannister's hand shot and and calloused fingers seized your throat. "If it were not for that child I would discipline you. Do you know what we do to women who do not curb their tongues?" "Do you know what we do whores in Highgarden?" For a moment Jason Lannister's hand tightened and his dark eyes looked like pools of hate. He might have struck you down at that moment were it not for the babe. "Do not think that just because you are my wife you can insult me." "And I will say the same to you. Just because you are my husband does not mean you can insult me." He let go of you. "Very well. Have it your way. But when their families come asking why their daughters have been spurned I will tell them why." "You do that then." You turned on your heal and stormed right out.

Whatever fondness had grown between you and your husband was gone. The two of you could hardly look at each other these days. Breakfast was taken in stony silence and then it was off to your own duties. The brief period of cheerfulness had dissipated as the war dragged on. There was no more lounging on cushions gossiping away. Now people talked in hushed voices.

Your pregnancy would not be hidden any longer. The maids and ladies had started to catch on to the changes in your body as soon everyone knew. When the news reached Rhaenyra you did not know. In your room was the only place you felt safe. By the window you would sit and try to hear the trees rustle in the distance. These days, you could hardly hear it and the little voices it carried. Sometimes you felt like running away into the woods. Here it was so lonely. You remembered those happier days and it pained you. No letters had come from Kings Landing. It seemed everyone had forgotten about you. Only Flora had written to you once, but that was it. You wondered what Prince Aemond was doing. Most likely enjoying wedded bliss these days. All those years of friendship must have meant nothing to him. Prince Aemond had Ellyn, Jason Lannister had Lady Redwyne. So where did that leave you? The only person that loved you was far away and you had no idea if she was even alive. Your parents must have loved you and by any Gods out there you wished they were still here. Jaecerion had at least was alive. But for how long you did not know. If you died would anyone even mourn you. For who had shown you any loyalty in your life. Everyone wished for love and affection, however they might deny it. For who did not want to be loved and told they are irreplaceably cherished? What had you done to deserve such a fate as not to feel that? Jaecerion felt something (whether that was love or not was as of now beyond you). But it counted for little since you did not love him back. But if this was how you felt did you then have the right to hold hurt against Prince Aemond. Discomfort crept upon you at the idea that you may have placed Jaecerion in the same place that you yourself were?

"Go back." The voices whispered to you. But you continued down that dark tunnel to the other side. There was a light at the end so it hardly made sense to veer off path into the darkness. The voices got louder and pitched and you walked faster. Branches tore at your arms in a desperate attempt to hold you back. But you forced yourself free and ran. For a brief moment you saw a woman's face, pale with black hair and piercing green eyes. It was only for that moments before her hands seized yours and pulled you through to the other side. The you were all alone. And blood pooled from your wrists. "You should turn back."

A spasm of fear woke you. Breathing became an effort as the terror you felt was so profound it might choke. There was a low breathing and you placed a hand on Lady Alana's back. She was not moving. A warm thick liquid was dripping down her spin. The sticky metallic scent of blood suddenly hit you. Then there was someone breathing out of sight. It was right behind you and suddenly the realization dawned. In a moment you had scrambled over Lady Alana's body before the assasin could grab you. A cloaked figure stood, knife drawn. In the moonlight you could see Lady Alana's blood shinning on its metal. "This is for Vaeron Velaryon. His mother the Queen sends her regards." They were going to kiss you like they did Jaecerys. There had been a pool of blood there his headless body lay. Now it was your own in his place. On instinct you fled into the bathroom. The door slammed behind you and with a click it was locked. Shaking, you backed away from it. You bumped into something and cowered, only to see it was the bathtub. The room was completely dark. Only moonlight came in through the window and you realized he might come in through there too. So you did the only thing that came to mind.

For Gods know how long you hid in that cupboard hardly daring to breath. Every noise gave you cause for fear. Any moment you waited for the searing pain of a knife plunged into your belly. There was still blood on you, Lady Alana's. She had not even been the intended target and yet she was killed. When the door opened you covered you mouth. It slammed against the wall and the scent of blood nearly overpowered you. "My Lady!" Thank the Gods, it was Lady Mari! You staggered out of the cupboard, a terrified Lady Mari raced towards you. "Oh thank the Gods!" You had never seen her cry before. Usually impeccable, the lady's hair was let lose and her whole face was swollen with shed tears. A wail pierced the air and you knew they had found her body. "They've killed her." The words suddenly made it feel so dreadfully real. Lady Alana, who had been nothing but kind now lay dead at ten and eight years of age. When you walked back to the room there she lay, blood splattered across her thin throat. Her golden hair would never know the sun again, green eyes now unable to take in the brightness of the day. Days of sitting and reading love poems and laughing with friends were ended. You watched her loved ones wail around her corpse and lament the life that was lost. Despite everything, you were just as powerless as a Dowager Queen's lady-in-waiting.

The assassin had disappeared into the night. Nevertheless there was no question as to who was responsible. No word came from Dragonstone but Rhaenyra had ordered you death. Only it was Lady Alana who payed the ultimate price. "Just as Lucerys payed with his." You thought. You wondered on your old malice and realized you felt quite sad at the boys death. There was hatred but now his death brought no satisfaction. In your dreams blood mingled from dead bodies, only to grotesquely twist into a tree with many faces. The desire to tell someone about these nightmares was great but for fear of being labeled a witch you held your tongue. By now you had come to the conclusion that these were no mere dreams. Perhaps they were a punishment from the Gods for the malice you held. But was it so wrong when it was against those who had injured you so? And then there was the woman that would appear. For the past few nights you had visions of her in which she pulled close. Her green eyes reminded you of the description of dancing light across the sky in the north. Her hair was a pitch black, darker than dark. The skin was pale as snow without a mark to blemish it. Was the one of the Gods, old or new? What you were sure of was that there was something otherworldly to her looks. She was as beautiful as the Maiden, with all the terror of the Stranger.

You now slept in your husbands bed. There were no windows there and guards by every door. Constantly you were attended, with each person being checked before stepping in. Normally this would be suffocating but such as your fear that it made such conditions a mercy. Sometimes you found yourself looking for Lady Alana amongst the faces around. And each time it felt you bitter. By now your grief had turned to rage and you prayed Rhaenyra would meet just as cruel a fate. Maybe Daemon would reach such an end as to have his throat cut. After all, he was the one who orchestrated Blood and Cheese to kill poor Prince Jaehaerys. Some said Rhaenyra had no involvement, but you would not believe it. She just just as cruel as her husband.

Day were spent sewing for the baby. Thankfully Lady Reyne and her friend were absent from this circle. The idea that your husbands mistress had ordered the assassination did cross your mind. But it was unlikely as you were told her things were searched. Besides, although the assassins identity remained unknown everyone knew that they were in the employ of Daemon Targaryen. You were of a mind to purchase an assassin of your own and take someone he cared about. Perhaps one of his children. Then the hideous impulse vanished leaving you with great shame. Then the frustration came and you cursed your bleeding heart. Once in such times you might have prayed, but those days were past. You were utterly alone in this world.

"I believe it to be best we find another location for you." Jason Lannister brought you into his study. "For my safety?" You inquired. He nodded. "But My Lord, is Casterly Rock not safer than other places? Even the Red Keep would place me in greater peril." That was only half of it. You never wanted to see that infernal place again. Where once it was you home it now only held sour memories. "Casterly Rock is safe. But there are safer locations for you to reside." "Where?" Your thoughts went to Highgarden. It had been years since that place had been your home. But you felt a great longing to go back to those gardens. Jason Lannister let out a sigh and placed a stamp on a letter. "Prince Jaecerion Targaryen will escort you to a secret location for the time being." You felt a thrill, at least a friend would remain. "Do you know where?" Jason Lannister nodded but said nothing more. "So, will you be telling me?" "Not as of now. This journey will be made in the upmost secrecy." You wanted to argue. Not this time. The terse tone told you no amount of arguing would help your case. "Will I be taking any of my ladies?" "Yes. Lady Mari, Clarissa Casterly and my niece Katrina will join. I trust Lady Katrina's presence will be welcome?" There was the smallest smile on his face. "That would please me very greatly." There was a small light for you in this darkness. Katrina's presence would be so welcome. If Lady Alana had still been living she might have joined. Your hand went to your belly.

Your disappearance was to be made in the upmost secrecy. Most of your things were to be left behind and replacements would be made. Jason Lannister tried to comfort you with the notion that your belonging would be protected for your return. "If I return." You thought. The longer war dragged on the more hopeless you situation seemed to be. Every day you waited for word on Jaecerions location. He and several companions would be racing across the continent to take you away. His dragon would be left at Kings Landing.

