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elizzsush · 5 months ago

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Future Child | Twisted Wonderland

Malleus Draconia X Reader

----It wasn’t everyday you’d find a three year old running around campus causing a ruckus. Usually students wouldn’t have to deal with this, but with Crowley you had to deal with everything. Now… why is it when you catch this small trouble maker it calls you “momma”?

AUs: None Rating: SFW

Note: Hi, hi! So, basically, I wasn't going to finish this and posted it as a WIP and people really liked it. So, then I had no other choice but to finish it! And I hope you like it.

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Crowley in-listed you to help with the child problem around school. No, wait that sounded bad. A young fae no older than five got into night raven campus and has been running amok. Some students say he appeared out of thin air. So, obviously, you: the defenseless, Magic-less human with no knowledge of fae or even how some of these basics of this world work, you were the schools best bet against this ‘threat.’ And so, your oh so kind instructor pushed this task onto you and left.

Not without you demanding an extra allowance, but still.

Thankfully, you were well equipped with a grumpy cat-weasel thing who is so glad to help and definitely did not try and run away. “Ehh? Why do I have to help ya??” Grim whined as he hung limply, your hand firmly grasping his scruff as you held him up. He was so generous and did not need to be bribed at all.

You sighed, “I’ll put some money aside from this to get you tuna.” Technically, that was a lie. No, you were going to fix the window Grim broke from practicing his magic in the house, again.

“I want two cans!” The motivated cat purred and jumped onto your shoulders. Now, you can finally begin your mission and take on this… threat...?

This threat was a real threat!

The sight of the frozen cafeteria did scare you. You had learnt that after you had stumbled upon the frozen dinning hall; all of this was from the baby fae! What on Earth were you suppose to even do once you caught the child?

How would you catch this kid without being frozen exactly? Why were you put on this task?

There was a mountain of ice and a many frozen students who were actively being saved by other students most of whom were made to help. They had gotten lucky in your option. They didn’t have to find the kid. “So much magic…" An awestruck student said, "it’s hard to believe a kid did this.” The nameless person mumbled as they helped thaw the room out. You couldn’t help but hum in agreement to yourself.

What kid could do this when Deuce struggled with making anything but cauldrons while he was somewhere new! It was… overwhelming magic for sure. Even for you to stand in the middle of it, magicless. And this was just the dining hall!

Apparently, you had three more places to check out.

“Not much to see here.” Grim grumbled from your shoulder, just then a ball of fire came hurtling towards the two of you! “Eek!!” Grim squealed jumping of your shoulder while you ducked.

“Sorry!” A no name student called out… He had been using the fire to dethaw some students.

“We should leave… and fast.” You said as you turned to leave in a hurry. You tripped on the ice almost tripped on the ice while you left.

The very next place you checked was the courtyard, where Mr. Vargas liked to make you run in the blistering heat. PE was horrible. Everyone else got to be on their dumb magic brooms while you were stuck doing laps.

Mr. Vargas did like to make the boys sweat afterwards though. You got to sit on the grass and laugh at them cheer them on! Especially Ace, who always lagged behind.

Anyway, in the place of the field of green grass that your peers used to practice flying on a broom, was a field of fire. Green fire no less. At least it was still green? You stayed a distance away while you watched a group of five students try and summon water magic to help fight these flames. “If you don’t do this right, it’ll be off with your heads!” Next to them, a familiar short, red-haired boy was shouting at them and telling them what they were doing wrong.

You liked to think it wouldn't actually be off with their heads, Riddle was above that... Now. You liked to think it was just motivation to make them work harder!

Because it was mostly Heartslabyul students, it worked. "Hey! Riddle?" You called out to the boy. The Housewarden looked at you and jogged up to meet you a way away from the green flames. Was Sebek here as well? You swore you heard his voice shouting...

"You shouldn't be here. This area is off-limits to anyone outside of the Equestrian club because of the danger." Riddle crossed his arms; his tone was pretty gentle though. You nodded along to what he was saying, because it made sense.

"Crowley wants us to find the Fae doing this, do you know anything about it?" You decided to get right to the point. Riddle was busy enough as it was. He seemed to appreciate it too.

The boy glanced back at the students trying to figure out how to calm the fire and shook his head. "I think I heard a few third years mention a blur of H/C going into the school." He mentioned, you mostly knew the kid was in the school. It was one of the places Crowley wanted you to check out, Mr. Trein's class, after that you didn't really know where the kid could be.

You smiled and thanked Riddle before turning to leave, the boy glanced back at the fire before stepping a bit closer to you, a slightly embarrassed look on his face. "Uh- Y/N, I was wondering if you wanted to have tea with me later I-"

"Dorm leader! it's spreading!" A student shouted out, a panicked look on their face as they rushed up to the two of you. Riddle muttered something under his breath, before jogging back to the fire. To step up to calm the flames even more than what the regular student could do so you left.

“This seemed handled enough…” You muttered, a bit disappointed that you didn't get to finish your conversation with Riddle, Grim simply rolled his eyes and you two turned to leave.

You went to Mr. Trein’s classroom next. Your most boring class of twisted wonderland, history, uh... you think. Truthfully you hadn’t stayed awake long enough to know what class he taught.

It was not for lack of trying either!

He just drew out his words and spoke in just a boring robotic tone, it could put anyone to sleep! I digress. The cat: Lucius liked you too, he tended to let you sleep more while waking up other students.

Anyway, in place of the classroom was… an overgrown forest? In the center of it, you noticed a tall, well groomed, teal haired male, squatting down to examine what appeared to be a mushroom….

Obviously. it was Jade. He was part of the Mountain Lovers Club. The sole member actually if you remember right. Crowley mentioned something about the clubs handling the situations. So...

This seemed… handled-ish….

You would be taking your leave now. You closed the door silently and Grim groaned. "This is so boring." He whined, "Why do we have to do this?!" You shrugged slightly.

"Crowley said he'll give an extra allowance this week if we do this." You mumbled, "We could really use it to fix that window you broke." You reminded the cat. He huffed and glared at you a bit childishly, crossing his furry arms silently on your shoulder.

"I thought you said I could have extra tuna?" He realized, jumping off your shoulder he pointed at you in an accusatory manner; you sighed a bit.

You didn’t have time to find him right now. "We can talk about this later." You walked past him but when he didn't follow you, you turned around.

Where did Grim go...? You looked around the halls for him, "Grim?!" Didn’t he know not to wonder off while there was a threat on campus!

This fae would eat him alive!

Feeling even more motivated and slightly panicked, you ran off to find the cat and disregard the threat that was getting killed by meeting this Fae kid unarmed. Uncated? Either way.

“Someone help me!” You finally heard Grims's voice after looking for him for... quite a while actually. Pushing the door to the classroom open, you found...

Nothing.

Every potion was on its self, the stirring sticks where the usually go, nothing burned, frozen, or overgrown nothing was… well anywhere. At least anywhere out of place. “Someone, help me!” A cried out a very familiar voice squeaked out. Hesitantly, you walked closer to where you heard Grim’s voice.

This felt like something out of a horror movie.

A cauldron, inside of it was the soft glow of blue flames. No doubt caused by Grins fire ears. “Grim…?” You spoke softly. Peeking inside the steel pot, you saw a young boy, a long tail curled up beside him and one horn on the side of his head. In his arms was Grim, held tightly like he was a stuffed animal. He sniffled and then looked up at you with the most striking green eyes you’ve ever seen…

“Y/n!” Grim cried out, relief flooding his voice and breaking you from the little boy's curse of cuteness.

You plucked Grim from the kid's arms and He crawled onto your shoulders.

“Momma!” The boy, still in the cauldron yelled out, stumbling to get up and jump into your arms, get hindered by the caldron he found himself stuck in. His face was red from tears, and he looked scared… his small hands shaking with fear. He sniffled more, his chubby hands rubbing away his tears as they fell. Your heart ached slightly seeing those tears.

This can't be the same boy running amok in the school's campus. He was just so... non-threatening?

So, without a second thought. You picked the small boy up and cooed at him. Grim stared at you bewildered, His experience far more intimidating them yours.

Didn't you know how tight that boy was holding him?! Poor Grim almost didn't make it. He whined and frowned at the attention you were giving the boy.

Now, you just had to take this sweetheart to Crowley.

Either way, the small boy was absolutely adorable! Sure, he may or may not have caused this week's class cancelations but really, Ace was thanking the boy for it, so all was fine! Back at ramshackle, you realized, he was just a kid.

He was using some crayons to draw. He screamed like a bit of a brat when you tried to make him eat some broccoli you got... You thought it would be good for you and grim and neither of you ate it.

His big electric green eyes that reminded you of… someone? But who was it again? Well, it didn’t matter. The boy had green eyes, H/ced hair and these two small slightly curled horns on top of his head.

His ears were pointed just like a fae’s but just slightly? They weren’t as long nor as sharp as a regular fae’s like Lilia. It was hard to explain. It was the oddest thing- he had a tail as well! A long blackish purple one at that. And he was excellent at magic, if the destroyed campus told you anything. “Are you mad at me?” He looked up at you with teary eyes after you informed Crowley you caught him.

“Why would I be mad at you?” You asked the small boy curiously, blinking at him a bit confused at the question. His large electric green puppy eyes weren’t exactly helping you stand strong and not coddle him either.

“Because I made the rooms a mess…” he rubbed his large cheeks free from stray tears. Not that he was any good at it either, you just shook your head and kneeled to the floor, wiping them away for him.

Something about this boy made you wanted to care for him and protect him- he was just do cute. “Nonsense, you were scared. A little mess is fine as long as you weren’t hurt.” When you looked at him you felt something akin to cuteness aggression. This little fae was adorable! If Crowley didn’t find his parents, you’d take him in!

Ignore how poorly you yourself lived in ramshackle! And how much of your food was canned tuna because Grim insisted on it over actual food.

And the window that you still needed to fix and were most likely going to spend this week's allowance on...

The boy nodded, cuddling into your side like a small cuddly cat.

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He was adorable but children were a handful.

Crowley, after assigning you to catch the kid, gave you the poor child to take care of. So, you had been living with the child for three whole days.

Not to say the kid- who’s name you learned was Casper- was a handful. In fact, he was a sweetheart. He tended to shy away from things a bit, and he was a bundle of nerves sometimes.

He definitely got overwhelmed when left by himself, often resorting to crying and when he cried his magic tended to...

Anyway, Despite the amount of magic he held at his fingertip, he’d rush to you at the slightest creak of the floorboards, held onto you tightly, and hide his face in your shirt.

When it was finally time to go to school you didn’t really know what to do with the kid…? We’re you suppose to just… bring a kid to class with you? I mean, you already bring a cat, and the kid would probably be more well behaved then Grim.

So you brought Casper with you. And it was fine He was very sweet, maybe a little to shy, the teachers did love him. He introduced himself to them from behind your leg.

That was two days ago, now you were in the cafeteria. You hadn't been here in two days because, well you weren't sure if Casper would be okay around the crowd of students. Some of whom were still bitter about the Ice things... and the green fire thing.

“Fufufu, what do we have here?” Lilia popped up out of absolutely nowhere. "I heard a rumor about a trouble make~" He smirked.

“Grandpa Lilia!” The kid for once didn’t shy away. You had expected him to start crying. (He had before after all, when Jade introduced himself to the boy.) Lilia simply smiled and accepted the boy's affections, nodding along as he babbled about his day. Meanwhile, you were staring bewildered at the boy.

And... That was your lunch.

With of course, Ace and Deuce coming to keep you company while Lilia entertained Casper.

Most of your lunch you'd glance at the two. 'Grandpa Lilia?' You wondered why he was unusually not shy? He was a talkative boy to you, but with a stranger, no way... “Where Papa?” He asked looking up at the older fae with his large sparkling eyes. Oh, maybe Lilia knew the boy's parents! He was an older fae himself, right?

“Yes, good question indeed where is your papa?” Lilia asked, before he looked at you, a small smirk on his face, he looked at you like you’d know! You didn’t. You had tried to correct the kid on you being his mom before two- he cried and sulked over it for a while after that. “Well, I best be Off now!” Lilia cheered and gave you the kid back before disappearing off somewhere.

That was weird right?

You day went on- Ace and Deuce were good around the kid. Casper was pretty decent around Ace and Deuce, not too shy but he wasn't rambling like he was around Lilia. "Is something on your mind?" Deuce asked curiously, a mild layer of unwarranted concern.

"It's fine..." You shrugged, "I just hope Crowley find Caspers parents soon." You sighed, and the boy in question looked at you confused. He called you Mom and you basically took care of him, so you figured he thought you were his mom.

Not that you really minded, it wasn't like he thought you were old, fae tended to not age and stay good looking forever basically. Case in point, Lilia.

You really didn't mind, you already took care of Grim, so what's another, milder tempered Grim who didn't run away? "Speaking of the kid- Where is he?" Ace asked, looking around.

Scratch that, the kid wondered off.

"Oh no." You sighed and looked at the Adeuce duo with an exhausted look they couldn't say no too. They'd help you find the kid.

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How on earth did Sebek of all people get Casper?

Sebek, a first year in your class. Some loud guy who you got partnered up with once.

Why didn't Casper run away! You most certainly would and have. Instead, you found Casper on Sebek Zigvolt of all people's shoulders. Now you and Ace were whispering about how to get the kid back. No way you were going to go up to Sebek of all people and have to listen to his "fae are superior" speech... again.

"We should... Lure Casper away with candy." You whispered, Ace gave you a look and shot down your idea.

"Do you want to give him the impression that you should follow random people with candy?" He said looking at you like you just had the worst idea ever. "I say we just grab him and run."

"No, Sebek is faster than us." You noted, "Especially you, he runs laps past you in PE." Ace bumped your shoulder with an eyeroll.

"Where's Deuce?" Ace frowned, you watched with wide eyes as you saw Deuce confidently walk up to Sebek... "oh no." Ace groaned and run up behind Deuce.

You cursed to yourself. "We don't have to follow right...?" you asked the cat who agreed with you, but you knew you kind of had to follow them.

"Hey- Sebek." You smiled awkwardly.

"Mama!" The kid called out to you and reached out towards you. he almost fell off Sebek's shoulders- thankfully you caught him. Sebek looked at you in confusion and maybe a bit judgmentally...?

"No- he isn't..." You sighed and gave up.

"A human couldn't mother a Fae of Caspers caliber!" And so... Sebek began his rant. He started with how Lilia informed him of the situation, and he was here to lift the burden of Casper from your human shoulders.

Really, it saved you the time of informing Sebek you were in fact, not a teen mom. Also, it was weirdly insulting? Like hey, come on, you’ve taken care of him for three days! Almost four, “Casper is pretty happy with me, right sweetie?” You asked the boy who nodded hesitatingly. Wait- hesitantly? “Huh?”

Sebek looked a bit disheartened the Fae kid rejected him, but he was also kind of confused as well. “It’s just… I miss Papa, Mama…” the boys lips quivered a bit.

“No, no! You're not in trouble.” You fell to your knees to comfort the boy.

Apparently Sebek was hanging out with the child because he thought he was Malleus but something went wrong. Perhaps someone used their unique magic in the future ruler of briar valley.

Um… who’s Malleus?

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Day four of having a child.

Today you were going to find this kid someone who looked close enough to his dad. I mean, you apparently looked like his mom enough, so… yeah!

Also, perhaps his brother went to this school and that was how he ended up here. Finding him a dad sounded fun though.

It was a solid plan… “Casper?” You woke the boy up. You put Casper in the guest bedroom ace usually occupied when he was collared. Which was often. Even with Riddle being looser on the rules Ace always pushed sadly. “Today we’re finding your father.” You informed the boy.

“Really!” His eyes lit up. Why didn’t you do this sooner?

“Mhm, just tell me what he looks like-“ and so began Caspers rant on how amazing his father was. How he always makes time for you two even though he’s so busy, how good he was at playing superhero’s- and so on.

You didn’t even realize superhero’s existed here. Crazy. “He has black horns like me!” He grinned up at you, “oh- and black hair and we have the same eyes!” He giggled before again going on about how awesome his dad was.

“Horns, black hair, green eyes…” you mumbled, “and you're a fae, so we should probably go to Diasomnia, they have the most fae of the dorms” you smiled brightly. “This Malleus guy seems promising- and if he doesn’t want to, I’ll just make him!” You cheered and with Casper on your shoulders you were out the door!

Was it just you or was Diasomnia slightly terrifying?

Either way, with Casper on your shoulders like you were going to the zoo, you walked on the winding path with thorns around it and into the dorm. The halls were… very long and castle-like.

Eventually you found the dorm's common room. Witch had three students, only one of which was a fae. With as much confidence you could muster, you approached them. “Hello! Good evening gentlemen… Um, do you happen to know someone whom this child looks like?” You smiled and proceeded to the kid.

They very politely actually said that they think he looks like Malleus. You asked them to point you to this Malleus, and they again very politely refused. Apparently he was a busy man which was fair. But he was a father now! If casper deems him fit enough (By that you mean mistake him for his father like the boy did you.)

Still, throughout this process, you couldn't help but wonder if you were forgetting someone.

You kept glancing at Caspers horns… who else did you know with horns? “Tsunotarou! That's who you look like!” You finally realized after an embarrassingly long time. In your defense you had only met the guy once or twice while you were dealing with Leona’s stupid plan, and didn’t Leona mention Malleus during his overblot?

“That's what you call Papa!” Casper cheered, his eyes widening in awe. Okay so, either that was a common name… which you doubt or Casper had a weird background.

“Khee Khee what do we have here?” Lilia appeared out of nowhere! …again, still you jumped!

“Mama is going to find Papa today!” Casper cheered in all his three year old glory. Picking the boy up and lifting him to sit on your hit you nodded.

“Mhm! I’m going to meet this… Malleus demands he becomes Caspers father or pay child support!” You claim confidently because in reality, you were beginning to doubt the plan you came up with at 3am and woke up early for. “Tsunotarou would be a better bet but I really don’t know where that guy is… or his real name.” you muttered to yourself.

Either way, Lilia clapped and with a large smile said this: “You're in luck! Malleus just finished his breakfast and should be heading over for his morning coffee.” So, without verbally questioning why he knew that you smiled and plopped down on the common room’s chairs watching a bit nervously as Lilia wandered off again.

So… You were really dumb. Realistically this was a horrible plan bound to fail, but you already came this far.

Didn’t all your friends always comment about how scary Malleus was? Wasn’t he like one of the top mages of this world?

Okay, maybe if you didn’t come up with this plan at 3am last night you wouldn’t be so royally screwed! Hah, get it because Malleus is supposed to be some royal of… a whole nation right? Yeah, this was a bad idea.

Getting up to leave, you heard Casper cheer for his father.

“Child Of Man?”

“Tsunotarou?” You turned around, “Actually- no this is better than getting smited by some scary mage! Okay so I have been looking for… you, for a while!” You smiled, “This is our son: casper.” You introduced them.

“Papa!”

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“Mm, He does look like me.” Tsunotarou hummed; he knelt beside the child, titling his head curiously as he observed the child. “Your horns are coming in nicely aren't they?” He commented with a small smile, the boy nodded enthusiastically.

“Mhm! They should be as big as yours soon!” Casper giggled.

“Your speech is also advanced for a child of your age.” The older boy smiled, It was a very touching sight actually.

“It is. Ace and Deuce have been helping me teach him some bigger stuff too.” you stated proudly as the younger boy nodded along. You sat beside where the boy stood in front of his new father. Your back against the armrest, you sat planted on the floor. “The headmage said he would be dealing with getting him back home but I have to take care of him till then.” You sighed.

“I see, so you thought to find me as I am the child's father?” Malleus asked curiously, an eyebrow raised almost teasingly.

“If you’ll believe it, yup.” You nodded along, I mean if he believes that the kid is his, why not get him to take responsibility for that sweet child support money?

“I see, so Crowley is making the proper arrangement to get you back to us in the future.”

“Wait, so he's actually my kid?” you couldn’t help but blurt out. Tsunotarou merely chuckles. “Am I dumb or are we actually like his parents?” You whispered a bit to Tsunotarou and stood up, he followed after you standing up as well.

“Mm? Crowely didn’t inform you?” he said with an amused and sly smile. “I suppose it's time anyway we get properly introduced seeing as you are my future spouse” He smirked, his hand on his hips.

“I am Malleus draconia”

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Fun Fact:

The events of this takes place after Heartslabyul’s and Savanaclaw overblot. So y/n doesn’t know Tsunotarou is Malleus.

Also, Lilia knew all along.

Also, also, I'm sorry this sucked lol

NOTE: Sorry this slightly sucked I didn't really plan to actually finish the WIP I posted it as "Forever unfinished" and people liked it so I thought I'd do this anyway!

________________________ ________________________

Some of Ya'll wanted to be Tagged: @yu-night-raven @kelsyntam @reivelmin @thisisafish123 @cheshire-kitsune @dmiqueles @ranbutler-epicsans-moon @dontmindmelove @swivi @halseyhatter @barbatoss-bitch @itslucieen @bell7duck @whatever-fanfics @ziankenvirus @blcknebula @leilakaro @sarraisme

(I'm not quite sure if I did it right but thank you for liking the WIP enough to comment and want to see another! I hope it was good, I kind of think It wasn't that good but Thats why I made it somewhat long... To compensate!)

2K notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 2 months ago

Note

for thawing out, i see how you've already characterized the reader as kind of the calm, even keeled one of the group and i would LOVE to just see her stand up for herself and absolutely blow up after getting pushed too far by the boys (a little mean of me to want her to go through that but-) but yes i love me a good out of character moment that kind of make the characters be like "oh shit maybe we shouldn't be acting this way-" love you babe 🫶

Hi lovely, idk if this is exactly what you had in mind but thanks sm for requesting! Love you <3

collab with @ellecdc

cw: modern au, chronic pain, implied past abuse, hurt no comfort (for some)

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 2.9k words

When Remus arrives at your apartment the next morning, Sirius is already standing at the front door. His arms are crossed over his chest as he glowers in Remus’ direction, but it’s difficult to find him very intimidating when his nose is pink from the cold.

“Oh,” he says, feeling awkward. “Hello.”

“Hi,” Sirius replies drily. “What are you doing here?”

Remus shrugs. Fine. If Sirius wants to be a prick (and what else is new), he can do that too. “I didn’t think you’d come. Have you knocked already?”

“Of course I knocked,” he all but sneers. “Why would you assume I wasn’t going to be here? I said I would be.”

“I honestly didn’t expect you’d be able to drag yourself out of bed.”

Sirius looks ready to make a retort, but your door opens. You look surprised to see both boys on your doorstep, your smile tentative. Remus still doesn’t understand how you can do that at such an early hour.

“Hi,” you say. Then you turn to Sirius, grin widening as you pinch the frozen tip of his nose fondly. “You made it.”

“Obviously I made it!” The other boy’s voice takes on a wounded tone, and Remus has to tuck a smile into his scarf. Sirius must suspect, because his gaze narrows.

“How did you get this address?” he asks Remus.

Remus feels his brow crinkle. It’s not as if he’s the one you’re in danger of.

“He texted me last night, and I gave it to him,” you answer for him. “I sort of assumed you’d oversleep.”

Sirius makes an indignant scoffing noise, but he appears to have nothing more to say. He seems in especially brutish form today. You’re as unphased by his moods as usual, hooking your arm through his.

“I’m sorry to get you both up so early, but I suppose two guard dogs are even better than one.” You squeeze Sirius’ bicep affectionately, and the look you send Remus is pure sweetness. “It’s really nice of you both to come.”

Something warm and fond blooms in Remus’ chest. Sirius mutters some disgruntled sort of assent.

You grin. “And now, we can all buy our own drinks!”

“Oh, fuck this then,” Sirius’ irritating pugnacious tone is back, though now it’s at least partly for show. “I didn’t realize that was part of the deal. I want out.”

You only make an amused pffting sound, pulling him playfully against your side.

Remus falls back to let the two of you walk alongside each other on the sidewalk. It’s odd and occasionally entertaining to watch you, so entirely familiar and at ease with each other. It’s the sort of relationship Remus hasn’t had in years, and he’s beginning to question whether he ever had a bond quite as close as yours. It’s obvious even from the outside that the pair of you know each other inside and out, and that you love each other just as deeply. But Sirius’ love is another thing entirely; the way he looks at you is almost too painful to witness.

Remus doesn’t understand why Sirius hasn’t pursued you. He certainly prefers it this way; it makes his job considerably easier with things platonic and professional between the pair of you, but it just doesn’t add up. Sirius strikes him as the sort of cocksure prat who goes for what he wants, every time. He’s certainly arrogant enough to be sure he’ll get it, and admittedly, with his looks and devil-may-care attitude, there aren’t many people Remus can see turning him down. (They definitely should, but they likely wouldn’t.) Perhaps, after knowing him so long and working with him so closely, you’re simply too smart to get entangled with the likes of Sirius Black.

You do eventually look back to call Remus up to join the two of you. Sirius looks irked at this, and Remus wishes he could say he was more mature, but he goes in large part because of it. You loop your other arm through his and make sure to include him in your conversation the rest of the way to the rink.

The morning’s practice goes by with much of the same forced camaraderie. You’re friendly and receptive, Sirius is loud and irksome, but overall Remus is pleased with how things are going. You’re improving every day, to a degree Remus can’t help but admire. He can easily see you perfecting this routine by the Olympics in less than a month, which certainly defies his expectations from when he first started coaching you. Sirius is the same as always; he’s not as consistent or as controlled as Remus would like, but he doesn’t seem inclined to change and his form is (though Remus wouldn’t admit it aloud even at knifepoint) truly beautiful to watch.

By the end, he has only one thing to say.

“I think we need to up the ante.”

You look up from where you’re putting on your skate guards, intrigued. “How do you mean?”

“You’re going to perfect this routine.” Remus can say that with confidence now. A nice little bonus is the way your face lights with bashful pride when he does. “You’ll get plenty of execution points from that, but if you want to really compete it wouldn’t hurt to add a higher difficulty move.”

Sirius looks up, his gaze watchful.

“What did you have in mind?” you ask.

“A death spiral,” says Remus. “We could fit it in during the lower-level sequence towards the end. You should be ending with more of a crescendo anyway.”

You’re nodding. “An outside death spiral?”

“And backwards, if you’re up for it.”

“No way.” Sirius’ skates are already in his bag. You look over at him, bemused, but he’s looking at Remus. “You can’t fuck with the program this late. It’s only a couple of weeks before we leave.”

Reluctantly, Remus turns to face him. His eyes are like a brewing storm. “And would you like to medal whilst you’re there?”

“We don’t need this to medal.”

“You don’t know what the competition will be like. You need to bring everything you can to the routine.”

Sirius kisses his teeth. He stands, looking at Remus with barely repressed malice. “A backwards outside death spiral isn’t something you can just toss in at the last minute. We’re only just starting to manage what we have in the routine already! It’s too risky.”

Remus fights the urge to roll his eyes. Sirius isn’t subtle; it’s clear what this is really about. “She’s going to be fine,” he says firmly, refusing to back down when the other boy's eyes narrow. “She’s perfectly capable of deciding for herself whether she wants to do this, and your feelings cannot be the deciding factor here. The death spiral is a staple of pair routines. You have to take some risks if you want to compete at this level.”

“Oh, do you?” Sirius’ laugh is cold and dead. “Is that what you did? If it’s so fucking easy, why don’t we get out there so you can show us how it’s done?” He juts his chin towards the ice, jaw set and eyes blazing. “You can let us see how great it works out to take risks.”

Remus doesn’t even feel the ache in his hip as he takes two quick steps towards Sirius, towering over the other boy with his blood pounding in his ears. Sirius is forced to look up, but he turns his chin up defiantly. His face hardens as he takes in a short, quick breath.

You cram yourself between them.

It’s like snapping back into his body. Remus stumbles back, his hip screaming at the hurried motion. He bites the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste iron, collapsing backwards onto the bench while you put yourself in front of Sirius like a human shield. Your expression is wrathful.

“Do not do that,” you growl. You reach behind you, taking Sirius’ forearm in your grasp as though to keep him from moving. “God, why do you both have to be such dickheads to each other? We’re done here.”

You march straight past Remus, dragging Sirius along on your other side like a dog on a leash. He looks about as shell-shocked as Remus feels. Your outburst knocked him flat on his ass, literally. It’s not that Remus didn’t think you were capable of yelling; he suspected you had fangs, but the venom came as a surprise.

He winces when the door bangs shut behind you. They probably deserve that. He doesn’t envy Sirius, who’s likely to get a lengthy lecture from you on the walk home, but Remus does realize this could mean him losing his job. Trading petty remarks with Sirius had almost begun to feel like part of his role, but he’d never expected to make you so furious. He doesn’t know what it will mean for him that he has.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

During the entirety of Remus’ long, steamy shower, he cannot stop thinking of the look on Sirius’ face. The way his eyes had almost changed color, going from a murky gray to blue like the hottest part of a flame. He’d looked almost pleading, for half a second after Remus first brought up the death spiral, before his face hardened back into harsh stoniness. He keeps fixating on that look, that second where the dynamic between them seemed on the brink of shifting before it didn’t. But maybe it never could have. Maybe Remus imagined the whole thing; it was only half a second, anyway.

Regardless, he feels stupid for stooping to Sirius’ level. He’s better than that, he hopes, but in the last few weeks he’s let the other boy bring out the worst in him. He decides that if you don’t fire him, he’s going to try harder to be above it. If Sirius wants to trade insults like a child, Remus can treat him like a child; with patience and a repertoire of aloof platitudes, but he won’t engage with him anymore.

He’s put on a pair of pajama pants and is moving the waistband to hold a pack of frozen peas to his hip when there’s a knock on his door. He leans back to peer through the window, and there you are, blowing into your hands and shivering on his doorstep.

Remus groans as he gets up. He was really hoping to have at least one night of relaxation before having to have this conversation.

You must stop rubbing your hands together when you hear him opening the door. “Hi,” you say.

“Hi,” Remus replies, amused despite himself. They’re having one of those odd nights where snow falls but doesn’t stick, except to you apparently. Little white flakes are tangled in your hair and dusted across your shoulders. Remus can see some between your eyelashes when you blink. You’re stiff as a board, but there’s no hiding the tiny waves of trembles that shake your frame.

“I hope it’s okay that I didn’t call first.” Your voice is teetering on the brink of a chitter.

“Yeah, it’s alright.” Remus really shouldn’t feel so warm towards you when you’re likely here to fire (or at the very least, berate) him, but you do look terribly cold. “Would you like to come in?”

“Yeah, thanks.” You step inside so fast he hardly has time to make room for you, and the sleeve of your coat brushes against his bare chest, making him shiver. Remus realizes then that he’s not wearing a shirt, but he decides not to care; it is his house (or his rental, at least), and you’re the one who showed up unannounced. He’s entitled to be as underdressed as he likes.

This small bit of indignance, though founded entirely from a battle within himself, reminds Remus to be miffed with you.

“If you’re going to ask me to apologize to Sirius,” he says, going to the kitchen to put the kettle on (he may be miffed, but he is still Welsh), “you can save it. I have no intention of getting into a row like that with him again, but I was not the one who was being unreasonable.”

You rub your lips together, nodding. “Yeah, I agree. You shouldn’t apologize to him.”

Remus feels his eyebrows draw together. “Okay…good. Because I’m not planning on it,” he says, just to be sure you understand. “He was completely out of line.”

You nod again. “He was.”

Remus finds his eyes straying to the door while he mulls over whether he’s feeling impolite enough to ask the next logical question. Then what are you doing here?

You take in a breath, letting it whoosh out of you. “I came because I want to apologize.”

It’s impossible to keep the surprise off his face. “You?”

“Yeah.” You rock a bit on your feet, and Remus realizes you’re still wearing your coat. Either you don’t plan to stay long, or you’re too anxious to take it off without an invitation. “I’m sorry I shouted at you earlier. It was really harsh—I mean, I was right, but I didn’t need to be cruel about it.” You glance to the side, a bit of bashfulness softening your voice. “I also shouldn’t have called you a dickhead.”

A little chuckle escapes him. “We were being dickheads.”

“You were,” you agree, “but I still shouldn’t have said it. I don’t want to be like that. I’m sorry, and I hope you still want to stay with us.”

You look back at him, your expression intentionally firm but your eyes beseeching, and some part of Remus melts. He and Sirius get into fights all the time—loud ones, with shouting and name calling and absolutely no holds barred—but you snap at them once, and here you are. Having walked here by yourself in the cold because you feel bad about it.

“Let me get your coat,” he offers.

You take your tea to the couch, where you curl up automatically on the side opposite Remus’, pulling your legs in so he can pass between you and the coffee table. Remus picks his peas back up as he sits carefully, stifling a groan. It’s a bit embarrassing to ice his hip in front of you, but the pain has become too much to ignore.

You wince as you watch him settle them underneath his waistband. “Is that because of me?”

He can’t very well tell you the truth when you sound so guilty. “No,” he says. “I have to do this a lot.” That part’s not a lie.

You nod, still looking sorry. Remus is grateful when you move on quickly.

“Just so you know,” you say, “Sirius probably won’t apologize to you either.”

Remus almost snorts. “Yeah, I wasn’t anticipating he would.”

You smile ruefully. “I know he probably feels bad about saying what he did—he knows he had no right—but he just gets so caught up in anger sometimes. If it helps at all, today was just an especially hard day for him. He’s always…extra on edge around this time of year. You learn not to take the things he says personally.”

Remus studies you through narrowed eyes. He blows steam off his tea. “Does he do that to you often?”

You shake your head. “I don’t typically goad him,” you say with no small amount of humor. Or pointedness.

He lifts a brow. He’s already told you he won’t be apologizing for giving as good as he gets.