Bad tidings did come, but not from Jaecerion or the war. Upon hearing that Katrina would be going with you Tyshara kicked up a fuss. Under no circumstances would Katrina be going with you. So now you had lost a friend and instead Lady Dara would be accompanying you. While amiable, it did not stop you from hating the girl. You hoped one day Tyshara would find herself as alone as you were now. Even a girl of ten and four years had more power than you.

Because the sea was not an option it took a month for Jaecerion to finally arrive. You were worried he might not arrive in time as the Riverlands fell into chaos. With so much in flames you worried for his safety. Although the future scared you leaving this place might be for the best. As of late this place had become a pretty golden cage. The stone walls started to remind you of the dungeons. One time many years ago, you and Aemond had thought it wise to explore the dungeons that Maegor the Cruel had constructed. They said that the voices of those trapped and forgotten down there still echoed. Instead of taking this as a warning the two of you went down. At some point Aemond took on path, you took another and before anyone knew it the pair were lost. Terrified, you had cried and consigned yourself to the thought that you would be forgotten down here. Thankfully that was not your fate. But Dowager Queen Alicent (though she was Queen Alicent then) gave the pair of you the scolding of a lifetime. This is how you felt right now, trapped.

A hand on your mouth first woke you up. Horror seized you before silver hair came into vision. Jaecerion smiled down at you and brushed some hair back. "Ready to leave?' His voice was low. Without saying a word you flung your arms around him. Tears bordered on your vision but the impulse to weep was stifled. There was immense relief and profound grief. Lady Alana should be the one sleeping beside you, not Lady Dara. You wondered if she liked trips and it occurred that such a question had never been asked. All at once you wanted to ask her so many questions. Questions that as of now could not be answered. Jaecerion took your face in his hands and his lips ghosted your hairline. "I've missed you." "I too." You tooked up at his beautiful face and suddenly had to urge to kiss him. His lips were a soft pink, delicate as a flower petal. But you remembered the bonds of marriage and so desisted. You rolled up and woke Lady Dara who slumped out of bed. With ill grace she gathered everything. Well, she should not have drank so much last night. Lady Mari and Lady Clarissa came in, cloaks and bags in hand.

"We will be leaving through a passage. Lord Jason will see you off My Lady." Lady Clarissa said. You nodded and the five of you tip toed out. Four guards were sent to flank the party. In every shadow you expected someone to jump out. But everyone got to a statue of a lion tucked away on the lower floor. Jaecerion pulled out a key and unlocked it. A low grinding noise scraped the stone as the lion moved sideways. One of the guards descended the ladder first. Then Jaecarion, then you, and lastly all the rest. It was uncomfortably claustrophobic though thankfully short. Ahead you smelt the ocean and heard waves. A guard knocked on the metal door and it opened revealing a host of twenty and your husband. Jason Lannister told Jaecrion to step aside so he could help you down. "How are you feeling?" He inquired. "Well." Horses nervously pawed at the sand. There was a sense of anxiety in the air. This mission would either be successful or lead to disaster. "You will not be riding long." Jaecerion took you bags and saddled a horse with them. You pulled your cloak tighter as the wind picked up. Were there any dragons in the sky tonight? You imagined Syrax circling the castle, hunting. Although from what you heard Rhaenyra had been laid low as of late. Her stillbirth had apparently damaged her body even after she seemed to have recovered. That was of little comfort, scratch that it brought none, as Daemon would be the more likely candidate. You remembered how he had taken Vaemond Velaryon's head off in one strike.

"My Lady, may we speak?" Jason Lannister looked ill at ease. No doubt worry for his heir. The two of you walked a short distance before he said his piece. "I suppose this is the last we will see of each other for a while. Perhaps, Gods willing, you will have a son in your arms." He looked down at your expanding belly. You wondered that if it had not been for your present condition if he would have even bothered to keep you safe. "I do hope it is a boy." Was all you said. Truth was that while you had the words you could not speak them. Months of pain still lingered. You just wished that for once you could let it out. First with Prince Aemond and then with Jason Lannister. So although the words rested on your tongue nothing further was said. He bid you farewell, a kiss, and then let you go. Jaecerion helped out onto a horse and you turned around to get one last look at your husband. He would be leading an army to the Red Fork come tomorrow. Your horse snorted and you began to trot away from Casterly Rock, looking no more at your husband.

You rode through the night till everything hurt. In the early morning everyone stopped at a small but impenetrable looking fortress. It was Lady Clarissa's mother who provided the sanctuary. Lady Casterly fussed over her daughters appearance despite Lady Clarissa's protests. You envied the maternal affection she took for granted. As of late you had started to miss what could have been with a ferocity you were unfamiliar with. If you had a mother would everything have been better? Perhaps she might have advocated for you when Jason Lannister continued his affair with Lady Redwyne. If you had a father he might have defended you against Ellyn. Perhaps that was the reason you were perceived as such a weak target. The little orphan girl with no siblings. The memories of your mother were brief, but she loved to smile and dress you in green. She sang too, although you could not remember the words. Father's memory was more clear. He had bright e/c eyes and would pick you up in his arms. One day, when you had felt very lonely, he had made a swing for you in the garden. You wondered if it was still there. Probably not.

Traveling was not so bad. Lady Clarissa and Jaecerion provided good enough company. As it turned out Lady Clarissa knew much in the way of herbs and plants. She brewed a sweet tea that helped settle your stomach. She showed you a leather bound book with various recipes. Most impressive, as many upper-class lords and ladies hardly bothered. Such tasks were left to maesters and midwives. But you were grateful Lady Clarissa took to the study. Jaecerion was all over you, making sure everything was up to par. You need only ask and he would give. "I am quite well, Jaecerion. There is no need to worry." You laughed over Jaecerion's fussing. He propped your feet on a pillow. "It is your first baby Y/n. We must be careful." Jaecerion lectures. You rolled you eyes and giggled. Leading up to the escape you had been so worried. But these days you were happier than ever. The fortress was in the middle of a lusious fortress. Surrounding it were leaves and for the first time in what felt like ages you clearly heard the rustling of trees. But as beautiful as they were nothing could compare to the forest near Casterly Rock. There was something archaic about the very energy of that forest. No murmurs came to you from its dark depths.

"How long do you think we will stay here?" You asked Jaecerion. Together the two of you took a short walk around the fortress. It was fairly safe is there were scouts ahead and guards posted. He had hold of one arm, helping you walk. Your belly had expanded to the point were every step was heavy. "Gods know. Although I do not think this is so bad." He looked down at you. "Do you not miss home?" You questioned. "I believe home is where you make it." His purple eyes, darker than any of his siblings. His gaze was so intense you might evaporate on the spot. You knew his feelings by now. There was no need to put them in words as his actions were so clear. What you did not know was how to proceed. The other great mystery was your own feeling. What did you feel for him? What you did know was that breaking his heart was out of the question. Maybe if you had never given you heart to Prince Aemond things might have been different. Had you returned Jaecerion's feelings at an earlier date this whole mess might have been avoided. You imagine that in another lifetime the two of you could have been happy.

"I think ones home is whom they devote themselves." His cold hands took yours. You looked into his eyes and tried to find the courage to respond. "Where is your home Y/n?" That was yet another question you could not answer. Who could you call your home? Once you would have said Prince Aemond or Elinor. But they were long gone. And you felt that if you said it was Jaecerion you would be lying. His silver hair had reached past his shoulders now. Its likeness was his mothers, wavy. "In truth I do not know. I have been so confused lately I can hardly label any of my emotions." You squeezed his hands in a plea that he would not be hurt. You remembered the young body who was so emotional. It was quite unlike his brother King Aegon and Prince Aemond. King Aegon's emotions always felt muted, like something left to fester that no longer had the same bite it once did. Prince Aemond's was cold as ice, shielding himself from all. But Jaecerion was open. That was what you liked about him. You never had to guess. "Do you see yourself making a home, just for you?" He brought your hands in so that they rested on his chest. "It is just....well I am married." You prayed this would be enough for him, that Jaecerion understand. If you gave yourself to him the consequences could be dire. Then worse, people could speculate whether your child was truly a Lannister. You had seen how they regarded Rhaenyra and knew the trouble it could lead to. Jaecerion would also likely not fare any better. Jason Lannister may wish to take his revenge in some way. You heard the story of how Harwin Strong, the true son to Rhaenyra's first three sons, had been burned alive in his fathers keep. Some said it was the ghosts of Harrenhal. Others that is was Daemon Targaryen in all his jealousy. You did not wish for such a fate to befall Jaecerion. But there was one small thing you did. Before anyone could come upon you Jaecerion was pulled into a hug. He sighed and wrapped his arms around you. "Take you time Y/n, take you time."