You sigh, your expression going somber. “Listen, I know Sirius can get really—” you shake your head again, blowing out a breath “—really quite hot headed, but you can’t get in his face like that. His life has—well, it’s not my place to tell you about what his life has been, but even when he says things like that, you can’t act all threatening just because you’re having a spat, okay?”

Remus feels his brow wrinkle. “Threatening?”

Your face softens. “You looked like you were about to hit him,” you say gently.

Something inside Remus gutters. “I did?”

You nod, looking almost apologetic. He feels nauseous.

“I didn’t…”

“I don’t think you would have,” you clarify. “I’m not saying I thought you were going to hit him, I just know how Sirius works. And from his perspective, I know how it looked. You can’t do that to him.”

“I don’t want to do that to anyone.” Remus sounds injured even to his own ears, and so he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes to shut out the pained pinch of your mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he says after a few moments. “I really had no idea that’s how it looked. I think I got too caught up in being angry about what he said, but it won’t happen again.”

“I know.” Your voice is gentle. You set a hand on his knee, tentative but there. “I didn’t come here to make you feel bad. It’s okay, just…now you know. For next time.” Remus opens his eyes again, and you smile wryly. “You can shout at him all you want. Don’t let him dish it out without making him take it, but just stay away from physical stuff like that, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Remus agrees hoarsely. “Thank you.”

“Don’t sweat it.” You give his knee a friendly pat, leaning back against the couch cushions and sipping your tea.

Again, Remus marvels at you. Sirius fights for you every day, whether you ask him to or not, loud and bold and relentless in his devotion to you. He wonders if Sirius knows that even when he doesn’t ask, in your own way, you go to bat for him too.

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asapeveryday · 6 months ago

Text

SWIM ★彡

Pairing: Nika Mühl x Girlfriend!Reader

Warnings: shower sex

Summary: you’ve never seen Nika this mad after a game, jaw clenched shut and eyebrows furrowed. It has an affect on you that’s shameful, and she makes sure to remind you.

A/n: requested by VARIOUSSS anons. Luv u guys

THE DOOR SHUTS behind you loudly, and you can’t help but jump at the force of it. Nika almost pushes past you and heads straight for the kitchen, downing a glass of water and roughly wiping her mouth afterwards. She’s staring into nothing, mind obviously racing after a disastrous game.

You know better than to say anything to her, when she doesn’t preform how she hoped it’s best to keep a distance. Nika is usually good tempered and you’ve always loved that about her; her practicality, her levelheaded-ness. It came in handy when you were needy and exasperated, the way she’d simply purr your name and smile was enough to calm you down…even if her fingers were inside of you.

Her pent up anger was not unheard of, but still rather alien. What freaked you out more was how much of a struggle it was proving to be to keep quiet and distant.

Nika is bulldozing throughout your apartment now, throwing her jacket on the couch and tossing her shoes by the door before roughly yanking out her ponytail in a way that you know must hurt her.

“Can you stop fucking looking at me?” She snaps, her eyes narrowing at you and finally acknowledging your presence.

“Sorry.” You swallow, though you can’t help but admire her. It’s impossible to avoid the twitch in your pussy at the ferocity of her stare, her toned body slumping on the couch, or the frustrated lilt in her voice.

“Did you have fun?” She asks. “Watching me play like a loser today. Did you enjoy it?” She says now, dangerously calm compared to her earlier tone.

Nervously, you say “Of course I didn’t.” To which she raises an eyebrow.

“So it must’ve been a waste of time watching your girlfriend play like shit, huh.” Nika scoffs. “Were you embarrassed?”

“No!” You rush out, approaching her carefully. “I’m never gonna be embarrassed, Niks. It was one bad game, shit happens.”

She doesn’t have to say anything back, you already know the look on her face by heart. It’s one anyone who’s involved with an athlete knows, the look that says ‘you couldn’t possibly understand’. That expression on her face is one that you dread.

“Tell me what you want me to do Nika. How do I support you through things like this?” You sigh.

“You can support me by backing off.” She smiles, not with her usual kindness but with some sort of buried anger. “N’ stop gawking at me like a lost puppy. It’s fucking annoying.”

You cross your arms at this. You love Nika, but her anger makes her unreasonable.

“You sure you want me to back off? You’re the one who asked to come to my apartment.”

She stares at you for a moment that feels too long, the weight of her gaze growing heavier and harder to hold by the moment. You can’t read her expression anymore and it’s both enticing and nerve wracking.

“Since you wanna be smart,” she says, getting up from the couch and sauntering up to you. “I can think of something else you can do for me.”

Her tone is different now. Demanding in a way that excites you. You can’t help but squeeze your thighs together. “Anything you want.” You mumble. “I’ll do it.”

Nika’s eyes sparkle at this, clearly satisfied with your answer. “Strip.”

You’re frozen at her order. She’s seen you naked before, but not under pressure like this. She notices your hesitation and tilts her head. “You said anything, right?”

You nod slightly, slowly pulling off the top you’d worn to her game as well as your shorts before timidly un clipping your bra, leaving your breasts bare and nipples hardening from the new cold of your apartment. You try your best to hold her eye as you slip your panties down your legs and step out of them and towards her.

The feeling of standing there stark naked as your girlfriend soaks in the sight of you in silence is more vulnerable than anything you’ve felt in a long time. You can’t help but bring your hands to your breasts in attempts to cover something.

When Nika’s lips meet yours it’s languid and calculated, her hands ripping your own from your chest as she clashes teeth with you. Letting go of your wrists, she says. “Go turn on the shower.” And when you look at her inquisitively she shoots you a smirk. “I’ll be there soon.”

You let the water warm until steam forms to coat the glass doors of the shower, your hair now soaked through and your skin hot. The sound of the bathroom door opening and closing sends a shiver down your spine, and when the glass opens and closes you know Nika has kept her word.

Nothing happens at first, she stands under the water with you, wetting her hair and skin whilst closing her eyes beneath the shower head. You know she can feel you staring, but there’s no reason you shouldn’t with her bare body on display. Her muscles glistening and wet, her belly piercing gleaming through the steam. When your eyes part from her body, they meet her own.

When your lips clash again it’s sensual and charges with a force you can feel deep in your core. Her hands are quickly on either sides of your head when your back hits the cold tile of the bathroom wall, and you let yourself grasp at her tan flesh while she explores your mouth.

“What do you want me to do, Niks.” You huff out between kisses.

“Be quiet.” She says in an instant. “N’ let me fuck you.”

You nod fervently at her request, allowing her to suckle your neck and chest until you’re painted pink and purple. You know she loves to mark you, to have a remnant of her on your body is like a dream come true for the both of you.

As her mouth latches onto your tit, her fingers begin to tease at your pussy. She just barely rubs your clit, smiling at your whines and pleads.

“You don’t even deserve this.” She sighs. “You don’t care if I win or lose, you jus know you’re getting fucked anyways.”

She’s still teasing you, applying pressure and then taking it away at every breath you take. Your hips are beginning to buck at the stimulation or lack of thereof.

“Please, baby.” You beg, throwing your head back. “Please just touch me.”

Nika clicks her tongue before slipping two fingers inside of you. “Keep looking at me or else I’ll get out of the shower.” She grunts.

You hurriedly shift your gaze to her, and the sight is mesmerizing, her tongue swirling around your nipple while her fingers pump in and out of you slowly. Her hair is wet and spread out down her back and over her breasts, her cheeks are pink from the hot water.

Your legs begin to shake when she quickens her pace, watching her digits disappear and reappear into your heat as she innocently smiles. The sound of your slick is just barely covered by the loud noise of the running water that drenches both of you. You reach a hand out to the glass that encloses the shower, leaving a handprint. Nika notices this and immediately has an idea.

In an instant you’re shoved against the glass, and you gasp at the sudden contact all while her fingers are still inside you. “Nika!” You exclaim. “Careful, the glass might-”

“Shut up,” she murmurs, head now resting on your shoulder. She’s pressed flush against you as she stretches you out. “You won’t break anything.”

You trust in her words and allow yourself to loosen up again. The sight from the other side must be immaculate, your breasts, face and hands pressed against the steam covered glass. If your roommate was to need to use the washroom for anything, she’d surely never be able to look you in the face again.

Nika rubs the condensation from a spot in the glass so you can see outside, directly into the mirror that faces you. The scene is so lewd you can feel your orgasm building.

“Look at you.” Nika coos. Her own eyes are also trained on the mirror, on your face screwed up in pleasure, on your pussy sucking her in. “How slutty is this?”

“Nika.” You cry, moaning a mess of words as your stomach gets tenser by the minute. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it.” She orders, and as if clockwork you climax all over her fingers. She presses a harsh kiss to your cheek and releases you from the pressure against the glass shower wall.

You hug her underneath the stream of the shower and she laughs. “Are you feeling better?” You mumble into her neck, and she nods. “Much better.”

“Good.” You smile. “Now clean me up and take me out of here.”

#Spotify #fanfiction #fanfic #uconn wbb #rpf #nika muhl x reader #nika mühl #nika muhl #nika muhl smut #Nika mühl smut #smut #uconn women’s basketball #uconn x reader #ncaa wbb #wbb #wbb x reader #x reader

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dreamescapeswriting · 1 month ago

Text

Sometimes The Quietest Love Is The Loudest ~ KSM

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅WORD COUNT: 3.7K

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅GENRE: established relationships, mafia au, arranged marriage, smut, breeding kink, MINORS DNI, thigh riding, make out, angry kiss, breeding, unproected sex - obviously - jealousy

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅PAIRING: Seungmin x Fem!Reader

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - October 2024

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅MASTERLIST

Things between you and Seungmin were...rocky, to say the least. The two of you rarely got along with one another but you were forced together no matter the feelings you held for another person. You came out of the walk-in wardrobes to find Seungmin standing in front of the large mirror in the shared bedroom you had. Dressed in a sharp black suit as he stood before it, adjusting the cufflinks on his sleeves, his lip caught between his teeth as he struggled to do them alone.

He was always meticulous about his appearance, never one to leave a detail unchecked. The event tonight was important—some gathering of underworld allies - you were sure he'd told you about it but you probably only paid half attention to him. But it was the same thing it always was with Seungmin, a power play. He was expected to win...Seungmin always won.

A soft sound caught his attention forcing him to look up from his cufflinks, and he turned to see you approaching him slowly. Your dress flowed elegantly around you, your expression neutral but not as distant as usual, something that made him feel a little uneasy. Without saying a word, you stepped in front of him and gently reached for his tie, loosening it and then straightening it with deliberate care.

Seungmin stood still. Almost frozen in place as he watched you closely. He wasn't used to this...your touch, your closeness without the usual tension between you. It felt almost alien, but somehow… nice. For the first time since the arranged marriage had been forced upon you both, you weren’t cold or dismissive toward him. You were kind and caring over his suit and he didn't know if he should have checked you for some kind of alien tampering.

"Thanks," he murmured, his voice lower than intended as he searched your face for any clue to this change. It wasn't like the two of you did this thing a lot. Whenever you were around family the caring and kind side of you came out but right now it was just the two of you. Alone.

You glanced up at him briefly, your fingers still lingering on the tie, smoothing it into place, your teeth softly biting your lower lip. The silence between you was no longer filled with awkwardness but something softer, though unspoken.

"No problem," You whispered before finishing off the cufflinks he had previously been struggling with. Staring down at the diamonds which were the gemstone of the month the two of you had been married in. You did your best to ignore the flutter you were feeling in your chest.

This whole thing had started because your parents had decided the two of you MUST marry. That the mafia prince and Princess were going to have perfect babies and bring two crime families together. They hadn't cared that you'd been in love with another, that your heart belonged to somebody else but he wasn't a part of your world...You weren't allowed him.

Seungmin swallowed as he watched you closely, feeling a strange tug inside him. This was unexpected, this brief moment of peace with you... yet he enjoyed it. He craved this from you, this was all he'd ever wanted from the start, something harmonious that you could build a relationship on.

He knew that things between you weren't ideal but he'd wanted to make it so, he wanted to be the one you'd turned to for things and to become someone you could love...or at least stand to be around for longer than you were contractually obligated to be.

Before he could stop himself, the words slipped out, quieter than usual, as though he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"Why can't you be like this with me all the time?" The question hung in the air, filled with vulnerability he never allowed himself to show. For a brief second, he regretted it, he wanted to kick himself for letting the words slip out. His eyes searched yours again, hoping for an answer he knew he couldn’t have. You were in love with someone else. He had always known that. God, you'd screamed it at him the day of your wedding but he wanted you...he wanted you to at least be calm and peaceful with him....Even friends, and no amount of formality, no perfect tie, would change it.

You blinked, caught off guard by the softness in his tone, you hadn't been expecting him to say anything. You opened your mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. But for Seungmin the silence was enough of an answer.

Seungmin’s expression shifted back to the familiar mask he wore in public. His eyes hardened, and the vulnerability vanished, replaced by the careful calculation of a mafia prince who couldn’t afford weakness.

"Never mind," he said, stepping away from you, the distance between you reappearing as quickly as it had faded. He smoothed down his suit jacket, straightened his posture, and glanced at the door.

"Guests are waiting." He grumbled, and without another word, he walked out of the room, leaving you standing there, the tie perfectly straight but the gap between you two still unresolved.

As the door clicked shut behind Seungmin, you stood alone in the quiet room, your fingers lingering in the air where his tie had been just moments ago. You sighed softly, the coolness of the room sinking in as you faced your reflection in the mirror. For so long, everyone around you had assumed you were still in love with him—the one who occupied your heart long before this marriage. And maybe, at one time, you had been. But now? Now things were different.

Your old boyfriend was a memory you couldn’t seem to escape from—the one everyone thought you pined for. And perhaps, in the early days of this forced marriage, you had clung to the idea of him. The idea of an escape from everything...It had been easier, and safer, to focus on what you had lost rather than deal with the reality of what you had gained. But somewhere along the way, without you even realizing it, Seungmin had started to slip into the cracks of your defences.

It wasn’t his words—because there was a rarity between you both. But his actions spoke louder than any of the silence between you. The way he made sure your coffee was brewed just how you liked it every morning, without fail - even when he was busy. How he brought home fresh flowers for no reason at all, sometimes setting them quietly on the dining table as if he didn’t want to make a big deal of it.

He wasn’t expressive with grand gestures or romantic declarations. But every weekend, when he could have easily buried himself in work, Seungmin made time for you. He would set aside the weight of his responsibilities, and his title as mafia prince, and simply… be there. And it wasn’t just about showing up—it was the intentionality of it. He always made sure your birthday was a day off for him, no matter how hectic things got. How he would mark your family’s special days on his calendar and never let work interfere.

These small, quiet acts of consideration had wormed their way into your heart, piece by piece. You couldn’t deny that part of you had grown used to him—maybe even more than that. Sometimes the quietest love is the loudest.

Maybe you weren’t the only one who had grown used to this life that you shared—this marriage between you. Maybe Seungmin felt something, too. You thought back to his question, the vulnerability that had slipped through for just a second. The way his eyes had practically burnt into the side of your head,

"Why can't you be like this with me all the time?"

Maybe, if you were honest with yourself, you didn’t hate the idea of trying. The doorbell went wrecking your mind before you straighten out your dress, ready to go and join your husband and the rest of his guests.

The evening had been a whirlwind of distractions, one after the other, keeping you and Seungmin apart. No matter how hard you tried, someone was always there—another conversation, another handshake, another person demanding his attention and leaving you with nothing. You’d spent the whole night stealing glances at him, your heart tightening each time he turned away, wondering if he even noticed. Wondering if he could feel how much you'd been staring at him all night. All you wanted was a moment alone, a chance to talk—really talk. To air all of it out. To tell him everything you'd been holding back.

When the opportunity finally came, it was almost a relief. The music slowed, and you caught his eye across the room, you knew your parents and guests were going to want to see you together and this was the perfect chance to talk alone with him. Without hesitation, you moved toward him, slipping through the crowd until you were finally by his side. You slid your glass into the waiter's hand and smiled up at Seungmin. He met you with a soft look, one that was reserved only for you in the midst of all the chaos.

"Shall we dance?" You asked, your voice low, intimate, as if the crowd had faded and it was just the two of you. Seungmin was completely shocked but nodded. Smiling more you began by taking his hand as he pulled you onto the dance floor. His touch was firm, and grounding, and the closeness between you felt different tonight. As his hand settled on your waist, pulling you just a bit closer, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of what you were about to say. This was the moment you’d been waiting for all night.

"I’ve been thinking," you started, your voice barely above a whisper as you looked up at him. The lights around you made his eyes look like they had a million stars dancing in them, your heart was racing from how close you were to him and you could barely breathe,

"You've been thinking..." He desperately urged you to continue. He would have had to be a blind man not to have noticed you watching him all night and he wanted to know why.

"Maybe we could—" Before you could finish, a voice cut through the music, freezing you in place. It was a voice you hadn't heard in a while but it still sent the same chills down your spine as it did all those years ago,

"Yn." You stiffened instantly, recognizing the voice behind you. Seungmin’s body tensed beside you, his eyes narrowing as he looked over your shoulder, you could tell by the dark look in his eyes who it was but your heart sank knowing he'd shown up here.

On the night you were finally going to tell Seungmin you wanted to make this work. That you wanted to try again. He was here.

Your old boyfriend - Kai - Malakai Rhodes.

"Please," he begged, stepping closer, his eyes filled with desperation you hadn’t seen in a long time but you stepped back, Seungmin moving with you.

"Just… just give me a moment to talk." He begged.b Seungmin’s grip on your waist tightened, his jaw clenching,

"We were in the middle of something, Yn...Tell me what it was you were thinking of," Seungmin begged, his eyes pleading with yours as you stared back at him, you could feel the heat of Seungmins jealousy radiating off him, though he remained composed. His eyes never left you, watching, waiting, as if daring you to say no.

"Seungmin-" He squeezed you softly and shook his head. Silently begging you not to do this. People were staring in your direction and they all knew who Kai was to you.

"Don't do this, people will talk," he whispered to you... But you couldn’t avoid it. You’d known this moment would come, eventually. You gently pulled away from Seungmin, giving him an apologetic look. His eyes flickered with hurt as he watched you willing to go to someone else but he didn’t stop you.

"I’ll be right back," you whispered, but you could tell by the way his jaw tightened that it didn’t ease the tension between you, standing up you pressed your lips to his cheek softly. Seungmin stood there, rooted in place as he watched you walk away with the man he’d always known was still a shadow in your heart. His chest tightened, anxiety blooming inside him as he watched you two speak. He couldn’t hear the words, but he didn’t need to. The way your ex-boyfriend leaned in close, the way his eyes pleaded with you, stirred a possessiveness in Seungmin that he’d never felt this strongly before. He hated how this man still had the power to pull you away, even for a moment.

Seungmin's fingers flexed at his side, restless, as jealousy churned in his gut. He couldn't hear anything, couldn’t know what was being said. All he could do was stand there, his thoughts spiralling. What if this was the moment you decided to leave? What if you were planning to leave him tonight? Was this you going to leave and make him look like a fool?

The conversation didn’t last long, but for Seungmin, every second dragged out like an eternity. When you finally turned back to him, his pulse quickened. You walked toward him, your expression conflicted as if you were about to explain, to say something that would make it all make sense.

Before you could utter a single word, Seungmin grabbed your wrist, pulling you close with an intensity that left no room for questions. His lips crashed against yours, fierce and wild, as if he needed to remind both of you who you belonged to. It wasn’t soft or gentle—it was desperate, claiming, a kiss that held all the words he didn’t know how to say.

He poured everything into that kiss—the jealousy, the fear, the anger—and you couldn’t help but respond, your hands finding their way to his chest as you melted into him. For a moment, the world faded again, just like on the dance floor, and all that existed was the two of you, tangled in a mess of unspoken emotions.

When he finally pulled back, his breathing ragged, he searched your face for something—an answer, a reassurance, anything. But he didn’t let go of you, his grip still firm, his forehead resting against yours.

"I don’t care what he said," Seungmin muttered, his voice low and possessive.

"You’re mine," he growled out before dragging you into the hall, your lips once again crashing against one another in a heated kiss. Everything the two of you had been holding back came out in this one kiss, your hands pushed into his hair and tugged softly on the strands.

Every kiss was wetter and needier than the one before as you moved your way up to your shared bedroom.

One minute you'd been standing in the hall the next you were pinned to the bedroom wall with his thigh between your legs.

"You're mine."He repeated, biting down softly on your leg and sucking on your exposed skin, and making his way down to your collarbone.

"Seungmin please," You beg, you weren't exactly sure what you were begging for, more kisses, more friction, just more. Your hips moved, grinding down against his thigh as you let out a loud moan of his name, you desperately chased your release as you rubbed your clit on his pants.

"No underwear? I should spank your ass raw." Seungmin whispered in your ear, smirking as you continued to grind down against him enjoying the way you were getting off when he'd barely even started on you yet.

"It ruined the dress," You whined making him chuckle softly as he shifted his leg a little,

"Look how pretty you are when you're needy for me, none of this talking back," He whispered in your ear as you continued to grind down against him,

"Don't stop," You begged, the words sounding more desperate than you had intended them to but you didn't really care. All you cared about was getting close to a release you'd been needing for months.

"Never, princess." He moans in your ear. You continued to grind against him, your release building and building as you rubbed needily and frantically against him.

"Come for me princess," He whispers in your ear, biting down on your ear lobe as your orgasm rips through you.

When you came down from the high you looked at Seungmin who was pointing over at the bed,

"Go. Dress off. Legs spread." He ordered, ripping off his tie all the while he kept his eyes on you.

You hadn't needed to be told twice, you stripped out of the gown and laid on the bed, your legs spread as he smirked down at you. His eyes were on your bare core as he slowly licked his lips,.

"You don't have to do that-"

"have to, no. Want to? Yes." He chuckled as he slowly sank down to his knees in front of you,

"Seungmin-"

"Do you want this pretty pussy eating out, princess?" he cocked his eyebrow at you. He wasn't expecting you to protest at this part but he wouldn't continue unless he had your full consent.

"Yes, but-"

"Do you enjoy being eaten out? Does it make you uncomfortable?" His fingers slowly tailed up your naked thigh sending a shiver through your body as you shook your head,

"What? N-no, but I know some guys don't-"

"Guys who don't eat their girl's cunt and make her cum at least twice before entering her are selfish and I will scrub their names from your memory." He growled before delving in. He surrounded your bud, sucking it into his mouth and making you buck off the bed,

"Jesus-"

"Just Seungmin," He groaned against you. His tongue darts out, tasting your sensitive skin as he continues to eat you out. It felt all-consuming as you cried out his name, not giving a shit about the guests you both had downstairs.

"S-Seungmin!" You cry out as he continues to taste every inch of you. Groaning against your clit, sucking and teasing every inch of you. His hands were over your thighs as he dragged you into his mouth, almost as if he couldn't get close enough. You moan loudly, completely under his control.

"Fuck, Seungmin." You whimpered as you ground your hips down to his face.

"Please let me cum," you begged as you dragged your nails through his hair, he growled getting rougher with you until you came around his tongue, crying his name out louder than the last time. Your body went limp against the mattress and a giant smile took over your face as you giggled looking up at your husband who was now stripping in front of you.

"You know what I'm going to do tonight?" He asks, tapping the head of his cock at your entrance, your eyes on each other as you bit your lip.

"What?"

"I'm fucking a baby into you, that way there's no doubt your mine." Seungmin watched as your cunt clenched around nothing and he chuckled to himself.

"You want that princess?" You nod needily at him as he slowly pushes into you, your moans filling the room as he fills you for the first time ever.

"Y-You're so big." You whimpered, your nails digging into his skin softly as he smirked.

"You're good for a man's ego, princess." He laughed softly before moaning as you clenched tightly around him. Slowly he began to pull out, only to push deeply back into you,

“Fuck, this pussy was made for me,” Seungmin groans breathlessly as he glides his calloused palms over your thighs and pushes your legs to your chest to whisper in your ear.

“I’m gonna fill you up, love. You want that, don’t you? Of course, you do... I’m going to fill you up with my cum and make you carry my fucking kid—” He grunts loudly as he nods his head/

"Seungmin!" You cry out, clenching around him and whimpering as you nod your head at him. Your fingers found their way into his hair and he began to kiss your neck and your collarbones leaving a trail over your chest.

"Scream for me princess, let everyone know that your Husband is the one making you cum for him." He growled at you, his jealousy taking over him as he continued to fuck into you roughly like it was his last day on earth.

“You’re a naughty little princess. I felt you clench around me when I said that,” he chuckles lowly and your cheeks heat up in sheer embarrassment, but you can’t stop the whine that left your throat,

"Wanna be yours forever," you moan out, looking at him so he knew you were being serious about all of this. That he was the only one for you now.

"yeah?" His hips stuttered ever-so-slightly and you could see him trying to figure out if this was the truth, you leant up, wrapping your legs around him tightly as he continued to thrust into your needy and waiting cunt.

"Make me yours, make me carry your babies, Seungmin." You beg, his hips desperately moving as he pounded into you, your pussy clenching around him as you came once again, your mouth falling open in ecstasy. That was all it took for him to fall with you, his cock twitching as he spills deep into you, your legs still locked around his hips as you let out a small whimper.

The two of you lay there, his cock still buried deep inside of you as you stared at the ceiling. You knew he was going to ask about your ex sooner or later and you wanted to tell him.

"So...about Kai." You said breathlessly.

"He was coming to say he was asking my permission to ask someone else to marry him," you finish, your eyes nervously finding Seungmins as he stared down at you,

"And I told him yes because I was falling for you." You whisper, barely finishing the words before Seungmin kissed you needily, his cock twitching inside of you as you giggled.

"Again?" You asked as he growled, kissing your neck.

"I told you, I was going to fuck a baby into you Mrs Kim." He moans, his thrusts sloopy at first but picking up.

You were in for a long and eventful night.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @myyouthdonut @extrhotjne @ca11me3mily @elissasimp @piercedddriver

#skz #skz x reader #skz imagine #skz imagines #skz smut #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #seungmin #seungmin x reader #seungmin imagine #seungmin imagines #seungmin smut #kim seungmin #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin imagines #kim seungmin smut

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multi-fandomprompts · 3 months ago

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Mom!Danny, Dad!Vlad, Kids!Dani and Dan, Batfam and Misunderstandings

Dp x Dc Prompt:

So a bit of a twist on the usual dp x dc trope; Vlad is the one who has come to live in the DC universe for a fresh start after he’s done his redemption thing and is getting therapy and he’s traveling around DC basically starting his company and wealth from scratch but without overshadowing people(still sketchy but what business man isn’t). Vlad happens to be in Gotham when Danny(18 y/o) comes to visit with Dani(Ellie)(5 y/o) and Dan(3 y/o) for a long weekend. Dick, Jason and Damian are the first ones to see the little family in a Batburger Danny dragged Vlad into. The little family is concerning for a number of reasons not because they are obviously(to a trained eye) not human(no nonhuman racism here) but the fact that Vlad and Danny are their usual antagonistic selves(Vlad is in a better place and a better parent then any one including Vlad thought he could be but him and Danny will eternally have beef) Vlad is very familiar with Danny and the obvious age difference between Danny and Vlad(with the kids and their ages added in the picture isn’t looking good). Encounters like this happen with all of the Batfam and Danny, Vlad and the kids behavior and conversation snippets the Batfam hear do nothing to clear up the Batfam’s misunderstandings. It all ends at gala; Danny(looking gorgeous in a ice blue dress with actual ghost ice crystals on it and coming in dramatically in a white fur coat from the Far Frozen) is Vlad’s date(the kids are left at the hotel with their ghost babysitter) and the bats manage to get Danny alone and corner him after the gala and while Batfam has the best of intentions this is quite literally none of their business(and Danny and Vlad were not blind to someone following them all this time) and though Danny was quite capable of taking care of himself he calls for Vlad with his aura and to say Vlad was pissed at what he finds when he answers Danny’s call is an understatement. Danny and Vlad don’t explain anything about the kids or what they are but they do take the Batfam to task for stalking, invasion of privacy, illegal interrogation and overall being nosy assholes who don’t know how to mind their own business. Vlad and Danny then leave and the Batfam are left with a lot to think about(hopefully), when Vlad moves on from Gotham at the end of the weekend Danny takes the kids home until the next vacation to visit Vlad and Vlad stays out of Gotham from then on.

(PS. This is good Fenton parents AU they are trying their best to make up to Danny and Jazz for what their inattention has cost their kids but their friendship with Vlad is firmly over(the only reason they haven’t Ended him is because of their grandkids).)

#mom!Danny #dad!Vlad #de aged ellie #de aged dan #batfam #misunderstandings #dp x dc

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gravid-transluna · 6 months ago

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Two Birthdays

words: 4111

content: lactation, milking, clothing birth, birth denial, fpreg

Part One

A birthday is a special day. Her friend’s twenty-first should have been Mari’s only focus. However, Mari had been distracted the entire day as they spent time at the resort’s expansive pool and spa. It hadn’t been so bad at first. Her friend’s mom, Noemi, was nearly a week overdue with her second child, and though she had started the day in modest clothes—a maternity sundress draping her huge, full swell, navel protruding starkly, pressing downward from her middle—, the afternoon sun had continued to shine down on them, forcing Noemi to shed her dress, pulling it up her belly and over her head.

Mari’s face had flushed and she’d turned away, ashamed and furious at herself for her own thoughts, but she’d already seen the nakedness of Noemi’s belly, taut at the seams and painfully overdue, hanging low over her hips and melting into her otherwise small, slim frame. Sweat had shimmered, bright, on the stretched, striped skin. A dark linea nigra ran down her middle to her navel. Her belly button was hard and round like a stone. Underneath, she only wore a white two-piece bikini, and her breasts, once small and subtle, hung swollen in her top, nipples and areolae visible.

Mari’s heart wouldn’t stop fluttering every time Noemi lifted her slender hands to cup her swell, or when she rose from the sunbathing to reapply sunscreen and Mari saw her from the back; though she still tried to step with her usual grace and poise, her gait was wide, baby obviously dropped between her narrow hips, reducing her to a waddle.

It was a very uncomfortable day to be a lesbian with a fetish that especially appealed on an older woman.

This wasn’t the worst of it, though.

Mari first noticed it when Noemi reached across the table for her drink.

“Excuse me,” she said.

“Of course!” Mari squeaked.

Then Noemi’s face changed. Her reaching hand flew to her belly, and Mari followed it to see visible tensing, muscles clenched on either side, misshapen around her huge baby.

“Oh!” she said. There was something in her face now. Surprise, but also a slight urgency.

“Ms. Noemi?” Mari asked. “Are—are you okay?”

“Mm,” Noemi said, and took her glass. “I’m fine. Thank you, Mari.”

This happened multiple times throughout the day, and every time she saw that mound tense then sag, muscles relaxing, Mari’s pussy pounded badly, pulsing.

She stayed in the shade, sipping nothing but cold water with ice while her friend and the others ordered drinks at the pool bar.

After about another hour of this, Mari couldn’t take it. She left and walked to the restrooms and found a stall. Inside it she immediately yanked her bikini bottom down her legs and pressed her fingers to her clit. Her pussy throbbed for release, dripping and clenching. She began to masturbate standing over the toilet, imagining closing her lips around one of Noemi’s stiff, milk-heavy nipples.

Fuck, she thought. Fuck, fuck. Her pussy began to pulsate under her slick fingers. Her thighs shook as she came.

“Shit,” Mari said aloud, then she wiped herself down and pulled her bikini bottom back up and exited the stall, washing the slick from her hands in the sink.

Suddenly the restroom door was flung open. Mari jumped guiltily, then her eyes widened in shock as Noemi raced past her, not even noticing her at the sink, bowed over her low belly, a hand clamped to her crotch. She ran into the handicap stall and slammed the door shut. It was quiet for a moment. Then—

“Ohhhhhh.”

A muted, breathless moan and a loud splashing sound.

Mari stood frozen. She heard a small gasping from the other side of the stall door, and approached hesitantly. She rapped a timid knuckle on the door and the gasps stopped.

“U-um, Ms. Noemi? Are you okay?”

There was silence. Then, “Yes, just some Braxton Hicks contractions. I’m sorry if I startled you, Mari.”

Noemi’s voice sounded strained, so uncharacteristic of her usually soft, modulated tone.

Mari hesitated. “Are you sure? Do you need any help?”

More silence. The stall door unlocked from the inside. Mari pushed it open and her heart thumped in her chest at the sight inside.

Noemi was standing over the toilet, thighs wide apart, knees slightly bent. Her bikini bottom and legs were soaked with fluids. Her belly, somehow, appeared to hang even lower, navel pointed almost to the floor now with weight and fullness. Her face was sweaty, cheeks flushed, short dark hair clinging damply to her forehead.

“Oh my god, Ms. Noemi,” Mari said. “Your water broke, didn’t it?”

Noemi’s face tightened and she pressed her lips together, nodding and closing her eyes. She clutched reflexively at the orb between her thighs as it flexed, hardening, muscles like iron. Her brow wrinkled and she grunted as though she couldn’t stand the pressure anymore.

“Mari,” she gasped. “I need you to step out, please. I’m—I think I need to—relieve myself.”

Mari shook her head. “I think it’s the baby! Are you feeling like pushing?”

“Ughh.” Noemi’s eyes were squeezed shut. “Yes. I need to push.”

“Oh my—“ Mari trailed off. “We’ve gotta call you an ambulance.”

Suddenly the contraction released Noemi. Her belly slackened. She collapsed onto the toilet seat, thighs spread wide to accommodate her massive stomach. She panted, chest heaving.

“No,” she said. “It will ruin the party.”