Jaecerion had snuck out that night and come back in the morning. When you asked him where he had been he told you air was desired. You understood, although you did lecture him about safety. He just smiled and took your hand in his. Days passed in a peaceful lull. No longer were you sitting around glumly. Being away from your husband and all the rest of them had done wonders. Each morning was a bright new day to be enjoyed. Lady Casterly was just as hands on as her daughter. In fact she knew how to cook and you had the delight of tasting some of it. She taught you to make bread and which spices to use. You had never viewed baking as an art but now you realized that it was not so easy. You had half a mind to just stay here forever. Let the war rage outside, here was your paradise.

It did not last long.

Your dreams had quieted themselves as of late. But one night they came back. There was a great battlefield, blood pooling up to your knees. Men lay dying or dead. Crows feasted on the dead in a great feast. Everything was a mess of brown and red, except the little butterflies which lay drowned. You picked one up only for its winds to disintegrate in your fingertips. Eyes following its decent, they lay on Jason Lannister, pale, opened eyed, and dead. You reached down but he too sunk into the bloody depths. Blood rushed like water past your knees as something took form behind you. Turning, you were met with a monstrous looking Weirwood tree, its many faces crying out in agony. Only it morphed into something else. Two people there stood. One with purple eyes and the other a bright green.

You felt strange waking up that morning. Not solely from the dream, but the feeling that something bad had happened. Some dreadful event had taken place. When you inquired upon Lady Casterly if she had reviced new the answer was no. So why did you feel so dreadful? The answer came in the form of a great black stallion. Then you exited the fortress he knelt and gave you grave news. Jason Lannister was dead, knifed from behind by some unknown individual. Although the day was won for King Aegon the Lord of Casterly Rock was gone. A heavy wheeze left your lips as reality came crashing down. If he was dead then what was your fate? This babe in your belly might very well be the next heir. They would never know their father, just as you were fatherless. You had never particularly liked your husband. But to wish dead had never occurred to you.

Jaecerion lead you inside. Just you and him. The knight and Lady Casterly went into her solar. You collapsed onto your bed and let out a sob. This was terrifying. What would happen to you now? What could fate possibly have in store for you now? Jaecerion hushed you and stroked your hair. You leaned into him for any form of comfort. You were a widow with an unborn child. Could any God be so cruel! Any time you found happiness in some form it was snatched. After a short reprieve from your agony it all started over again.

Jaecerion laid beside you on the bed. One of his hands found purchase in your head. His head leaned against yours letting you hear his slow breath. His other hand caressed you right hand. His thumb gently tracing every crease in your palm. It reminded you of old times when Prince Aemond would be busy and his twin would find you. In those days you sneaked him sweets. He had been such a cute boy back then and you would be a fool to not realize how handsome he had become. You inched closer to him. The lack of distance no longer bothered you. Jason Lannister was dead leaving you free. Although the sudden excitement over you sudden freedom made you feel guilty. Jason Lannister had not been the worst husband. He never laid a hand on you. If the Seven truly did exist then you were damned in their eyes. Every wife was meant to serve and obey her lord. Even a Queen must follow that path.

"Did you love him?" Jaecerion asked. "Never." Crudely put, but true. Either way, you doubted he had loved you either. Jaecerion let go of your hand in favour of placing it on your belly. You suddenly gasped as a sensation you'd never felt before caused you to tense. "Oh!" Jaecerion sat up. "Are you alright!" He looked worried. "Yes...I think the baby just moved." In wonder your hands went to the belly. For most of the pregnancy the baby had been still. But suddenly it wanted to move. You and Jaecerion sat there for a few moments until it happened again. A watery laugh escaped you as tears formed. It was a most mystifying and amazing sensation. This was your baby. The child you could give all your love to. You swore that whatever happened you would protect him or her till the end. No matter the cost. "It is not hurting you?" Jaecerion observed your belly. It occurred to you that Jaecerion might not be totally happy about this. Given his feelings for you the baby might not bring him joy. This was the remnant of another mans seed within you. Many men would not tolerate that. But Jaecerion leaned down, and to your shock, pressed the softest of kisses on the bump.

"I have to leave? Already?" All of a sudden Lady Casterly informed you of your departure. When pressing for more information anxiety broke over and she plead with you to get ready. What was even more concerning was when you were informed that no one was coming with you. All your ladies were to catch up weeks later. What you did not understand was why. Something had happened and you were not being told. But no one yielded up information. Not even Jaecerion. What you did notice was the sudden sour mode that had overcome him. He glumly clung to your side, one arm around the waist. Lady Casterly shot looks every now and then. Even the three ladies who attended you shared looks of concern. Lady Mari was quick to lecture you on it, only for Jaecerion to shoot her a withering glare. For the rest of the time Lady Mari avoided you. Not that this was any cause for grief.

You would be departing at nightfall for your destination. It was cold out so this was not a journey you looked forward to. "I will not leave you for long." Jaecerion said as he fastened your cloak buckle. He made sure you were warm before giving you his leather gloves. "You are giving me these? But will you not need them for your dragon?" Jaecerion had a special pair of gloves for when riding his dragon. They were sturdy, warm and had a good grip. Why he was giving them to you when any pair would have been fine was a mystery. Although perhaps it was the sentiment of it. It made you feel warm that someone cared so much for you. "I will be fine." Jaecerion soothed. He looked over your body. A deep rumble sounded from above. The familiar vibration seeped into your bones as you realized who had just arrived.

Everyone ran outside to see Vhaegar land. Her mouth stretched out showing enormous deadly death. On top was Prince Aemond astride the great beast. You felt Jaecerion's hand tighten on your hip, fingertips digging in. Prince Aemond descended and it struck you how familiar he looked. A wave of nostalgia came over you as the boy who had been a friend for so long came closer. The past few months had helped block his memory to an extent. But now with him so close everything else seemed to fall away.

"Brother." Prince Aemond regarded his brother. You felt an intense tension between the two Princes. While the bond of brother-ship had never been close never before had you felt this level of animosity. A tick in Prince Aemond's jaw was prominent. Jaecerion's hand was heavy on you. "Am I traveling on Vhaegar." As the realization dawned on you terror started to settle. You had never been on Vhaegar and frankly enough there was no desire to do so. Sensing you fear, Jaecerion turned you to him. "You need not worry Y/n. There is a harness for you and my brother is capable of getting you to Harrenhal." Alarmed, you looked between both brothers.

"Harrenhal?" Did they truly mean to keep you in that dreaded fortress? The one where thousands of slaves toiled and died for Harren the Black. The place where ghosts haunted and wiped out family lines. Your hand went to the baby. "I will make sure you are safe. Nothing will happen to you whilst under my protection." "Though technically she is under mine, Jaecerion." A sneer curled over the Prince's handsome face. "I believe such a statement is more comforting coming from me." "I am not sure what you are implying." Prince Aemond's voice was deeper and upon further inspection you realized there was a difference. There were lines upon his brow that were not there before. His eyes looked like pools of icy pools, unfeeling, cold, emotionless. You opened your mouth to make sure he was alright. But such familiarities would be inappropriate and so you kept silent. But your eyes did not leave his face.

"Shall we?" Prince Aemond gestured to his dragon. You would have said no. But you knew there was not much of a choice. Trying not to shake you allowed Prince Aemond to assist you in climbing up. Each breath Vhaegar took caused you to jolt. How any Targaryen could willingly ride such a beast was beyond you. Majestic from the outside but bloody terrifying up close. Prince Aemond secured a harness around your waist before his own. His right arm secured itself around your waist with the left taking the reins. Vhaegar's wings spread out, the sheer force bent the trees. You gave Jaecerion one last petrified look before Vhaegar took to the skies.

he initial take-off was terrifying. You closed your eyes and tried to block out Vhaegar's climb into the sky. If you had your wits about you Prince Aemond's close proximity would have been disconcerting. Only your fear was so intense nothing else mattered. After some time you forced you eyes to open. The first sight was the moon in its full splendor. Speechless, this time from wonder instead of fear. Daring to look to the side you saw the forest was simply a great stretch of black. For the first time you felt a thrill of elation instead of fear. Now you knew why the Targaryens loved their dragons. Although your hands were gloved you felt the dragons powerful muscles work underneath. Resisting the urge to take off your gloves and feel the scales, hands busied themselves on the reins. You remembered the first time Prince Aemond introduced you to Vhaegar. Her scales had dumps but was smooth.

For the rest of the ride you remained carefully seeing what was bellow. You were lulled into a sense of relaxation. Completely forgetting you were thousands of feet from the ground. Eventually you felt the course change and Vhaegar's great head angled down. "We will see Harrenhal soon." Prince Aemond's mouth was by your ear. Soon enough the twisted, blackened towers of Harrenhal came into view. You felt a chill that was not from the wind.