“But—“

“Please.” Noemi’s eyes softened, and Mari perceived her desperation clearly. “You’re one of my daughter’s more mature friends. I don’t want to embarrass her or cause a scene, and I need your help.”

Mari gulped. “What can I do?”

Noemi sighed. “Thank you. I just need to last until the party is over.”

The restroom door opened and someone walked in.

“Ms. Noemi? Are you in there?” The voice was a little slurred, tipsy from afternoon drinking.

Noemi composed herself and raised her voice. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“O-o-okay. Haven’t popped yet, have you?”

Noemi managed a weak laugh. “Holding it in.”

For now, Mari thought.

They waited until they heard the door close. Then Noemi said, “Could you—I need you to—” was she—blushing? “I can’t go back out covered in my waters.”

“O-oh,” Mari said, and she was suddenly aware of the distinct odor coming off of Noemi, the scent of her fluids, fecund and thick, the musk of a woman close to birthing. Noemi stood as Mari grabbed a wad of toilet paper and began to dab her formerly lean thighs, thickened over the course of her pregnancy.

“And–” She was really blushing now, Mari marveled. “I’d do it myself but–I can no longer reach around my stomach.”

Happy to. Mari drew her fingers around Noemi’s hips, noting the slight intake of breath as her thumbs brushed swollen underbelly. She hooked her bikini bottom and exposed her fleshy pregnancy pussy, damp and swampy, and the odor was stronger now. Mari breathed.

Then, “you have to close your legs.”

“Mm, trying.” Noemi struggled, the baby lodged in her pelvis making it almost impossible to pinch her knees shut. Her eyes widened. “Oh no…”

Her belly hitched and went hard. Her knees immediately buckled, thighs wide again.

“I need to push,” she said. She groaned as she began to bear down. The sides of her belly sucked in with the force of her pushing.

“No! Ms. Noemi, you have to hold it in, remember?” Mari said.

“Hnnnnfgh,” Noemi groaned. She tried to resist. “Hooh-hooh, god. I need to push.”

Mari, not knowing how to help, planted her palms on Noemi’s belly and rubbed the hot, furious skin. It burned under her palms, fevered. She could feel the desperate convulsions of Noemi’s strong internal muscles as they worked to expel her baby against her efforts.

“Oh,” Noemi grunted.

“Sorry!”

“No! No–ouugh–please. Don’t stop.”

Noemi closed her eyes and raised her chin, swaying back and forth as Mari stroked the tight, oblong surface. Experimentally, she flicked her thumb across Noemi’s bulging navel, and Noemi shivered.

The contraction ended, leaving Noemi worn and restless, her baby’s head burrowed deeper into her birth canal, fuller even, than she’d been before her labor. Mari removed her hands from Noemi’s belly, and Noemi appeared embarrassed, almost bashful.

“I wish–hah–you didn’t have to see me like this, much less care for me in such a compromising–ugh–condition. Modesty is hard enough to maintain when it comes to pregnancy.”

“You’re beautiful,” Mari said honestly.

Startled and disarmed, Noemi looked at her. It could have been the heat flush, or she could have been blushing again.

Part Two

They exited the restroom together and for the next hour, Noemi mingled near the pool bar, a drink in hand, and endured the powerful, relentless contractions. Mari stood beside her, and the first time another contraction struck she saw Noemi double over, muscles banding her belly, legs widening instinctively.

“Oh,” she whispered. “OH. I’m pushinnng-hnnngh.”

“No, you’re not,” Mari hissed back. “You can do this.” She placed a covert hand on Noemi’s curved back, massaging it gently, already accustomed to touching Noemi’s exposed, laboring body.

Noemi straightened, and painstakingly closed her legs as much as she could, attempting to hold her baby firm in her canal. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Her grunts diminished into effortful pants.

“That’s it, Ms. Noemi,” Mari said. “I don’t think anybody noticed.”

“Good,” Noemi moaned under her breath. “Good. I’m feeling like pushing all the time now, even when the contraction’s gone. There’s so much pressure, right between my legs.”

Another contraction that hour had Noemi leaning heavily on Mari for support, her obtrusive belly pushing into Mari’s own flat tummy, making Mari wonder at the sensation of such a packed, heavy womb. She could feel the steely stretched muscles rippling against her. The skin contact moved heat from Mari’s stomach to between her legs, and again her pussy was beating, quick and warm like a pulse. She worried that she was leaking through her bikini bottom now, dizzied by arousal. Then Noemi moaned in her ear, arms wrapped around her shoulders, and Mari felt a wetness drip down her inner thigh.

“Aye, go get your mom!”

“Should she be drinking in that state?”

Luckily, everyone was too drunk at this point to think much about it.

Contractions were gripping Noemi mercilessly now, with barely any pause or respite, and she was barely holding on every time, fighting her body, her deep primal instinct to bear down against the baby in her canal. Every time Mari anchored her, caressing her hard belly, urging her gently, just hang on a little while longer. The last contraction left Noemi senseless with pain and need, foggy-headed. Her legs were permanently spread now, stance ridiculously wide.

“Oh, dear…” she breathed, and Mari followed her gaze to her front. Two wet spots had formed in her bikini top, nipples standing straight through the fabric.

“Ms. Noemi,” Mari said, summoning her courage. She looked Noemi in the eye. “Let me help you.”

Noemi let herself be led to the restrooms again, barely able to put one foot in front of the other, everything about her so full and aching.

“You don’t need to come in with me,” she said. “I can, ah, expel the milk on my own.”

“Don’t worry, Ms. Noemi,” Mari said. “I promised I’d take care of you.”

Noemi was blushing hard now, appearing almost drunk in her labored state. She allowed Mari to sit her down on the toilet. Mari gently teased the white bikini top from her breasts, and Noemi shivered, curling her toes at just the light brush of fabric against her sensitive nipples. Her dark areolas spread over her breasts, and around them blue veins ran through soft, tan skin. Her nipples jutted stiffly, heavy and laden, beaded at the tips with milk.

Mari set the flat of her hand against one and marveled as more milk beaded at the surface and then began to drip down the swell of Noemi’s breast and onto the long shelf of her belly. Noemi hissed, a sharp intake of air.

“Okay?”

Noemi nodded, unable to speak. Keep going.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this,” Mari said. She sat on Noemi’s lap and clamped her mouth around her nipple, cupping her other breast in her hand. Milk spurted from both breasts in tiny forceful streams. Noemi clapped a hand over her mouth to contain a sharp noise of pleasure and release, her back arching, other hand raised, opening and closing in the air. Mari suckled, feeling Noemi squirm under her, and lowered her free hand between her own legs, strumming her clit. Suddenly Noemi’s belly went hard again and she threw back her head to moan loudly, and Mari couldn’t tell whether from ecstasy or agony or a thrilling mixture of both.

“Oh, oh—Mari, please don’t—don’t stop. Fuck.”

Mari continued to suckle and the hand groping Noemi’s breast slid to her swell instead, tracing her linea nigra. There was no give to the surface, drum-tight, and Mari could feel Noemi’s belly seize violently, driving her baby down in a deep, involuntary push. Noemi’s moan lowered, guttural with sudden pushing, and Mari instantly took her lips away from Noemi’s breast. The milk stream diminished to dribble, her breasts not even close to being drained. Noemi squirmed at the sudden lapse.

“No pushing, remember?” Mari had settled well into a dominant role, playing out her ultimate fantasy, Noemi utterly receptive, responding to her every demand.

She breathed, slowly, and her hard belly relaxed somewhat.

“Good,” Mari said.

Noemi shuddered. “Yes, just—please. Continue.”

Mari smiled and said something she’d always wanted to say to Noemi: “Good girl.” The faint marks in the corners of her mouth, the maturity in her maternal hips, the refined elegance of her fingers—it was all subversive.

“I’ve never—never been called that by anyone,” Noemi panted. “Especially not someone no twenty years my junior.”

Mari bent her head again and Noemi’s lips tightened in preparation. She latched back onto her nipple, milk gushing into her mouth, and began to thumb Noemi’s stony pointed navel, her entire belly an erogenous zone at this point, her navel the sensory peak. Noemi nearly shrieked, delirious, and beneath her thighs Mari felt her hips bucking, building not only toward delivery now, but a climax. Mari continued to masturbate herself furiously, working her mouth at the same time, sinking her teeth lightly into Noemi’s breast, just enough to leave light, red marks. Noemi’s thighs began to quake with tremors and Mari’s pussy squeezed tight, clit bared—she gasped against Noemi’s soft chest at the same time that Noemi’s lips parted in a perfect O. Then they both trembled through watery orgasms.

Noemi looked at her with glassy eyes, hazy. She leaned in, lips soft and open and receptive for a kiss—then stopped, delicate features twisting into a grimace, and released a thunderous groan, lifting her bottom off the toilet seat with the force of her pushing. Her eyes went wide. Mari could tell something had changed. She was feeling something, deep inside of herself.

She tried to articulate the sensation. “Guh—the baby, it’s—mmmm, it’s right between—the baby’s in my vagina!”

Mari looked at her. She was desperate, out of control, her face flushed and beaded with sweat, moist short hair clinging to her forehead. Her contracting belly, lower than ever.

Mari leaned forward and rammed a kiss onto her lips, and made her taste her own milk.

Part Three

Mari rose from Noemi’s lap. Her tortured spasming belly hung so low at this point that even when she raised herself from the toilet seat Mari still couldn’t see her pussy, just the creases where her extreme underbelly sank into the flesh of her hips, and the tiny white string of her bikini bottom wrapping them, dragged by the heavy downward sag. Noemi was already trying to push again, nothing else in her mind except the baby now coming out of her. Legs planted wide, firmly squatted. It didn’t seem like she could even straighten up at this point, so heavy and low with the head. She grunted loudly, frantic in her efforts to pull her bikini bottom down her thighs and alleviate the immense pressure in her bottom. Sweat poured from her slick skin. She was obviously in the final stages of labor, and like she had been twenty-one years ago, she was consumed by the need to birth her baby.

Mari stood, watching in the sticky panties she’d just masturbated herself hard in, pussy still convulsing. She could see the light red teeth marks ringing Noemi’s areola. She had marked her. Noemi was hers. And yet, she wasn’t paying any mind to the girl who had suckled her to orgasm. Her only focus was pushing her baby out into her bikini, and once she did that she would become a mother again. Mari felt insecure, possessive. Would things return to the way they had been before? Noemi never noticing her, never giving her the attention she had craved. Suddenly, Mari reached for Noemi’s fingers at the hem of her bikini.

“Ms. Noemi.” Her voice was a firm reprimand. “I thought you wanted me to help you. I can’t help you if you push your baby out right now.”

Noemi could barely talk at this point. “Have—to—PUSH.” Mari still felt that awe, seeing such an articulate, modest woman reduced to animalistic instinct. She groaned, bearing down more, and her groan tightened as the baby was driven deeper into her bottom.

Mari circled her, tracing her fingers lightly from Noemi’s contraction-wracked torpedo belly to her curving bent back. Standing behind her now, she took Noemi’s delicate wrists in her hands and moved them away from the bikini bottom. Then she bent to see Noemi’s squatted thighs and bottom, and between her cheeks the wetted white bikini was beginning to tent outward. Mari gently rolled the bikini down to Noemi’s widespread knees. The pregnancy pussy she had just seen hours ago was now unrecognizably swollen and bulged with a startlingly huge head, yet her lips had barely parted. Mari wasn’t even sure if Noemi could birth something so big. Between Noemi’s thighs she could see her brown hanging belly harden again, the contractions now relentless, forcing Noemi into constant pushing.

As she watched, Noemi’s pussy bulged more and reddened. Her lips slowly began to part, distending—until Mari clapped her hand over the head. Noemi’s hot pussy strained against her palm, but Mari didn’t permit the head to progress any further. She heard Noemi’s strangled sob of frustration.

“It’s okay,” Mari cooed. “If you can’t hold it in, I can for you.”

Gently, she slipped the bikini bottom back up Noemi’s thighs and pulled it firmly over her hips, wedging the baby tight in her pussy. It yielded a little, but certainly not enough for Noemi to deliver the head. Noemi gasped at the feeling of the fabric against her sensitive, tender opening.

Mari then redid Noemi’s top, tying it in the back.

“There,” she appraised Noemi, trembling and gasping, filled completely with her baby. “I think you’re ready to go back out. People are probably getting suspicious of us.”

“Okay,” Noemi closed her eyes. “Just a little longer.”

“That’s it, Ms. Noemi!” Mari’s eyes lit up. “Hold it in for me.”

It was evening now. A lot of people had deserted, and those who stayed were trashed, too inebriated to notice Mari step out with Noemi in tow. They didn’t notice that Noemi only walked in a squatted position now, knees bent, legs far apart. They didn’t notice the sweat beading her forehead, or the flush of her cheeks. They didn’t notice her hanging belly, constantly constricting with contractions and hard unceasing pushes. And they certainly didn’t notice the conspicuous bulge straining her bikini bottom, dripping fluids from between her thighs.

Nobody assumed such a composed woman would be bent under the thumb of a girl twenty years younger than her, crowning into her bikini right there at the poolside.

Noemi staggered to a wicker pool chair, and slowly lowered herself with Mari’s help, only to yelp and cringe away when her bulged bottom made contact with the seat.

“Here—“ Mari said. “Try to sit back instead.”

Noemi sat with her back arched, legs open to the poolside, so that the head rested in her pussy without being crammed between her and the chair. She was already pushing, her knuckles white, gripping the arm rests so hard, Mari thought they might snap in her grasp. Her toes curled. Liquid pattered the deck beneath the chair, a puddle spreading under her. The head parted her more. She seemed unable to spread her legs wide enough, grunting and pushing and stretching. Even when she paused, it no longer slid back in, kept her lips taut and spread.

She pushed. The head no longer moved. The fabric trapped it snugly. She pushed again. Hard. Nothing. She pushed and pushed, caught in endless contractions and pushes. Mari heard her name panted, again and again, as she circled the head over the fabric with light fingers. Satisfaction stirred her.

Noemi was hers.

Finally, Noemi clambered heavily from her seat. She dropped into a deep squat on the deck and threw her head back, interrupting her silent pushes with a strained moan as she bore down once again, pained for leverage, obeying her instinctual need for a position change despite her unyielding clothes. Mari heard her joints pop; her forty-something body was at its limit.

It was time. They both sensed it.

Mari leaned in. Her breath shivered Noemi’s ear. “Are you ready, Noemi?” she whispered, forgoing the “Ms” title for the first time.

Noemi nodded. Once.

Mari paused. “Are you sure?”

Noemi nodded vigorously as she heaved with another push.

“Come on, then.”

The party was over. Nobody was left except for Noemi’s daughter, who had been laying passed out in a reclining chair since noon.

The pool water was cool on Mari’s skin as she waded down the steps. She discarded her bikini as she went, and the cold pricked up her bare nipples. Noemi breathed a deep sigh as she waded in herself. The water enveloped her thighs, her heavy submerging belly, and finally her splayed breasts as she sank. Mari swam up behind her and hugged her around the circumference of her gravid belly. She pressed herself to the curve of Noemi’s back, naked skin touching as they drifted for a second. Only a second, though. Soon it was over and Noemi was placing her head back, into Mari’s shoulder, and pushing. Mari’s hands traveled to Noemi’s bikini bottom and—

“Push for me,” she breathed, and pulled it down.

Noemi shouted loudly and groaned her baby into Mari’s hand. Her vaginal lips stretched, forming an angry fervent oval around the massive head. She groaned, forceful in her efforts. Her thighs gaped open in the water. Her pussy was a slick, round, red circle now, straining and slipping around the head. Her groans were almost inhuman, overwhelmed with need and desire and basic instinct. Mari felt the head inch out with Noemi’s powerful pushes, and admired its size and width. This was coming from Noemi, coming through her, creaking her aged bones and spreading her in a way she hadn’t been since her youth.

Her belly raised and then dropped with a final push, the drawn muscles of her uterus convulsing, and she shrieked. The head reached its widest point. Eyes, nose, ears, she opened around each feature. For a moment her lips whitened, pale around the head. Then a pop, a burst, a release. Noemi shuddered. Her legs jerked in the water and opaque amniotic fluids spilled from her.

“Uggghhh.”

“You did it,” Mari said. She marveled at Noemi’s motherly drive as she caressed the head hanging from Noemi’s pussy. “Just the shoulders now.”

“Ohhhh,” Noemi brought her hand between her legs, holding Mari’s as they both cupped the head. “My baby,” she panted. “My baby….”

“Let’s meet her together,” Mari whispered.

Noemi arched in the pool, belly and breasts and upturned nipples raising above the water. With a sweet, quiet groan, she gave birth into Mari’s waiting hands.

Noemi sat beside the pool on the reclining chair, her stomach sagging in her lap, ruined by a dark linea nigra. Her short hair plastered her forehead. Her attention was on the baby suckling at her milky breast. She looked up when Mari trotted to her with spare towels, and smiled tiredly.

Mari leaned down and wrapped her in the towel, and kissed her on the cheek.