Suddenly all the breath left your body. Someone had ahold of your neck and they were squeezing. Green eyes peered down at you, looking into your very soul. You were so cold, all surrounding forgotten. A silky, seductive voice crooned into you ears. Locks of black hair licked your shoulders. Her white fingertips bruising your arms. Far in the distance someone called to you. It got louder and then as suddenly as it began you were pulled back to reality. Vhaegar was descending and Prince Aemond was calling out. His arm was painfully tight around your ribs. Vhaegar landed with an almighty thud, shaking the ground. Prince Aemond undid your harness and got you off Vhaegar. "Y/n!" Disoriented, you looked up at your one time friend. He sat settled you on the ground with his knee supporting your back. "I....I am fine. Just dizzy." Your voice was hoarse from the cold air. It was best not to tell him the truth. Having Prince Aemond know of your visions was a ludicrous idea. You would not be dragged to the stake or witchcraft. Prince Aemond picked you up. He brought you into the castle and suddenly the air went stale. The air made the place feel like a tomb. Even in your state the very essence of this place felt foreboding. He placed you gently onto the ground with care. "Are you sure a maester is not required?" Prince Aemond's hand was still on your shoulder. "Yes I am fine." You insisted. Finally relenting, Prince Aemond called over two maids and ordered them to prepare you for dinner. "We will have dinner shortly. If there is anything you require, only ask." Prince Aemond then immediately turned on his heel and left. "My Lady, this way."

Your room was at the top of one of Harrenhal's towers. Looking out you saw a vast forest cast in shadow. You bed had an oak frame with a luxurious red cover. A fire crackled in the large fireplace, the only source of light. A bronze basin came in making you miss the marble tub at Casterly Rock. They bathed you and afterwards a deep green dress was placed on the bed. Brown fur graced the sleeves and neckline. They helped you into it, black lace up the back. In the mirror you realized it was slightly more low cut than what was usually worn by ladies. A style in the Riverlands by any chance. They did a simple half updo leaving the rest cascading down. The was a beautiful simplicity to the outfit. You gazed at yourself in the mirror, indulging in you vanity. Another maid came in saying dinner was ready.

It was a long walk to the dinning hall. You noticed a surprising amount of rooms were vacant. From those dark empty spaces came a low groan. The darkness was a living, breathing thing in this place. And all the while you felt strange eyes on you. Dinner would not be taken in the great hall. Walking by you dared to take a quick look. Dilapidated, it looked to be on the verge of utter ruin. In its day it must have been a great place. You imagined the Ironborn having long banquets in here when Harrenhal was in splendor. A pity, so much was lost for a castle whos heydays were less than a year. Now look at this place, full of death and ruin. A smaller room was used. Guards stood by the iron door. A strange creature was carved into the iron. It had many arms and a strange face. It was definitely a sea dweller. You had seen it in books. They opened and a warm room greeted you. Torches lined the walls along with a roaring fireplace. What made it considerably less inviting was Prince Aemond and Ellyn. It had been months since your last encounter when she had mocked you for Jason Lannister's infidelity and possible barrenness. It occurred to you that Ellyn may be unaware of your state. She turned to you with a look as poisonous as ever. At least there was no smirk to be seen. "Lady Y/n. Welcome." Prince Aemond greeted. You gave a shallow curtsy before taking a seat. It was just the three of you.

You were sitting right across from Ellyn. Her blue eyes were rife with poisonous intent. Her long nails taped on the table and you remembered how she once used those on Elinor. "I hope your journey went well." Choosing to ignore you Ellyn turned to her husband. On her face was something more nauseating than a sneer. A fake smile, which was truly an accomplishment as her sneers were absolutely horrid. She batted her eyelashes as Ellyn played the role of perfect lady. "All went well." Prince Aemond replied stiffly. Something faltered in Ellyn's face. In truth you were also disconcerted. Not that you cared for that woman but Prince Aemond was......off. Of course it could just be chalked up to exhaustion. You focused on the meal before you. The sooner this was over the sooner you could leave. Only it seemed Ellyn was unwilling to let you leave unscathed. She turned predatory eyes to you. Your fingers closed over the cutlery. "I am so sorry to hear of your husbands demise. Of course despite everything I am sure you miss them all." Mockery was dripping from her voice. Prince Aemond turned to his wife. "What do you mean by that." Ellyn remained unfazed. "We all heard of the difficulties Y/n had with her step daughter. I was just saying that despite the difficulties Y/n must have faced I am sure she loved her husband very much." "Of course I did. Although I am unsure why you felt the need to bring up my step daughter." You replied cooly. Ellyn's lip twitched and she flipped her hair behind. "I only meant it out of concern. And with no heir your place in rather unstable. And pardon me but you do look different then when I last saw you. Why your waist has noticeable thickened-" "Ellyn!" Prince Aemond looked mortified. He turned to you and to your surprise he apologized her her behavior. "It is quite alright. Although you wife is worried for the wrong reasons." Ellyn looked both angry and confused. You gave Ellyn a sneer that could rivaled hers on her best day.

"You need not worry about my position. But I see the news has not yet reached you." Ellyn looked back between you and a curious Prince Aemond. You placed you hand on your belly and only then did Ellyn properly see the expansion of your belly. All the colour went from her face. No longer able to breath properly, her mouth fell open. "So you see, there is no need to worry about me. And the maesters say it will be a boy." Even Prince Aemond looked stunned, although unlike Ellyn there was no rage. "To Lady Y/n and her unborn son." Prince Aemond picked up a glass. You followed suit and looked at the still stunned Ellyn. There was no trace of beauty in her face. She looked ready to be sick. Her hands were fists on the table. "Are you not going to raise a glass to Lady Y/n and her heir?" Out of the shadows came a woman. She was tall, terrible and yet so beautiful at the same time. Her black hair hung in waves, moved like silk in the air. A blood red dress hung from her curves. Lastly, you saw those green eyes. At that moment you recognized her. She glided over to the table and poured herself a glass. She picked it up and turned her attention onto you. Her eyes were solely focused on you, as if you were the only thing that mattered. "We have been waiting for you, My Lady. My Name is Alys Rivers."

Note: Ahhhhh! I've been waiting to get this part out since the chapter three! Anyway, here is the long awaited chapter.

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blushing-in-space · 11 months ago

Text

Deception

-> anakin skywalker

Summary: [Based on Clone Wars; S4 Ep15] As a Jedi Knight, it’s part of your duty to follow the orders of the Jedi Council, no matter how taxing or dangerous the task. You are given a highly classified mission that not only may end in your death but requires complete secrecy from everyone- Even your lover Anakin Skywalker.

Warnings: ANGST, Death, murder, blood, slight gore, loss of loved ones, grieving process. Probably inaccurate use of the force and force healing

-> I looked at the message before me, brows furrowed. No, this couldn’t be right… Would the Jedi Council ask this of me? Something so classified sounds like it should be a mission of a Jedi Master, not a knight like me.

Mace Windu’s face was all the answer I needed. His eyes were slits as he looked down at me, face set seriously. His fellow council members had a similar expression.

“It is of the utmost importance no word spoken here leaves this room. Is that understood, [name]?” Windu repeats to me.

I have no choice but to nod my head. I serve the Galactic Republic, I cannot let my relationships meddle in my duties as a Jedi Knight.

I bowed my head, “Yes, masters. It will be done.”

——

“What’s the big rush?” Anakin smirks as I carry myself hastily down the dimly lit alleyway we always take when returning to the Jedi Temple from the port.

Ahsoka trails behind us both, thankfully oblivious to Anakin’s wandering hands. I did not agree to her being here and had suggested she take the shuttle home, knowing it would be safer for the young padawan. But like her master, Ahsoka was stubborn and determined to join us for the meeting I had lied about. I feared for her safety- I hope she will not be there when the time comes.

I glance over at Anakin, forcing a playful smile to adorn my lips as I would have in normal circumstances. “I’m not rushing. I’m just trying to get to the council meeting on time.”

I ignore Anakin as he rolls his eyes. “I can see it now- another boring debate I’ll sleep through,” he sighs, though his eyes linger on me and I can’t help but notice it.

We fell for each other when we were just padawans, and have remained loving by one another’s side for almost four years. While I was fairly good at hiding stolen looks and the brush of our hands, Anakin on the other hand doesn’t seem to understand the strategy of hiding our relationship.

He struggles more than I do with our relationship. It frustrates him so easily when he cannot pull me into a kiss after not seeing me for weeks, or to just wrap his arm around me as we walk as I can tell he wants to do now. I’ve known from the start about Anakin’s unusually strong emotional side for a Jedi. That is what makes me especially nervous for tonight.