“So,” Noemi said. “How do we tell my other daughter?”

#fpreg #clothing birth #birth denial #breast milk #labor kink #birth kink #pregnant kink #fxf smut #dom/sub dynamics

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krazyyyyyy · 5 months ago

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Forever Longing Solivan Brugmansia /Reader

Synopsis: A small glimpse into Sol's elementary life, where he abruptly meets the single most important person in his life...You

Warnings: Mentions of violence

Words: 2553

Notes: Don't know how many more of these I'll write, but I'm hoping to get around three more done if not a few more.

Hope you enjoy this short story <3

Children’s happy laughter echoed loudly throughout the playground, as they began to spill out of the school building; marking the beginning of their cherished recess time. Kids ran freely playing around with friends, swinging giddily on the swing sets, and continuously going up and down the slide.

Well, all the kids but one…

A young, small, and quiet Solivan stood far away from the other kids, staring at the ground at his feet, avoiding any eye contact with anybody within the area. He knew he didn’t fit in with the others, given his introverted nature, he was considered an outcast amongst his classmates. People tended to overlook him, barely acknowledging his presence even when they were standing right next to him.

He was used to it, though…. He had his drawing supplies and stuffed animals, the only things that really made him feel anything close to happiness. The stuffed animals would never judge him, and, they’d always be around to listen to him when he needed it, an idiosyncratic concept to him growing up in a loveless household.

A soft tap on his shoulder causes him to lift his amber gaze from the ground and into the familiar brown orbs of his teacher, Mrs. Baker. A woman with a skinny frame and curly auburn hair that just slightly exceeded her shoulders. It took everything within him not to scoff at her arrival. She was keen on pushing him towards being more sociable with the other kids, a goal that would always fail in his favor. So why couldn’t she just leave him alone?

She crouched down to his height and spoke to him in her usual soft and steady voice, “Solivan, Why don’t you play with the others today? It seems they're playing a little game of freeze tag, doesn’t that sound like fun?”

Solivan spared a short glance toward where the kids were running wildly at each other, while some others stayed frozen in place, showing signs of annoyance at being frozen; he retracted his gaze back to the ground shaking his head, mumbling a small “No”

Mrs. Baker smiled understandingly at the timid young boy before her, “I know it might seem scary, but give it a chance, you might like it more than you think.” She attempted one last time to try to convince the boy to open up, even if it was just a little.

The boy remained silent, having lost interest in the conversation completely and hoping that his teacher would simply give up and leave him alone for the rest of the recess period.

Thankfully, it seemed fate was on his side, as he heard his teacher sigh next to him before standing up and walking away to a different part of the playground to supervise a group of rather exuberant children. Leaving him alone at last.

The little raven-haired boy sat on the ground, back pressed against the steel fence that separated the playground from the busy streets that lay not far behind. Settling down, Sol pulled out a small sketchpad from his back pocket; a notebook that was filled page to page in his numerous doodles, which he usually did during class time to pass the time.

Pulling out a pencil, Sol began to doodle, head buried in the notebook; heavily embarked on the mini sketches that required his utmost attention. After a while, he finally cranes his head back to admire his work; his sketch was that of a small horse with a small sketched figure of him seated cheerfully on its back.

He beamed at the drawing, proud of his work. While marveling at the sketch, the notepad is quickly ripped from his grasp. Startled and confused, Sol snaps his head up to look at the culprits. Standing above him, were three kids, obviously much older than he was, possibly four grades above him.

Sol was quick to spring up to his feet to try to get the notebook back, but to no avail, as the blond boy who held the item towered over him. He held the sketchbook high above his head, so even if the little boy tried to jump for it, it would prove pointless in the end

“Give it back!” Sol shouted at the kids as he continued to try to reach for what he considered to be one of his only sources of comfort. All three of the boys laughed at him, “Aww, is the little weirdo gonna cry.” a boy with red hair teased, pointing at him.

“You drew yourself riding a horse? What are you, some kind of girl?” The blond boy jokingly flipped through the pages of the book, briefly observing its contents.

“Stop it!” When Sol tried to reach for his sketchbook once again, the blond boy laughed, before tossing the book over to another boy; then that boy proceeded to also flip through the book and laugh before also tossing it to the next boy. Sol found himself playing in this miserable game of monkey in the middle; a game where he could only watch as his book flew through the air above him, out of reach, with no hopes of ever reaching it.

Eventually, Sol got the courage to defend himself from these bullies, and with all the strength he could muster with his tiny form, he tried to shove the bully who had the sketchbook in his possession. But, the shove proved unhelpful, as the bully didn’t even move an inch.

Sol could barely catch his breath before he was harshly shoved to the ground. A sharp pain pulsed through his body as his back was met with the hard ground; Sol opened his eyes to notice that his sketchbook had fallen next to his body, the bully had more than likely dropped it in outrage at Sol’s sudden rebuke. Sol swiftly snatched the book off the ground and held it close to his chest, shielding it from the bullies.

Sol lay on the ground in a fetal position, with his back facing his bullies, arms still tightly wrapped around his sketchbook. There was a sudden sharp pain on his side as a bully directed a fierce kick toward the young boy; another boy directed a kick, of similar intensity, toward his other side, leaving the little boy only to whimper in pain.

The group of bullies continued to relentlessly kick the defenseless boy, not showing any hint of mercy toward him. Tears ran down Sol’s cheeks as he could only endure the endless kicks that the bullies threw at him. He closed his eyes and hoped the boys would soon grow bored with this and walk away, or maybe a teacher would notice this assault and interfere.

It felt like an eternity that the kicking would continue, he almost thought it would never end…

Until a loud voice rang out and suddenly the kick stopped.

“Hey! Leave him alone!” Sol heard the unknown voice shout at the group of boys. He peeked from his position to glance at where the shouting came from; upon opening his eyes, he was met with his saviors back facing him as they spread their arms out wide to shield him away from the sight of the bullies.

“Get outta the way Pipsqueak! Or you're gonna be next!” He heard one of the bullies shout at the person before him. Sol noticed the stranger's visible shakiness as they stayed rooted in their spot in front of him; they were just as scared of these bullies as he was, yet they still chose to throw themselves in the middle just to protect him. He felt a surge of admiration for the stranger; this had been the first and only time someone stood up for him… his heart couldn’t help but skip a beat.

“No! I-I won't l-let you!” The stranger's words came out shuddered and breathy as if they were holding back tears. Luckily, their voice had been loud enough to possibly draw the attention of others nearby.

The twisted grins on the bullies' faces faded at the realization, and they looked around the area to see if anyone had caught the drift of what was happening.

“Shit!” Was the last thing Sol heard from them, followed by the frantic pattering of feet in the grass as the bullies quickly fled the scene. Leaving behind two frightened kids as a result.

Sol, who was still lying on the ground, breathed heavily, the fear coursing through his veins still running wild. He flinched when a blurry object suddenly came into his vision. As his vision slowly cleared, he noticed that the object was the outstretched hand of his savior; they looked down at him with a concerned expression, tears still lingering in the corner of their eyes.

Hesitantly, Sol took the hand, which helped pull him to his feet. He stumbled a bit but managed to regain his balance with a bit of effort and help from the person next to him.

“Are you okay?” The stranger asked him, their voice a bit hoarse from all the yelling yet still holding a subtle gentleness to it. Sol looked at them for a second, before shyly shifting his gaze off somewhere else and slightly nodding his head.

They smiled, their gaze landing on the item that Sol continued to hold tightly to his chest. “What’s that?” They pointed out the sketchbook, which, unknowingly to them, had caused the whole ruckus that just happened moments ago.

“... It’s my sketchbook,” Sol murmured under his breath, keeping his gaze away from the person in front of him. He never did well talking to people, never mind kids his age, this person wouldn’t be any different.

Their eyes lit up as he spoke, “You draw?! I wanna see it! Can I see pretty, please?!”

Sol was taken aback by their sudden interest in his sketchbook, his eyes were blown wide at them; he had never shown anyone his work before, nor had anyone ever asked to see it… this person was achieving a lot of firsts for him. He supposed he could show them, considering they had just saved him from a harsh beating.

“Umm… Okay.” Sol pulled the sketchbook from where it rested on his chest to hold it out between him and the stranger. He slowly navigated through the pages, properly allowing the person next to him to take in each piece of art. They were a bundle of excitement, commenting excitedly on almost every single little doodle in the book; it brought a small smile to Sol’s face, knowing that someone enjoyed his drawings just as much as he did.

“These are so good! You're so talented! Do you think maybe you can draw me something?” Sol felt his cheeks flush with an odd, unfamiliar warmth. They wanted him to draw something for them. Him? Out of all the people they could have asked? They wanted him to draw for them…

He fidgeted with the pages of the notebook in his hands, keeping his eyes glued to the ground, nervously. “Sure–”

“Wait! Before I forget, my name is Y/N!” They cheerfully cut him off, “What’s yours?” They talked a million words per second, which was a bit overwhelming, but Sol still found himself intrigued by them.

“My name is Solivan…” He spoke quietly, but loud enough for their newfound acquaintance to hear. “Solivan?” They tested his name out, “Well, Solivan from this day forward you are now my friend!” Sol stared at them dumbfounded. He never had a friend before, but didn’t think it would ever be this simple, yet here he was.

He didn’t get a chance to respond to their declaration when they continued to speak, “I’m thinking maybe a butterfly–No wait! A gecko… no…” They continued to list through a variety of animals, as Sol would stand and watch them in awe. He didn’t know what it was, but he felt some sort of connection to his new friend, it wasn’t unwelcome, but it was still strange.

“Oh, I got it! How about a dove? Mom says those are her favorite!”

Sol raises an eyebrow at them.“Like the bird? Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” They cheer.

Sol only nods his head in response, but a smile remains on his face at their jubilation. He sees the opportunity to speak after your moment of triumph and takes it, “I-um… thank you… for helping me. Not many would’ve done the same.”

They shake their head at him with a smile,“ Don’t mention it. You needed help…so I helped!”, the sincerity in their tone set Sol at ease. He wondered if had truly been missing out. If other kids acted just like Y/N, then maybe talking to others wouldn’t be so bad.

A mature voice suddenly rang out through the playground, catching everyone's attention, “Kids, recess is over! Start lining up with your class!”

“Aww man!” The child next to Sol groans, “Just when we were having fun, too!”. If their definition of fun was getting nearly trampled by a couple of older students, then Sol supposes he had the time of his life… Not really, though, but meeting Y/N was a nice surprise.

Children from all around the playground started to depart, moving to their designated class lines. Y/N started to make their way toward their line before they stopped to turn around to look at Sol one more time. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Solivan! Can’t wait to see the drawing!” And with that, the energetic second-grader gave him one last wave before running over to their class.

Sol gave them a little wave in return, watching as their figure got further and further away. It wasn’t long before he himself started making his way toward his own class, to continue the rest of his day. Of course, his attention wasn’t drawn toward that of his classwork, but rather that of the little dove drawing he spent the rest of the day drawing for that special someone he met.

Sol paid no mind as his art teacher rambled on and on about the importance of elements in art; his focus mainly on the small, worn-out sketch pad that lay open on his desk. He lazily drew his fingers along the delicate pencil marks of his old drawing from way back then.

Out of the drawings he had created during his entire childhood, that little dove that he drew for you in the second grade always held a special place in his heart. He remembers how bright your face lit up when he showed it to you the very next day; you insisted that he kept it in his sketchbook, under the circumstance that you get to view it anytime you want–which you would do on the daily.

He shifted his gaze from the paper to where you sat near the front of the classroom, trying your best not to fall asleep during the lecture. His heart ached for you to look at him the way you did when you were kids, now it was like he was a total stranger to you; another student who simply attended the same art class as you.

But with time, you’d eventually grow aware of his existence, you’d have too.

After all, you were his soulmate, just as he was yours.

#solivan brugmansia #tkatb sol #tkatb #tkatb vn #the kid at the back #tkatb x reader #katb vn #im tired

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edenesth · 3 months ago

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TWTHH Spinoff: Until I Found You [1]

Pairing: prince!Yeosang x princess!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 6.8k

Summary: It had been a while since Lady Park's firm rejection, and the fourth prince was beginning to believe he would never get over her. Though the heartbreak had made him more mature, one thing remained unchanged: his stubborn reluctance to marry. Convinced he would never find someone who could understand his pain as deeply as the general's wife, he was unprepared for the surprise life had in store for him—one that came in the form of a foreign princess.

A/N: As stated in the title, this is a spinoff. If you have yet to check out the main story, it's probably better to read that before starting this.

Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist | Part 2

"A peace treaty with Joseon? What do you think Father is going to offer them?" you wondered aloud, staring at your reflection in the ornate gold mirror as your mother gently combed your hair.

She sighed, her face filled with dread. "What else do you think, my dear? Another daughter, obviously. Lord have mercy on whichever poor soul has to be sacrificed."

Your fists clenched involuntarily, clutching the fabric of your robes at the thought. You couldn't imagine the horror: what if it was you? To be torn from your family, everyone you loved, everything you knew, and sent off to a foreign land to marry a complete stranger and live the rest of your life in isolation. "Mother, this is cruelty."

"This is reality, sweetheart."

You winced at her words. She was right, and you hated it. The mere thought of being separated from your mother, Royal Concubine Sarisu of Ruhon, was beyond unbearable. You were all she had, and she was everything to you.

Reaching for her hands, you squeezed them and smiled sadly up at her. Once, she had been the most favoured concubine, steadily climbing the ranks, poised to take the spot beside the then-empty throne. But then the current Her Majesty arrived. With her strong family ties and influential background, she immediately stole away all your mother's chances of ever becoming Queen.

But that wasn't all she stole.

She took everything, including all your father's affections, leaving him with no room for your mother or you. Since then, the two of you had been reduced to mere decorations in the grand palace of Ruhon, often labelled the rejects of His Majesty. You were invisible to him, merely waiting for the end of your days to come.

Neither of you were fools; you knew what people said about you both. But it didn't matter. You were grateful not to be starving on the streets and to still have a roof over your heads, even if it was nowhere near as luxurious as the Queen and her children's chambers. No matter how much favour your mother had lost, at least the King was still kind enough to let you both keep your titles and everything else.

Or was he really?

Perhaps you shouldn't have spoken about it. Now, you had jinxed it. You should have known, should have realised why he had kept you around. You had your own uses and were finally coming in handy now. The realisation struck when a eunuch rushed into your chambers, which was an unusual occurrence, bowing lightly—nothing like the deep bows usually reserved for other royals.

"Princess Sarisu, you have been summoned by His Majesty the King and are expected in the throne room this instant," he announced, gesturing towards the exit. "Please allow me to escort you there."

He let out a small, impatient huff when you remained frozen in your spot, exchanging horrified looks with your mother. "Come now, Your Highness. We mustn't upset His Majesty any further."

She cleared her throat, nodding encouragingly despite her trembling hands. "Go on, my dear. I'm sure it's nothing, hm? Maybe your father simply wishes to catch up." Not wanting her to worry, you forced a smile. "Yes, Mother. You're probably right."

You weren't sure who you were trying to convince with those foolish white lies, but a part of you clung to the hope that was all it was. With that, you followed the eunuch towards the throne room.

The palace corridors seemed colder, the shadows darker, as you walked. Each step echoed ominously, amplifying the anxiety churning in your stomach. You could feel the eyes of courtiers and servants on you, their whispers adding to the tension.

Finally, you reached the grand doors of the throne room. They loomed before you, heavy and imposing. The eunuch pushed them open, revealing the vast chamber within. At the far end, on the elevated throne, sat your father, the King. His expression was stern, his gaze piercing as it settled on you.

"Approach," he commanded, his voice resonating through the hall.

You walked forward, your heart pounding in your chest. As you neared the throne, you dropped to your knees, bowing deeply. "This princess greets Your Majesty," you greeted, your voice trembling despite your efforts to remain composed.

Your father studied you for a moment before speaking, "I hope you have been well, princess. I will not bother beating around the bush; you are at the perfect age for marriage, and it is time you fulfil your duty. The peace treaty with Joseon has been finalised. It has been decided that you are to be sent as part of the agreement. We leave in a week to celebrate your future union with Ninth Prince Yeochan."

The words struck you like a blow. Your worst fears had come true. You were to be sacrificed for the sake of the kingdom, sent away to a foreign land to marry a stranger. Your mind raced, struggling to process the reality of your fate.

Oh god, it's really happening... to me.

"Father, please..." you began, but he raised a hand, silencing you.

"Look at me, princess. This is not a question, it's an order," he commanded, his gaze steely and unyielding despite your tear-filled eyes. You were bewildered; you were merely the daughter of a concubine. It was usually only princesses born from the Queen who had to marry for the nation's sake.

"But Father—" you fell to your knees, prepared to beg for mercy.

He snarled, "No buts! Your sisters are too young for this. Her Majesty and I have deliberated long and hard. You're the only one fit for the task. You'll do well to make your mother proud. I know you're upset about leaving her behind, but you're a princess, and you know what that means. Your sacrifice will save Ruhon…"

Yes, from your reckless decisions.

If only he hadn't rashly launched a sudden attack on Joseon, none of this would have happened. Peace would have prevailed, and you wouldn't have to be offered as a pawn in the war he instigated. You weren't stupid; he was giving you up because this was a deal with the enemy. The Queen's daughters were too precious to be sent away.

"Oh, come now, my daughter. Just be grateful you aren't marrying the dreadful fourth prince of Joseon. I'm sure their ruler still has some conscience. You'll be fine."

Easy for you to say, Father...

One week. That was all the time you were given to come to terms with your fate—to be the chosen pawn sent to Joseon, to spend these final days with your mother before departing forever. Reality wasn't cruel; your father was. You had never harboured such profound hatred for him as you did now. Oh, your poor mother. How would she endure the emptiness of the palace alone? Your heart ached with the mere thought of her grieving in the cold confines of your shared chambers, her life overshadowed by your absence.

Though you faced a grim future, perhaps far worse than hers, all you could think about was the one person who meant everything to you—the one who had brought you into this world, nurtured you, protected you, and showered you with endless love. And now, you were leaving her behind forever.

The days blurred together in a haze of sorrow and apprehension. You clung to your mother, finding solace in shared memories and whispered reassurances. The palace, once your sanctuary, now felt like a gaol, each room a reminder of the departure that loomed ahead.

On the final night, she held you tightly, her voice trembling with unshed tears. "You are strong, my dear. Remember that. No matter what happens, hold on to who you are. Go and make us all proud."

You nodded, tears mingling with hers. "I will, Mother. I promise. Don't worry about me and take good care of yourself."

The next morning arrived far too soon. As you prepared to leave, you took a last, lingering look around your chamber, memorising every detail. Then, with a heavy heart, you followed the royal guard sent to escort you. Walking through the palace corridors for the final time, the weight of your destiny pressed heavily upon you.

At last, you reached the courtyard where the grand carriage awaited. Your father stood beside it, his face a mask of indifference. He offered no words as you approached, only a curt nod. "Come, let us go."

With one final, sorrowful glance at your mother, you climbed into the carriage. As it began to move, you watched her silhouette grow smaller and smaller until she was nothing more than a distant memory.

Thus, you set off towards an uncertain future, your heart heavy with grief and dread, knowing you were leaving behind everything you had ever known and loved.

Goodbye, Ruhon... goodbye, Mother.

"Your Highness, how should we announce you at the banquet?" the King of Joseon asked, smiling warmly down at you.

Your father straightened up proudly beside you, about to answer on your behalf, but you quickly bowed. "Please announce me as Princess Sarisu, Your Majesty, as I have always been known in Ruhon."

The Joseon ruler's eyes widened slightly at the realisation. "Ah, so this is the famous Royal Concubine Sarisu's only daughter. That explains your exceptional beauty. And here, we assumed a princess from Her Majesty of Ruhon would be offered to us." It was a subtle jab at your father, who had thought he could deceive the court by presenting you as a Crown Princess.

Your father's smile was steely, masking the fury that boiled inside him. He trembled with anger at your betrayal—exposing your true identity by using your mother's name, despite his stern reminder that you were to pose as one of the Queen's daughters.

Call it your little revenge if you will.

"No matter, Father. I consider myself fortunate to be matched with such a beauty. After all, I, too, am a son of a concubine. We are quite the match," said Prince Yeochan, your betrothed, as he bowed respectfully to his father and yours. His words might charm most, but you doubted their sincerity. Living in a palace, you had seen your share of false pleasantries and performative kindness.

The King of Joseon nodded approvingly. "As you should be, Ninth Prince. I expect you to treat your future wife well. Now let us adults discuss the wedding plans. You may show your fiancée to her temporary quarters."

"Yes, Father," the young prince responded, then approached you, offering his arm. "Come, my princess."

Despite the grandeur of your reception, it was clear that the welcome was more for show than genuine warmth. This became evident when you arrived at your assigned quarters, a small and secluded part of the palace, far from the bustling main areas where the rest of the royal family and court members congregated.

"Thank you, Your Highness, for showing me here," you said politely.

At that moment, the facade of the dutiful son vanished. Yeochan smirked humourlessly. "Save it. It doesn't matter if you're the daughter of a concubine or the Queen; you're still Ruhon scum to me. Don't think that just because you're here showing me your faux politeness, you can fool me. I don't trust you, princess," he spat.

You sighed, your shoulders slumping. There it was, his true nature revealed. Not that you hadn't anticipated this. Given the history between your nations, it was inevitable. You were the princess from the country that had dared to attack his own, a symbol of betrayal and defeat, delivered to their doorstep after your father's cowardly surrender. You could have argued, defended yourself, but it was clear there was no point. His hatred was deep-rooted and unwavering.

The ninth prince huffed at your silence. "I'll make this clear: you will do well to cooperate and play the perfect couple with me in public. But do not expect anything when we're alone. You are nothing more than a political pawn in this game. Remember that."

You met his gaze, your own eyes steady and resolute. "I understand, Your Highness. I will fulfil my duty as expected."

He sneered, turning on his heel and leaving you alone in your sparse quarters. As the door closed behind him, the reality of your situation settled over you like a heavy shroud. The grandeur of the palace felt hollow, a gilded cage in which you were now imprisoned.

Tears threatened to spill, but you blinked them back, refusing to succumb to despair. You had to be strong, for your mother, for yourself. No matter how cold and unwelcoming this place was, you would endure. You had no other choice.

I'll be fine, Mother... I'll live.

The rest of the day had been spent wandering aimlessly within your quarters. The thought of dining with your father was unbearable; after the stunt you had pulled earlier, you dreaded to think what he might say or do. So, you remained secluded in your room, staring at the miserable meal the palace maids had brought you.

Their reluctance to serve you had been apparent. A few bolder ones had whispered about you not so discreetly, their words cutting through the fragile composure you were trying to maintain. Feeling the tension and disdain in the air, you had dismissed them, preferring solitude over their barely concealed contempt.

Staring at the plain bowl of rice and a few meagre side dishes, your appetite vanished. You knew enough about Joseon to recognise that this meal was far from a luxury. It was a clear message: you were not welcome here, not valued, not respected.

Heaving a deep sigh, you thought of your poor mother. How was she coping with your absence? Was she as lonely and lost as you felt in this foreign place? The ache of missing her was a constant, gnawing pain, a reminder of everything you had been forced to leave behind.

As night fell, the shadows in your room grew longer, mirroring the gloom that settled over your heart. The palace, with all its splendour, felt like a prison. The heavy silence pressed down on you, amplifying the sense of isolation. You were a stranger in an enemy land, alone and uncertain of the future.

But you knew you had to endure.

For your mother, for your people, and most importantly, for yourself. No matter how bleak the present seemed, you clung to a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, in time, you would find a way to navigate this treacherous path and carve out a place for yourself in this unforgiving world. Until then, all you could do was survive, one day at a time.

You had gone to bed with a heavy heart, fully aware that this was now your reality, and nothing could change it. A part of you was determined to make the best of your situation despite the hostility you faced. Perhaps it was the adrenaline and emotional exhaustion from the day that allowed you to fall asleep without much trouble on your first night in this foreign land.

The following morning, you were awakened by the same group of maids assigned to you. They were there to bathe and dress you, and knowing you had no choice but to comply, you obediently allowed them to do as they pleased. You endured every harsh tug and rough handling without a single complaint as they prepared you for the day.

"Thank you, you may go," you said, dismissing the group of maids as soon as they had finished their task. Sitting in front of the mirror, you took in your new appearance. It was a sobering reminder that you were about to be a princess of Joseon. The foreign hanbok and hairdo, though simpler and less dramatic than Ruhon's style, were beautiful in their own right.

You reached a hand behind to stroke the single gold hairpin tucked into the neat low bun on your head, then moved down to touch the smooth lavender fabric now adorning your body. "Hmm, not bad at all," you murmured to yourself.

Despite the simplicity, there was a quiet elegance to the attire. The colours were soft and soothing, a stark contrast to the vibrant and intricate garments you were accustomed to. You could see yourself getting used to these outfits. This was your new reality, and you were determined to find beauty and strength in it, no matter how challenging the circumstances.

With a deep breath, you rose from your seat and steeled yourself for the day ahead. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you resolved to face whatever came your way with grace and resilience. Knowing that no one, especially not your fiancé, would show you around the palace grounds, you resolved to explore the place on your own. With the banquet scheduled for the next night, you had this day to yourself. What better way to spend it than embarking on a little adventure?

Finally free from the pressure and the sensation of walking on eggshells, you wandered the palace grounds with awe. The buildings and their architecture were new and different, capturing your attention at every turn. You nodded politely at any passing palace staff who, despite their reluctance or displeasure, still greeted you with courtesy. Your attire signified your status, and rules were rules; they couldn't possibly ignore you in broad daylight.

Amid your exploration, you stumbled upon what seemed to be a tranquil cherry blossom garden. Though the flowers were not in bloom, you could imagine how breathtaking this place would be in the right season. You made a mental note to return when the cherry blossoms were in full glory.

Deciding to take a walk inside, you were unprepared for the sight that greeted you. In one of the many pavilions, diligently practising calligraphy, was a figure that resembled a celestial being. The scene was almost ethereal: the serene garden, the elegant strokes of the brush, the calm concentration on the person's face.

Could he be a scholar...?

Your breath caught in your throat. The figure was dressed in simple yet refined garments. The rhythmic movements of the brush were mesmerising, each stroke deliberate and graceful. You couldn't help but feel as though you were intruding upon a sacred moment. But you couldn't turn away as you moved closer, recognising the poem being written.

"Is that Hwaseoljedeungnubu by Shin Sukju?" you asked softly.

At your question, the person's head whipped up. It took him a moment to respond, but he did eventually. "Yes, it is."

You nodded in approval, a small smile on your lips, pleased that he had yet to frown or react negatively as most people had so far. "Nice penmanship, by the way."

He cleared his throat, slightly flustered. "Thank you."

To say that Yeosang was surprised would be the understatement of the century. Only the most highly educated individuals could recognise this series of poems exchanged between Joseon officials and Ming Dynasty envoys. He wouldn't have been surprised if even most low-ranking officials were not well-versed in this.

First of all, you were a woman, and most women, despite being educated, did not study these texts. Secondly, you were clearly not local; your accent gave that away. Were you perhaps a visiting guest here for the banquet celebrating the union with Ruhon?

But above all else, did you... not know who he was? Even if you didn't, most people turned away as soon as they spotted the dreadful red mark beside his left eye, which was not hard to miss.

When you bit your lip earnestly and stepped into the pavilion, asking, "Do you mind if I join you?" The fourth prince furrowed his brows and placed down his brush, lifting his head to look at you properly, giving you a clear view of his birthmark.

"Are you certain, my lady? Why would you want to sit with me?"

You blinked, confused by the question. "I-I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I don't understand—"

He sighed, pointing at the mark on his face. "Do you not see this?"

You nodded slowly, still lost. "Yes, and?"

His brows flew up at your nonchalant response, and he took a deep gulp. "What—are you not disgusted?"

You frowned. "That's a strong word, but... am I supposed to be? By what exactly?"

He finally gave in, taking a moment to process the fact that standing before him was someone who did not see anything wrong with him—the second person to do so after Lady Park. He motioned to the seat opposite him. "Please, have a seat."

You smiled gratefully and settled across from him. He waited for you to be seated before beginning his introduction. "I apologise for my unusual questions. I… I'm Yeosang, the Fourth Prince of Joseon."

He held his breath as your eyes widened in realisation, bracing himself for the rejection he was so accustomed to. But it didn't come. Instead, your lips formed a small pout as you observed him. "So, you're the famous Fourth Prince Yeosang… I don't get it."

He chuckled in bewilderment. "What don't you get, my lady?"

"Why do they call you dreadful? I've only been here for a day and a half, met a handful of people, and you're the first and only one to treat me with equal respect. Besides, you're… very attractive. I don't understand why they'd call you—" Your eyes landed on the birthmark. "Ah, so that's why…"

He nodded solemnly, trying not to show how much it affected him. "Yes, all because of this one stupid mark."

You pursed your lips. "Well, if it's worth anything, I think you're beautiful. People can be cruel for no reason. Trust me, I know."

For the first time in forever, the fourth prince broke into a genuine grin. "Thank you, I… I think you're beautiful too."

You grew shy at that, and wanting to break the ice, Yeosang picked up his brush, handing it to you. "Now, you must tell me how you know about Shin Sukju and his poems. Also, which is your favourite?"

For the remainder of the afternoon, he refrained from asking about your identity, and you were grateful for it. You feared he might distance himself if he learned of your betrothal to his brother, and the thought unsettled you. After all, finding a genuine friend was rare and precious, and you wished to cherish this fleeting moment of sincerity. You knew that by the next day, at the banquet, everyone, including Yeosang, would eventually discover who you truly were.

But you pushed that worry from your mind.

Just for now...

Your time together was cut short when the prince had classes to attend and could no longer stay. As he packed up his things and prepared to leave the pavilion, he turned to you. "Will you be at the banquet tomorrow?"

You swallowed and nodded, offering a small smile. "Yes, I'll be there."

His face lit up with a beaming smile. "Great! I’ll see you there, my lady."

You rose from your seat and bowed. "See you, Your Highness."

Once Yeosang had departed, you sank back into your seat, lost in contemplation. So this was the prince your father had told you you were fortunate not to be wed to? Of course, you knew that if you had been matched with him, he might not have been as courteous as he had been today. Before arriving in Joseon, you had heard nothing but unflattering remarks about him. He was rumoured to be a rebellious brat, the least appealing prince among his brothers.

Yet, meeting him in person, you found the reality strikingly different.

Sure, the rebellious reputation might have some truth, but people can change. As for the claim of his being unappealing, you couldn't fathom how a mere birthmark could diminish his allure. In your eyes, Yeosang was extraordinarily handsome, and the mark only seemed to enhance his unique charm.

Could it be that you were developing a small crush on your soon-to-be brother-in-law? Maybe so, but who could blame you? His kindness, coupled with his striking appearance, made it nearly impossible not to feel some affection. Perhaps it was this harmless little infatuation that provided a semblance of comfort and sanity amidst the turmoil of your new life.

You allowed yourself a small, wistful smile. For now, you would hold on to this tender feeling, as it was one of the few bright spots in the otherwise daunting reality you faced.

Heh, a silly little crush wouldn't hurt.

After the royal tutor had left, the fourth prince found himself alone in the library, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips as he gazed at the parchment before him. Your handwriting, delicate yet confident, adorned the page. He was thoroughly impressed by your breadth of knowledge, especially given that you were a foreigner. You had shared with him your passion for the liberal arts and how you had delved into them in your home library. It was refreshing to meet someone so genuinely curious and non-judgmental. You were a rare find in a world often quick to judge and dismiss.

His anticipation for the banquet grew, eager to continue your intellectual exchange and perhaps learn even more from you. This fleeting joy, however, was interrupted by a familiar voice.

"You seem to be in high spirits, my prince. Could it be because of the banquet? You've heard the news, haven't you?" Royal Secretary Choi's voice interrupted his thoughts. As he looked up, his smile faltered slightly upon meeting the secretary's inquisitive gaze.

"Heard? About what?" Yeosang inquired, his brows knitting together.

"Wait… you haven't? General and Lady Park will be attending. Last time we spoke, you mentioned wanting to see her, didn't you?" San replied, his tone laced with curiosity.

The mention of Lady Park swiftly altered his mood. Thoughts of your newfound friendship evaporated, overshadowed by the grim realisation. Although he had reconciled with the fact that she would never be his, the prospect of seeing her again—now pregnant and with her husband—was a painful reminder of his loss. The thought of facing them, of witnessing their happiness, stirred a deep unease within him. Was he truly prepared for this?

"I see. Thank you for the information, Secretary Choi. I'll see you at the banquet tomorrow," Yeosang said, gathering his belongings and leaving for his chambers. He needed solitude to grapple with the revelation and to ready himself for the emotional challenge ahead.

"We'd like to extend our gratitude to all distinguished guests here today to celebrate the union between Joseon and Ruhon. May I present to you the match that will make all of this possible: our very own Ninth Prince Yeochan and the beautiful Princess Sarisu of Ruhon. Their Highnesses will be officially wed in a month. Now, let us all use this opportunity to congratulate the new couple on their impending marriage and wish them an eternity of happiness," the King of Joseon announced.

Oh. There she is.

Yeosang blinked. There you were, standing before the assembled guests. Indeed, you were present. And, of course, you were the Ruhon princess sacrificed for the peace treaty. The puzzle pieces began to fit together. That explained your knowledge and undeniable class—qualities far beyond those of any mere noblewoman. He supposed he shouldn't have been too surprised.

As if on cue, you turned and met his gaze. Your eyes widened slightly upon seeing him, your expression turning guilty. You opened your mouth, ready to mouth an apology, but before you had the chance, a tap on his shoulder quickly shifted his attention.