“Luckily I’ll have you to keep my company,” Anakin mutters to me in a quiet and husky tone, his hand reaching to touch the crease of my waist.

I shoot him a look of warning, glancing over at Ahsoka who was just a few steps behind him. He’s lucky she happened to be looking away and had not looked too deeply into his words.

“If it's so boring for you, would you rather them call you in to train younglings?” I look smugly over my shoulder to Anakin, who grimaces at my comment while Ahsoka huffs a light laugh.

“I think you would enjoy that, master,” Ahsoka quips sarcastically as she steps to Anakin’s side, and he scuffs and looks away from his apprentice.

“As I thought.”

I try to keep up a high-spirited mood while with Anakin before my time comes to act. I see Anakin smiling, his lips parted to make another smart-assed comment. I give him a cheeky smile. After tonight I won’t see him again for yet another long week. And I know that week will be devastating for him.

He doesn’t hide anything from me. He’s told me how he held his mother in his arms and watched the life drain from her eyes. I’m aware he fears the same fate will reach another of his loved ones. Every time I leave for a battle I promise to him I’ll be safe and will return safely to his arms. Now I have been gagged by the Jedi Council from telling him the truth of what I must do. The guilt is almost unbearable having to keep such a secret from my own lover.

Anakin’s blue eyes search mine, I feel him wield the force to poke into my mind. I raise a brow at his perceptiveness. Does he know? I shake him, cutting off his access to my mind through the force. I don’t like it when he does that and he knows it. His brows furrow as he feels the loss of our connection, but he does not pry at my barrier. I nod to him in a silent already broken promise that we will talk later.

Our unspoken words distracted me so much that I almost wouldn’t have sensed the blaster shot coming toward me if Ahsoka had not warned me.

I roll to the side, taking cover behind the nearby crates. I whip my head around to see Anakin and Ahsoka have done the same, both of their backs pinned to the crates opposite of me. My blood pumps furiously through my veins. I should have let the shot take me down. The first and undeniable worst part of my mission would already be over.

“Where’d that shot come from?” Ahsoka yells, voice riddled with panic as she looks from me to the roof of an apartment building in the distance.

I show no concern as I peek my head over the crates, catching a glimpse of the bright blinding light of the sniper who had tried to kill me just then. Who I should have let kill me. My heart would be pounding in my chest if it weren’t for the drug I had taken before leaving that would suppress my heartbeat.

I shake off any fear. I won’t die today- I’m following my orders. My duty as a Jedi comes before anything else. Anakin will understand that when I return. I glance over at him and Ahsoka behind the crates opposite of me, and single them to follow my lead. Neither of them questioned my plan for us to split up over on the rooftop.

I feel Anakin trying to push into my mind as I roll behind the next set of crates, another blaster shot barely missing me. I feel his anxiousness about the situation, either for me being in danger or his padawan, I’m not sure. I just feel guilty for what I’m about to put him through.

I climb to the rooftop, keeping my cover as I deflect a shot back at the assassin to not rouse suspicion. I see Anakin has done as I asked him, for once in his life, and spot him heading to flank the shooter. Ahsoka jumps from rooftop to rooftop, taking the back approach to the shooter. I realize my time is running out to start this mission.

Anakin races on the rooftop across from me, taking cover at the same time as I do. He catches my eyes, blue eyes blazing across the darkness of the Coruscant alleyway. He’s going to dart around to get the shooter. I know he is.

“He’s behind the building!” Ahsoka coms to both me and Anakin, and I know this is where I must end this chase.

Anakin’s head whips around to the building across from us, eyes narrowed and his hand goes to grip his saber. I suck in a breath, closing my eyes as I prepare for the pain. I pray to the Maker the blaster-proof vest will be enough to save me from the real threat of death.

I block Anakin completely from my mind before stepping into the wide-open space as a red light hits my chest.

“[name]!” I hear Anakin scream as the assassin's blaster finally hits me, unexpectedly knocking me so far back I fall from the edge of the building and into sudden darkness.

Ahsoka’s heart sinks seeing Master [name] fall from the edge as she rounds the corner. She looks up to see her Master immediately trying to follow [name], attempting to run from his cover but having to soon duck as a blaster shot flies past his face.

“I got her! Go!” Ahsoka called out to Anakin, hiding the fear in her voice as she looked up at him.

Anakin’s eyes widen as he looks down at her, and his face seems to drain of color for a moment. He’s afraid. Ahsoka so rarely sees real fear on her master's face. No matter the battle or injury. His demeanor never falters. His expression is always lax and words smooth, even as he’s faced with danger, but in this moment Ahsoka does not see that familiar bravery in her master now. That is what scares her the most.

She doesn’t watch long enough to notice how Anakin hesitates for far too long before he chases whoever shot [name], she has no time to do anything but rush to the Jedi Knight's side. [name]’s body is completely limp in a pile of boxes and trash, left arm twisted unnaturally. There’s no blood, but a black mark is burned into the knight’s white-robed chest.

Ahsoka pulls [name]’s body from the rumble, panicking when she does not awake. She lifts the knight's head into her lap but freezes her finger above [name’s] neck to check for a pulse. She fears she knows the answer. Ahsoka has watched people die. Despite her age, she’s a commander- she sees death every day. But never someone so close to her. Someone she regarded as a friend. As a sister.

“Master?” Ahsoka whispers as she finally puts her fingers to the soft spot on [name]’s neck. She gulps as she feels nothing, then tries the curve of her wrist. Then feels nothing again. She sucks in a breath as her eyes become glassy at the sight.

Ahsoka hears Anakin drop from the roof and run down to her. “How is she?” He pants, wild blue eyes looking down at them.

Ahsoka can barely move her head to look up at him, and when she does, she nearly lets tears fall. She doesn’t know if she has the words to say it. She knows Anakin and [name] were padawans together. She knows how close the pair are. She only pretends to be blind to her master’s deep attachment to the other Jedi knight for his sake. That’s why she can hardly hold it together when he crouches down to see [name] completely unresponsive.

“[name]?” Anakin says, voice rattling.

Ahsoka doesn’t fight him as he takes [name] from her arms and holds her in his. He brushes her hair away from her face to reveal her eyes closed with death. Ahsoka watches her master's eyes fill with grief as he clutches her body to him.

“[name]!” He yells louder this time, desperately shaking her shoulders. He puts his hands over the black mark on her chest and continuously presses down on it in a failed attempt to start back [names] still heart. Ahsoka can’t look anymore. She can’t watch her master hopelessly revive a dead woman.

Ahsoka stands and runs away when Anakin calls out her name again, tears now falling from his eyes as he stares at his lover's dead body.

He had to hand her body off to the authorities when they arrived. He had to explain what happened all while pretending he didn’t just lose his wife.

The hardest challenge of his life wasn’t fighting Count Dooku or leading the largest battalion in the Republic Military- it was returning to the Jedi Temple with nothing to show for his lover's existence but her blood on his robes and her lightsaber.

[name] was supposed to come to his quarters tonight after the meeting. They hadn’t seen each other in two weeks, each being assigned to different planets, but each immediately returned to the other, as always. His fears of her usually vanish once he is reunited with her after their respective missions. He always assumes she’s safe when she comes home. He’d never thought of the possibility of her dying on his watch.

He wished he could have been with her body longer, but as soon as he saw the flash of red and blue lights he had to wipe his tears and place her body on the stretcher and watch as the medics pulled the sheet over her. Once the door to his quarters hissed shut he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

He sat at the edge of the bed, and unclipped [names] lightsaber from his belt. He ran his flesh hand along the customized hilt and ignited the saber of his lover. He could almost picture her beautiful face behind the [color] glow, a smirk on her lips before she jumped into battle. His eyes filled with tears as he un-ignited it and the color vanished.

It felt like when his mother died all over again. Again, he failed to protect someone. Again, someone he loved died in his arms. The only difference was there was no one he could get revenge on for the needless death. The assassin had retreated like a coward after firing the blaster. Anakin’s not even sure if the assassin killed her instantly. Perhaps it had been the fall that took her life.

Anakin’s heart ached when sleeping alone that night. He had been looking forward to feeling the warmth of [name] beside him since he had first been sent to Krios. Now he’ll never feel [name] again. If he had just got to the assassin in time she’d still be here!

Anakin’s eyes burned with tears of fury. He had no idea who the shooter was but he would hunt the bastard down after [name]’s funeral. To hell with the Jedi Code- revenge was the only way Anakin could bring himself and Eria peace!

Anakin felt himself slipping, but he had no motivation to crawl back toward the light when [name] wasn’t there waiting for him.

Eria thought she had severed her connection to Anakin, but when she finally woke up she felt the overwhelming grief and anger of her husband. It was so strong for a moment she confused it as her own. Those emotions were quickly replaced by the ache in her chest and the pain of her defiantly broken arm.

Her tears were gulped down as the medical droid healed her wounds. The droid asked if she was experiencing emotional pain, and she had to lie and say it was just her arm. All she could think about was when she fell. She heard Anakin’s scream and felt his tears on her as she played dead in his arms. It took every part of her being to not open her eyes and apologize for what she had done.

The door to my medical room hissed open, and I glanced over to see Master Windu and Master Yoda in the white light.

“I hope my funeral went well,” I mutter as the door slides shut behind them.

I see Master Windu’s eyes narrow at me as I quickly cover my emotions and dry my tears. I had been specially chosen for this classified mission out of everyone else in the Jedi Order, and I wanted to act professionally with the Council member who picked me. Especially because Master Windu was known for his intense belief in the Code.

“A great performance, your corpse played,” Master Yoda says.

I well as funeral can go, I want to add, but am silence by the medical droid sticking a numbing substance into my arm. I looked at the deep bruise on my twisted arm and for a moment wondered if this would even work. I was sacrificing so much just to learn information that may not even be true. Will Anakin even forgive me once this is all over?

“Will go well, the plan will,” Yoda says, sensing my doubt.

“I fell from the top of a building- It better go well,” I huff in pain and remove the blasterproof vest that saved my life.

“Survived worse, you have,” Yoda comforts, and though I know the Jedi Elder is right, it doesn’t help much when my back has turned into one massive bruise.

“Young Skywalker knows this,” Windu says in a firm voice, arms crossed and eyes looking down at me. As if testing to see my reaction.

I breathed deeply and held strong. I wanted to beg for them to let him assist me in the mission or ask how he handled the funeral, but most of all, I wanted to beg to just see him. But it was vital to the integrity of the mission that no one knows- Especially Anakin, who would flare up in anger if he knew I would be walking into the role of a bounty hunter and disguising myself among them, armed with nothing but a blaster.

I know that Master Windu is testing me with his words. Though he picked me for this, I was quickly made aware of his doubts in me when he had to clarify Anakin to me in private not even Anakin may know.

“I took the vital suppressors, you instructed of me, Master. When Anakin moved my body… I was dead to him. It’s impossible that he knows I’m alive,” I assure both of them, though it was clear in my tone it weighed heavily on me to do so.

Yoda hummed in agreement, “Yes- but sense he will, that something is not right.”

I wanted to add that Anakin will have no contact with me as I understand how important it is he is left out of this, but a Jedi Healer enters the room and bows his head, interrupting the conversation. The healer comes to my side to mend my broken arm, and I nod to the Jedi Masters.

“Anakin’s reaction sold the sniper of my death. What has been done is done, and I will carry out the mission as has been asked of me,” I say to Windu with no hesitation and my head held high. He seems surprised for a moment but turns to leave.

“What’s done is done,” he repeats as the healer snaps my arm back into place.

The healer seems to also understand this meeting should remain in confidence. He bows, then leaves soon after I am healed. Finally alone, I begrudgingly accepted it was time to put on the masked disguise of the assassin I will be taking the place of.

I reach down to remove my lightsaber from my belt but feel nothing of the familiar grip I built myself. I look down to see its holster empty but find for the first time since my fall, I feel an absence of worry. I let a sad smile curve my lips as I realize who took it.

I know it’s safe with Anakin.

Notes: Part 2 coming soon! I'm sorry this is a little confusing if you've never watched the episode this is based on 😭

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin angst #angst #starwars #star wars #starwars fanfic #anakin fanfiction #im sorry if this is bad #unnecessary angst #anakin is sad #xreader #anakin imagine #anakin #starwars prequels #star wars clone wars #the clone wars #idk how to tag

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pursuitseternal · 1 year ago

Text

“Cleansing:” bathing smut and surprises in “Our Blood is Thicker”

Astarion x Named Tav (F!OC) | E | 4.6K of the calm before the storm

Summary: Securing rooms at the Elfsong was the easy part. The harder part, overcoming the wash of memories from their separation before. They both need a good cleansing, one where they will indulge each other.

CW: angst, banter, bathing handjobs, I was told to “let them fuck like rabbits” which is implied, one more memory flashback, and danger.

Previous ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

Chapter 16: Cleansing…

💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞

“Does it… have to be here?” Cordehlia turned her cute little nose up at the smell in the tavern. To the rest of her party, it just seemed like she didn’t enjoy a stay at a public inn.

To Astarion, now he knew, it was sheer loathing, disgust, and almost a century of pain this place forced her to confront.

The Elfsong.

“Gale said the keeper is giving us the rooms for free, since we…” Shadowheart whispered behind her hand, all sneaky, “know about the murder upstairs…”

“It seems cheap here,” she shrugged beneath her armor. “Seedy, disreputable.”

“Sounds like you’re describing your intended, Cordehlia,” Gale taunted with that friendly smile. Even though it didn’t meet his eyes. Still that lingering jealousy and doubt she knew.

“Please,” Astarion laughed off the slight even as he put his arm around his love’s shoulders. “I was the son of a High Lord once, Gale,” he grimaced at the name on his tongue. “Cordehlia’s right, however, a place for disreputable debauchery and plotting, the Elfsong,” he laughed with a wave of his elegant hand. “We will all fit right in, I’m sure. Besides, we can't beat the price, and I won’t be sleeping on the streets.”

“Well,” Gale grinned again, perhaps a bit forced, “Can’t argue with that. Keeper said up the stairs.”

The party moved ahead, barely noticing that Cordehlia lingered back, rigid in Astarion’s arm. “Why here…” she huffed. “Won’t the keeper recognize his regular?” she hissed with spite.

“Darling, I haven’t hunted here for decades. It’s not even the same innkeeper.” He placed a kiss on her temple, feeling how her jaw clenched. “Maybe it’s time we make some pleasant memories here… together,” he purred right into her pointed ear, tracing up its delicate point with a feathery touch of a single digit.

She giggled at the tickling touch. “Fine,” she huffed. “But don’t expect me to spread my legs so easily. You’ll need to work for it if we stay here, my love. You have many years to make up for, you know.”

“Oh I know,” he smirked, one hand sliding to pull her in for a kiss by gripping the curve of her ass. “I am well aware of that fact, and that you will never let me forget it, my darling.”

He followed her up the tavern stairs, letting her slip from his arm’s hold. Lungs burned as he held his breath, worried and plagued with his old memories of his place. He tried to force them back down in the dank dungeon where he kept all those feelings from his centuries of torment. From all the targets, victims, hazy moments of disgust he had endured. He could swear it made his undead heart rap with dread. Calmly, slowly he stilled his breath, even as it grew more rapid and ragged as he climbed those same fucking stairs as he had a thousand times before.

This time was different, instead of trailing after some miserable wretch, some target, all he could see was the sway of Cordehlia’s hips and the way her ratted, unkempt, fiery red hair matched that rhythm down her back.

That made the panic subside.

As long as he had her, he would survive this.

The hall opened to a massive suite, a grand chamber filled with a dozen beds and every amenity. It was off limits to the likes of him before; he had only ever been here once, fortunately not on Cazador’s business. That night was fuzzy in his mind, a jumble of fear and exhilaration he recalled, slipping in the shadows with his contraband before being compelled back to the palace. A few moments to himself to steal a moment of respite…

Shaking his mess of curls, he followed Cordehlia towards a corner bed, one tucked away at least a bit, a few slatted screens here and there for privacy.

He smirked as she set her pack down, her toned shoulders rolling themselves out finally relieved of its weight. So graceful and lithe, she made quick work of her armor, dropping back a step at last to see him waiting at the foot of the bed.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she gestured to the massive collection of rooms.

But he only slipped his bag from his shoulder, dropping it on the mattress beside her from a great height.

Letting it fall, his claim to her space.

“Oh, my love,” she tugged its great weight over the covers with effort, “this one is mine…”

“But darling,” he grinned, snatching the bag from her hold and letting it rest at their feet, “what’s yours is also… mine.” Growling that last word, he swept her in his arms, pushing her back into the feathered bed. She yelped and giggled as she fell to his attack, his thin elven armor flexible enough for him to cover every inch of her unbound body. He kissed her, there in front of them all, pushing her legs apart even covered in the light metal that clung to his frame. Her hands dug at the bare skin at his nape, lips dancing with his, all in time with the buck of her hips.

“Insatiable minx,” he rasped between her pumping lips. “Why do you pretend?”

“I’m not, my love,” she chuckled, “you can have the neighboring bed…”

He hissed at that, caging her into the bed all the harder. Mouth trailing quickly to her neck, he sucked on the supple flesh, the skin already scarred from his fangs, bringing her blood to pump there all the faster before he…

“Ah,” she moaned, her skin giving way to teeth, sending her right to the edge of her climax in an instant. He sucked loudly, lapping and popping his lips from her flesh just to draw attention.

“For fucks sake, get a room!” Karlach guffawed from across the space.

“We have one,” Astarion laughed, sarcastic and dark as he raised his blood-drenched face to speak. “You just happen to be in it.”

“In all reality…” Cordehlia pushed her palm against his turned cheek, shoving him up with all her might. “You stink, my love.” She laughed, managing to lift him only slightly from her frame. “You need a good cleansing bath.”

“Tch,” he huffed and frowned in indignation. “I would never say such a thing, even if it were true.”

She scowled, “How loving of you…” Teasing, with just that hint of sarcasm behind it, she doubled her effort, a smile on those rosy lips of hers before she braced against his neck and lifted.

Crimson eyes wide, Astarion smiled wickedly in return. Obeying. Relenting as he raised himself from her body, his own muscles ached to return, taught with the need to do what they always had done in this tavern, longing to fuck her until she was incoherent, this time for pleasure and not from coercion.

But instead he huffed, sliding the plates of his armor off, watching her bare feet tread across the wood floorboards. He could smell her, as he said. But it was more than pleasant. That scent of her sweat, the way her arousal’s musk instantly filled his nose the moment he bit into her neck…

But first, he gathered himself, glancing around to ensure a moment of privacy before he adjusted his growing erection at her scent still in his nose. “Fucking hells,” he groaned as he dug out of his pack to get his cleanest clothes, all the way at the bottom of his bag. Finally, he fought with all the trinkets and loot in his sack to pull out a fresh set of trousers, when something heavy landed on the floor with a thud. One delicate hand reached to gather it up next to his feet, the green, leather bound tome right in her pale palm.

Cordehlia narrowed her eyes at the title embossed on the side in gold. “The Curse of the Vampyre?” she scanned the book and then locked those silver eyes with his, questioning, mischievous and suspicious. “Some light reading while I bathe?”

“Just a little research, darling,” he slipped it from her grasp to tuck it in with his clothing.

“How to kill Cazador?” she speculated, turning to head towards the now-steaming tub in the side of the room. That look she threw him from over her shoulder sent an instant shudder of warm desire to his groin.

“I think I’ll follow my instincts on that one, my love,” he chuckled, dark and tickled with the promise of violence. “No, no,” he hummed as they stopped at the side of the tub, watching as she closed the slat-screen separator, just a bit of privacy despite the wash of voices that floated around the suite. “I’m just… preparing for what it might be, between the two of us.”

Cordehlia slipped from her trousers, that hem of her undershirt barely covering that sweet apex of her thighs. Astarion swallowed the huffing moan he could have made. “Hmm,” she tossed him a smirk before turning her back on him. That little cream shift tugged up over her head as she let her voice lilt and flirt, “and what might that be for us? An eternity in love as Mistress Cordhelia Ancunín?”

“Close, my darling,” he set his clothing in a jumbled mess at his feet. The clean ones, too. And Cordehlia rolled her eyes as she watched him. Arms crossed over her bare breasts, she gave him a rueful yet desirous smile. He made no extra show, tugging his ruffled shirt off from over his one head, juggling the book between his grip. “You see, there’s a difference for a Vampire Lord in the creation of their servants or equals, whoever they should choose to make their own… to make them powerful like them…”

“Whatever fits their fickle, half-formed plans?” she taunted, stepping herself into the water, dunking her long, gnarled hair into the water.

Suddenly, tenderly, two hands fished her long hair from the water. Cordehlia turned slightly, his smirking face grinning with total mischief as he used those skilled hands of his to work the snarls from the end of her hair. A little rose scented oil on the tips of his fingers, and he worked them each out. No noise but the rasp of his breath down the back of her neck as he leaned over the tub. Warm water barely heated his touch, the pads of his touch brushed her cheek. Her head leaned into his palm, but a gasp from her lips slipped out as she felt his other hand close around her breast. His teeth scored over the sensitive shell of her ear, a whispering laugh tickling the inside. “Who’s to say I would be fickle… or have half-formed plans, if I were a Lord?”

A fang dragged over the soft curve of her earlobe, making her sigh, half-swallowed as her back arched at the sensation. “So… if you turn… if you can ascend, that’ll make you…?” she whispered, voice thick in that milk white throat of hers as she turned, water splashing in that tub as she swiveled.

“Lord Astarion….” He sighed, an intense and dreamy look in the dark red of his eyes. “Vampire Ascendant.”

“Is that what’s in your book, my dear? Is that what you’ve been researching?”

“No,” he rasped, standing as he slowly brought his hands to the waistband of his leathers. Pale fingers slipped the small buttons barely holding it closed free one at a time. “If you can’t tell… it’s you and your wellbeing that’s on my mind, darling…” Hands tugging that flap apart, his cock sprang free, and he couldn’t help but give a low, rumbling chuckle as she bit her lip at its sight.

Cordehlia slid over a smidge, her own lithe fingers massaging through her damp hair. Silver eyes were locked on his every move, the way he slipped from those leather pants, the way he slowly sank into the waters beside her.

The way his own right fang peeked out as he chewed his lip and wrapped his arms around her body at last. “I’ve never met one before, never even heard aside from rumors of their existence among my kind. They are rarely created, the perfect match for a Vampire Lord, the perfect threat to them too. But they say there is no greater love than a trusting Lord and his loving… Bride.”

She shivered in his arms, shaking her whole body despite the swirling steam that surrounded them.

“That’s what you want… isn’t it?” he purred right into the folds of her ear again, a single hand stealing underwater to run down her belly. “To be mine… forever?”

Her mouth opened, he could hear it, feel it in her jaw, but no noise came out but breath. Not until he slunk two fingers between her thighs, finding the even warmer, wetter slick that gathered there.

Her legs bent under the water, feet braced on the side of the cloth and wood of the tub. But he slowed his hand, dragging a single fingertip, a single nail even, over that hard little clit of hers. “You have to tell me, darling, if you will be mine… no matter what…”

Her hand reached behind her, clawing into the mess of his own damp curls and slotting her body between his own clenching legs. “You know my answer. It’s the same. It’s unchanging. Constantly beating yes when it comes to you, Astarion, for two-hundred years.”

“I’m so pleased to hear it,” he hissed, gratifying the little bucks of her hips by sinking his long fingers deep inside her channel. “Best keep it quiet though, I would hate to offend the rest of our group’s sensibilities…”

“You would love to give them offense,” Cordehlia snarled back, pulling him by his hair to whisper back in his own ear. Giving him just what he gave her. “You would love to make me give little whimpers, make me moan your name just loud enough to have one of them chastise you, hmm?”

“For what?” he growled back, starting to pick up his pace as he stroked her and crooked his touch inside her. “For being the consummate lover I am? For making you, the great warrior, whine for me, my little pet and darling?”

A hand reached behind her, her fist closing firmly around his cock, making a noise not unlike a moan come from his own throat through his gritted teeth.

“So are you going to share your research…” she pumped him, hard in grip and slow in measure, as she rode his fingers. A smile on her face. “Going to tell me more about what you think might happen?”

“Three bites,” he panted, those fingers of his working inside her, determined to make her squeal and come first. “And then… I drink you almost dry…” His voice in her ear is feral, more monster than man, and Cordehlia shivered, rapture taking hold at his touch and words and… all of him.

“Go on…” she murmured, voice thick in her throat, even as he hand gripped tighter and sloshed more water as she tried to keep up with his own fingers fucking inside her.

“I give you my blood, letting it fill you and make you mine. They say it will be far more pleasurable than anything you have ever… ever… experienced.” He panted, her thumb sweeping right over that spot only she knew, beneath the dip of his head. His thighs clenched, his balls tightened. “Gods,” he groaned, too close now to back down.

“And then I would be your Bride?” she replied, trying so hard to sound perfect and calm, hiding her own approaching pleasure with a pressed and quiet tone.

He held his breath, scoring a nail over that patch inside her, the one he knew always pushed her, careening towards her climax. “Yes,” he finally ground the single word out, definitely louder than he had hoped. “You’ll be your own being, your own set of powers linked to mine. We will walk in the sun, share our minds, share every bit of pleasure and … pain.” He whimpered loudly, too loudly, as she tugged and fondled him mercilessly.

A knock sounded on the divider, Shadowheart’s lyric voice only a bit muffled from the other side. “Can you hurry it up? The longer you take, the longer the rest of us poor peasants need to wait until it’s our turn…. And we obviously need to get fresh water now…”

“Shut up,” he growled, that hand on his cock not slowing a second even as their moment was invaded.

“Shh, play nice,” Cordehlia corrected him, hand leaving his shaft for a moment to clutch those smooth, hard balls in her palm, tight and ready to burst any second now. “Two people in one tub deserve twice as long, logically. Give us five more minutes.” She called so politely.

Their cleric huffed and stamped away, but not before her fingers stroked that flushed, fleshy head in their touch. Once, twice more, she pulsed that grip and stars covered his vision. Coils of heat burst inside him, spurts of cum sullying the water, and best of all, her own cunt flared and clenched in time. Her freehand flew to her mouth, covering it tightly to not make a sound. But he had her, the extra oily slick of her arousal shot around his fingers, her thighs shaking in the water as she bucked out her climax on his touch. And just when she neared the supple pleasure after, fangs sliced into her.

Her shoulder was pierced once, twice, three times. Nips in rapid succession until the final one. That, Astarion let his teeth sink fully into the crook of her shoulder, savoring the sweet, almost floral bouquet of her blood on his tongue. Filling his belly.

Her head rested back against his chest, body limp and warm. A comforting weight against where his heart would have beat, a sad smile on his lips as he released from her neck. Tenderly, he didn’t want to disturb her, he nuzzled into her damp red hair. As he breathed in, that rose-scented oil barely masked her own floral scent.

He didn’t want to disturb her, but maybe she needed to know….

“There’s a bit more to the Dark Kiss… umm the way that a Bride is made…” He trailed off as she turned. Her face was lined with confusion as she wrapped her legs around him in the water, looking hopeful, worried, waiting on his every word.

Astarion sighed. “It’s a bit dangerous,” he continued at last. “Once you wake to feed for the first time, you… you won’t be yourself. You will be feral, ravenous,” he paused, realizing the weight of his words, “dangerous. I’ll have to subdue you to make sure we both remain safe…”

“Alive you mean,” Cordehlia nodded, sage and slow as his meaning took hold. She looked over his shoulder, eyes distant as she thought for a moment. “More than anything, Astarion, I trust you.”

He closed his eyes and pressed his lips tighter, hiding the way tears stung behind his eyelids and the way his jaw wanted to tremble.

“Besides,” she shifted closer to him, running a hand down the ridges of his belly to grip him by the balls again. “You will love the chance to subdue me for once, even if it’s in unfair circumstances.”

Astarion swallowed the grunt at the delicious pressure she put on him, turning it to a laugh. “You're no different you know, not letting me bend the rules so I can win, just like when we were children.”

“Never,” she shook her head, coy smile and flirtatious glints in her eyes. “I’ll never let you off free, not even if you are some exalted Lord.” Those lithe fingers clutched one more time harder around his manhood. “And you wouldn’t have it any other way, my love.”

“Whatever makes you happy, my darling,” he purred, still hiding that lump in his throat. That niggling guilt over what he had done before, now that he knew. Now that he remembered. “I’ll try to be worthy of all that trust you have in me.”

She leaned against his chest, arms wrapping around his neck to bring him closer. A tender smile turning one corner of her lips, she kissed him. “I know you will.”

There was so much to be done… but for this evening, for tonight, they all rested in comfort for once. Every other member in their group gave them a massively wide berth, treating them like newlyweds, letting them hide behind the dividers around their bed, ignoring the little noises that came from behind it. Only once a meal was brought out did Cordehlia leave their little hideaway, just long enough to avoid everyone’s knowing smirks and make a simple plate of cheeses and breads.

Then her bare feet hurried back, for a moment of silence before the subtle and constant rustling resumed from behind those partitions.

A few hours later, silence finally fell. Night in the city was still so loud, too loud. And Cordehlia just couldn’t trance no matter how hard she tried. Even as Astarion fell into easy rest beside her, one arm braced behind her head and the other resting on his belly as it rose and fell. He was comfortable here, his home away from her for almost two centuries. That old pang of bitterness flared in her chest, and she sat aright. All she could hear was soft breathing in the night.

She looked out the window, dawn just starting to break with light. Climbing from the bed, she slipped into her clothing, that fresh cream undershirt, sensible black leathers. She would be quick, that pain from her past pushing her to return one more time to that place where agony had taken root.

One more glance to his beautiful, pale, naked body resting in their bed, she kissed her fingers and pressed it featherlight to his forehead. She’d be right back. One last visit to his grave to close the pain of the past.

Boots on her feet, she reached for her dagger. Just the one, her most favorite, if only to make her feel completely dressed; it would just be a jaunt around the corner to the graveyard, a couple of turns in the safety of the sun before she would return. And after all the ways he’d had her last night, she was sure he’d trance his way through that time.

She stepped silently through the dim room, paying no heed to anything other than that door, than her mission to bid the past farewell for good.

Astarion turned in his trance, his sleep restless and uneasy, the memories of being in the Elfsong mostly inflicting those little cuts and wounds of torture from his past as Cazador’s spawn. Except that one time he had been in this suite of rooms….

His dream swept him back to that time, the way his feet hurried away from the other spawn sent there with him to hunt. That little piece of paper in his hand secreted beneath his arm as he hurried silently up the stairs, picking the lock quickly into this empty set of rooms. It hadn’t been hard to find a dark corner, a loose floorboard…

He didn’t know why it was so important to him, but he had known he wanted to keep it. Even if he couldn’t bring it back to the palace, even if he knew that stealing away from his siblings and coming home empty handed tonight meant a spell in the kennels and a session with Godey. His chest rose and fell with the thrill of insolence. That parchment, that news flier unfolding in his hands made him smile.

Eyes scanned the words too quickly to really take in the story, some account of a battle… some fearsome tale of this warrior goddess… All he could do was stare at the printed likeness of her face on the paper. Black and white, just ink and fading parchment, but he had wanted it. And when Petras had tried to tug it from his fingers, he had snarled and disappeared into the crowd. Now he could savor his treasure, enjoy his stolen goods.

She was alluring, that long hair drawn to tease behind her, that sculpted body covered in dark armor, her face hard and fearsome and yet… something about her lips taunted him. Coy and teasing, beckoning him to look closer.

And closer he did look. His mind had raced over the words, no memory of them now almost a century later… but he remembered clearly what he did with that image in those few stolen moments. How his cock had hardened instantly, how it had been only a few moments of rough and dry handfucking for him to come.

How he had wiped himself clean quickly, breathless from actual pleasure for once in his long, broken memory, before he stashed that flier with the pretty She-elf on it under the floorboard.

Astarion bolted awake at last. Hardly noticing he was alone, he scampered from the bed, tripping as he slipped on his trousers too quickly and scuttled across the suite to the opposite corner.

“What in the hells are you doing, Fangs?” Karlach huffed a laugh, amused and annoyed as she had to hurry out of his way.

He said nothing, fingers pulling the wood up to free that long lost, buried treasure. Flinging himself against the wall, he shook his head. If he didn’t have company, he would have, could have cried.

Victory of the Bone Picker.

Clear as the day that dawned outside the window, he finally took the time to look at the words. To look into the printed eyes of his love.

He knew, somehow all those decades ago, he knew.

“Damn, Fangs, is that Cordehlia?” Karlach peered from the other end. “You knew that was here… you saved it here after all this time, didn’t you?”

“I guess so,” was his honest reply. Those crimson eyes looked up wide and shining wet. “Where is she?”

Karlach shook her head, taken aback. “Isn’t she sleeping her climax marathon off in your bed?”

“No,” he suddenly went rigid. Standing, flying to his feet to peer around the rooms. “Has anyone see Cordehlia?” he couldn’t hide the desperation in his voice now.

Gale looked up from his book at that. “She went for a stroll early this morning, first light. I don’t think she saw me here… not that she pays me much mind at any rate…”

“Shh, shh,” Astarion hushed him right up once he sounded as if he would start another one of his diatribes. “Not now, Gale,” he snipped. “That must have been an hour ago already, so where is she?”

“You could always use our little friends,” Gale suggested, two fingers tapping on the side of his head.

“You mean reach out?” the Vampire frowned.

“Wouldn’t hurt,” the Wizard gave a terse reply. For once.

Astarion closed his eyes, feeling the waves of the tadpole’s power emanating from his mind, searching for the other end.

Something faint returned. A flash of a cemetery, a headstone with his name on it, and a pair of glowing red eyes and stringy black hair staring down at her before… darkness.

Silence.

Nothingness.

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

Our Blood will update again in 3 days, so your arms don’t get too tired hanging from that cliff 💞💞

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