Likewise, your fiancé cleared his throat, sensing your distraction. He murmured in your ear, "Focus, princess. Don't you dare embarrass me." You blinked and nodded. While people on the outside might coo and assume the Ninth Prince was a loving fiancé, only you know the reality behind his facade.

"There you are, my prince!" the royal secretary called out. "The general and his wife are just over there," he informed, nodding toward the area where the couple could be seen. Seonghwa was deep in conversation with his handpicked military strategist, General Officer Song, while his wife was engaged in a chat with one of the royal physicians nearby.

Yeosang's breath hitched as soon as his eyes landed on the pregnant woman. In an instant, all thoughts of you and the revelation of your identity as the foreign princess meant to marry his brother vanished. All he could see and think about was the general's wife. It was the first time he had seen her since her wedding with General Park, and she looked… beautiful, as always. In fact, she seemed even more beautiful now, glowing with the radiance of motherhood.

Oh god, he realised he was still far from getting over her. Would he ever get over her? He didn't know, but for now, just for now, he needed to talk to her.

Taking a deep breath, he started toward her, his heart pounding with every step. As he approached, her laughter reached his ears, a sound that once brought him immense joy and now brought a bittersweet ache. It took her a moment to notice him, needing the royal physician she was speaking with to signal his presence. Her eyes widened in surprise when she turned to see him, starting to bow, but he stopped her before she could do so.

"It's been a while, my lady. Would you... care to catch up?" he asked.

She bit her lip, turning to meet her husband's warm gaze. The general nodded, indicating the decision was hers. Turning back to face the prince, she beamed. "Of course, Your Highness. Shall we talk over some snacks? Pregnancy cravings, you know," she joked, and he agreed, guiding her to the refreshments table.

"So, how have you been?" Yeosang asked, his voice laced with a mix of hope and sorrow.

"I've been well, thank you," she responded, her hand instinctively moving to rest on her belly. "And you? How have you been?"

He hesitated, searching for the right words. "I've been… managing. It's good to see you looking so well."

She smiled again, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "It's good to see you too, Your Highness. I heard you've been doing well with your studies and your duties."

The fourth prince nodded, unable to tear his gaze away from her. "Yes, I've been keeping busy." He paused, taking a deep breath. "I just wanted to say… congratulations. You look radiant."

"Thank you," she said softly, her smile genuine. "It means a lot coming from you."

He gulped, pausing briefly before meeting her eyes. "You are happy, aren't you? The general... he's treating you well, yes?" He knew that San had already assured him of this once, but he needed to hear it from her to be fully convinced, to properly let go.

The lady softened and nodded. "I am, my friend. I feel like the happiest woman on earth. I assure you, you don't have to worry about me. And yes, my husband is very good to me. I promise you, I'm telling the truth," she added with a hint of jest.

"That's good. That's all that matters to me, my lady. Promise me you'll invite me over once the baby's born," the fourth prince said, despite the light ache in his chest.

"Of course, Your Highness! You'll be the first I'll invite!" she replied, laughing warmly.

The two exchanged a few more words, their conversation unknowingly catching most people's eyes in the hall, given their well-known history. For those craving drama, it was slightly anticlimactic to see the two get along so well. While the King and Queen exchanged proud smiles, the ninth prince was less than pleased, again overshadowed by his elder brother. Even on his special day, Yeosang managed to steal the spotlight.

The fourth prince sensed all eyes on him, growing slightly self-conscious. He wasn't clueless; he hadn't been naive enough to ignore that his failed attempt to win General Park's wife had been the talk of the palace. People weren't scrutinising him merely for his birthmark and rebellious tendencies anymore, but also for his brave yet foolish pursuit of a taken woman—one who belonged to one of the most intimidating and feared individuals in all of Joseon.

Knowing it was time to make himself scarce, he took one last, long look at the lady he still held feelings for, reminding himself it was time to truly let go. She was happy, with child, about to build a family with her husband. It was wrong for him to still feel this way.

"I wish you happiness, my lady. May you have a safe delivery, and I look forward to meeting your mini you," he said, his voice tinged with genuine warmth and a lingering sorrow.

She giggled softly, nodding. "Thank you, my prince. I wish you all the happiness in the world as well."

With that, Yeosang finally bid the lady goodbye, not forgetting to shoot the general a grateful nod before making his way out of the hall. He needed somewhere quiet to organise his thoughts and emotions. As he walked away, the murmurs and whispers of the court followed him, a stark reminder of the weight of his actions and the expectations placed upon him.

Reaching a secluded garden within the palace grounds, now adorned with lanterns hanging from the trees as part of the celebration, he allowed himself to breathe deeply, the cool night air filling his lungs. The moonlight cast gentle shadows, and the lanterns emitted a soft glow, while the distant sounds of the banquet faded into the background. Alone with his thoughts, he closed his eyes, letting the reality of the situation wash over him.

He had seen her happiness, her radiant glow as an expectant mother, and it brought him a strange sense of peace. It was time to move forward, to let go of the past, and to find his own path to happiness.

Taking one last deep breath, he straightened up, a newfound resolve settling within him. It was time to face the future, whatever it might hold, with a heart unburdened by past regrets.

Time to move on, Kang Yeosang...

The night had never felt longer than it did now as you sat wearily beside your fiancé. You observed with curiosity as Prince Yeosang conversed with the beautiful Lady Park, catching the gossip from two palace maids nearby. So this was the woman who held the fourth prince's heart and was the reason for his significant change.

Love, indeed, was a strange force, altering people as soon as they were struck by its powerful emotions. You wondered if you would ever experience such feelings. But glancing to your left at your soon-to-be husband, you doubted it would ever happen. From here on, everything was merely a duty—this marriage, this commitment.

At some point, you noticed that Yeosang was no longer in sight. Ah, to leave as you please must be a luxury. Like him, you, too, would rather be anywhere but here. But with no choice, you remained seated, playing the role of the perfect fiancée to the ninth prince.

Nearing the end of the banquet, the overwhelming presence of false kindness around you became unbearable. Turning to Prince Yeochan, you forced a smile. "Your Highness, it seems the event is drawing to an end. I am feeling rather fatigued. May I please excuse myself?"

He turned to you, and you could see the effort it took for him not to roll his eyes as he too forced a grin. "Of course, love. Anything for my princess," he said, loud enough for his father to hear.

The King of Joseon nodded approvingly. "Go, my dear. The ninth prince shall attend to the remaining guests."

With a grateful bow, you departed, ignoring the searing gaze of your father on your back. You had avoided interacting with him all night; his presence made you sick to the core. If having a father meant having one like him, you would rather have none at all. You couldn't wait for him to leave, not wanting to see him any longer.

As soon as you were out of the hall, you dismissed the maids escorting you, preferring to be alone and sparing them the burden of accompanying the hated Ruhon princess. With a sigh of relief, your shoulders slumped, finally feeling a sense of freedom. You began walking aimlessly, letting your feet guide you wherever they pleased. Though you knew your way back to your quarters, you had no desire to return to that cage just yet. You needed fresh air, a moment of peace.

Your eyes sparkled in wonder when you stumbled upon a beautiful garden area illuminated by lanterns. The soft glow of the lanterns cast gentle shadows, creating a magical atmosphere. You paused, taking in the sight, feeling a sense of calm wash over you. The night air was cool and refreshing, a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere of the banquet hall.

Wandering deeper into the garden, you savoured the solitude. The sounds of the banquet faded into the distance, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the soft chirping of crickets. The garden felt like a sanctuary, a place where you could temporarily escape the expectations placed upon you.

Your breath hitched when you finally spotted a familiar figure sitting by the cobblestone ledge, facing a small pond. Carefully, you stepped towards him, unsure. Hearing your footsteps, he turned, causing you to freeze. With a small chuckle, he gestured to the spot beside him.

"Oh, hey there. Take a seat, princess." Your heart skipped a beat at the way he addressed you, genuine and without sarcasm, unlike your fiancé. And so you did, settling down beside him cautiously.

You swallowed nervously, avoiding his gaze, and asked in a whisper, "Aren't you angry with me, Your Highness? For deceiving you?"

He raised a brow in surprise and replied, "Why would I be, princess? Technically, I never inquired about your identity, and you haven't told me any lies. There is nothing for you to feel bad over, and absolutely no reason for me to be displeased. If anything, I'm quite happy to learn that you'll be staying here. You know, it's not often I encounter someone with a mind as exceptional as mine," he added with a teasing smile, giving you a gentle nudge on the shoulder.

A laugh escaped you, and you turned to face him, your heart fluttering at the sight of his warm and pretty smile. He extended his hand towards you. "Friends?"

You hesitated only for a moment before placing your hand in his. "Friends."

As you sat side by side, a tranquil silence enveloped you both. The gentle glow of lanterns bathed the garden in a soft, ethereal light, while the quiet murmurs of the pond added a serene backdrop to the moment. The moonlight shimmered on the water, creating a magical and soothing atmosphere.

You stole a glance at him, a genuine smile gracing your lips. For the first time since your arrival, the oppressive weight of loneliness seemed to lift. His presence beside you brought a sense of calm and companionship that had been sorely missing.

Perhaps, after all, being here wasn't so bleak. The evening's initial discomfort had given way to a blossoming connection. As you shared this peaceful moment, you couldn't help but think that this might be the start of something truly significant—a genuine friendship. The idea of finding someone who truly understood and accepted you kindled a warm hope in your heart.

I think I'll be just fine here, Mother.

« Preview of Part 2 »

"Thank you, my King," the mother of the nation murmured softly, holding her husband's hand as they settled into bed.

His Majesty raised an eyebrow, glancing at her with curiosity. "For what, my wife?"

The Queen sighed, her gaze distant. "For not forcing the fourth prince into this arranged marriage. I was afraid you might do so as part of his punishment, to settle him down once and for all."

The ruler of Joseon exhaled deeply. "I won't deny it, my Queen. I did consider it. But then I remembered Lady Park's words—he has endured enough already. It's my fault he became the man he is. I have not been the father he needed, and the least I can do now is honour his wishes, even if it means he chooses not to marry."

Her Majesty nodded, her voice gentle. "I have not been the best mother either. But perhaps it is time we make amends. This decision is for the best."

"It is," the King agreed, his tone resolute.

Surprise!! Didn't think I'd update on a Wednesday but long story short, I got injured and am on medical leave today. So, I figured, why not use this time to write? HAHA

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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#edenesth #the way to this heart #until i found you #twthh spinoff #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #kang yeosang #ateez yeosang #historical au #joseon era #yeosang x reader #yeosang x you #ateez fic

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wonfilms · 7 months ago

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bf! heeseung who ties up your laces for you even if you're both in a hurry, he's well aware you don't need him to ,obviously, but he just likes doing it to hear you complain and huff that you can do it yourself~

gets down on his knee tying them up cutely in a little bow before looking up at you with the prettiest little smile

still uses the complicated delicate method his grandma taught him when he was little, even though he taught himself the usual way... because it reminds him of her and he wants to share that little part of her in him with you too.

bf! heeseung who takes you to hotpot restaurants and lets you cook the meat, as much as he wants to swoop in 'n treat you like a princess because he likes how excited you get doing it yourself and serving it to him proudly

he buys you frozen yogurt afterwards, and buys you the yummy toppings even though they are heavy and they are gonna charge him extra at the till because he doesn't care about his poor financial decisions if you're giggling and smiling over yogurt.

bf! heeseung who lets you put makeup on him, and doll him up all prettily so you can practice on him

when you pout and say he's prettier than you now, he pulls you in for a huge kiss with his perfectly glossed lips (due to your gorgeous choice of lipstick) and leaves a soft red stain on yours, saying "now we're both pretty girls, but you were pretty before anyways.. "

bf! heeseung who likes being the little spoon sometimes even though he's so tall and strong, feels a bit out of place at first but melts right into your arms with a gooey smile on his face

a/n: i love bf! heeseung

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lurochar · 4 months ago

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A Snow Day in Hell

Heeey, anyone else remember that ‘special feeling’ meme from years ago? No? Me either

–----------------------------------------------

Hell had frozen over.

Literally.

It was an extraordinarily and incredibly rare occurrence, according to Charlie, who, a literal native demon born of Hell, had only seen it snow once before in her lifetime.

It generally occurred once every few hundred years, perhaps add or minus a century here or there, Lucifer could not be bothered to keep track when Charlie had asked him how often it actually happened since the snow only stuck around for a day at the very most and was just a minor inconvenience.

You were honestly excited to witness such a unique experience and were dismayed to find that Alastor could care less about such a thing.

And so, you had to pester him and even promised him a favour (his proceeding and chilling smile sent immediate shivers down your spine) just to take a stroll with you around town (and would probably regret when he came to collect that favour).

“Of course, Darling! I have no important tasks to complete today. Why, I would be ever so honoured to escort you to town on such a… lovely day.”

You gave Alastor a skeptical look when he glanced outside with an expression that screamed the opposite of what he was saying.

He clearly hated snow.

“But, seeing my partner beg me in such a pitiful manner – well, how can I possibly say no to that?”

Maybe you should have just asked Charlie? She seemed just as excited as you to see the snowfall.

It took quite a bit of self control for Alastor to not let out a dark chuckle at your varying expressions. You may be his companion, but he was still a sadist through and through.

Maybe it was a bit soft when it came to you though. Just a little bit.

Besides, as irritating and cold as it was, a little snow, that would literally only last for a day, would never hurt anyone, right?

~00~

“It’ll be on any minute now!”

You covered your face with a pillow in pure embarrassment, unable to look at the screen of the TV as Charlie bounced in excitement.

How did she find out?

Ah damn, she already gathered the others to watch.

“W-why are you here?” You barely lifted your face enough to eye Alastor, seeing him sitting smugly in his usual chair. “It was you, wasn’t it?! You told Charlie, didn’t you!?”

“Well, of course I did!” Alastor’s grin was utterly demonic and he was obviously taking pleasure in your mortification. “Normally, I am completely against these awful picture box shows and was utterly baffled when you agreed to a… television interview, Darling, with me when you are completely aware of my distaste.”

“Uh, wait,” Angel Dust raised his arm, “you’re on TV, Smiles? How did they capture you on camera? How’d you not, ya know, blow up the whole network with that whole staticky thing you do? Why is Vox even letting this air?”

Everyone glanced over to Alastor, but he answered nothing.

You had no idea either.

“Oh, it’s on!” Charlie pointed with a wide grin and you slumped over, ready to just pack your bags and leave to save yourself the embarrassment.

On the TV, the scene was that of you and a tall figure that was distorted, blurry, and pixelated, yet was clearly Alastor from shape and colour alone. Honestly, you were surprised he was showing up even this much and not blowing out the camera like Angel Dust had pointed out.

It was a simple question, you were only stopped by the news reporter to ask what you thought of the unprecedented snowfall.

You had just been caught up in the moment, the idea of experiencing the whole once-in-a-lifetime thing with your partner.

So you had replied with something straight out of a Christmas romcom movie or something equally as cheesy. You really had no idea where it came from. Maybe the fact that Alastor had summoned an umbrella and was holding it over both of your heads?

It was mainly so he wouldn’t get snow in his ears, you would find out later.

“Isn’t this just amazing? Snow that falls only every few hundred years? It’s stunning, isn’t it?” Your face was beginning to turn red as you continued on without waiting for another question from the reporter. “Being in the snow with my lover like this immerses me in a special feeling. I love it.”

Oh fuck.

How the fuck could you say that with a straight face!?

It was clear that Alastor felt the shame for you, even through his blurry distorted figure, you could see his ears flatten against his head and his head completely turn away from the reporter like he wasn’t there to hear your cringey words.

“Oh my Satan, are you fucking serious?” The news reporter sneered at you. “I just asked you about some fucking frozen water. Not your version of a romantic date you’ll have in your shitty wet dreams.”

You blinked and the distorted Alastor slowly turned his head back towards the reporter.

“This is fucking Hell, not some Barbieland bulls–”

You couldn’t help it and a few of your more demonic features were showing before you could stop them and you grabbed the umbrella Alastor was still holding. “You asked me a question about snow and I answered and then you make fun of me for that!? So what if I want a romantic outing with my lover!?” You shoved the umbrella’s pole into the gut of the reporter and growl into the camera, hearing the cameraman cry out before it cuts out and the interview is over.

There was complete silence.

“W-well, maybe it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was.” You scratch your cheek, “J-just forget what I sa–”

“Oh, that was so romantic!” Charlie’s eyes were wide and sparkly, “I never knew snow could make you feel that way.” She gasped loudly, looking at Vaggie. “There’s still time! Come on, Vaggie! We need to go out in the snow to ‘immerse ourselves’ in that special feeling!”

Vaggie just throws you a grumpy look before sighing and following after Charlie.

Angel Dust is laughing his ass off, “Special feeling? Seriously, Dollface? Did that cold freeze your brain cells or somethin’? Well, at least ya showed that dick reporter who’s boss. Smiles, over there, did nothin’.”

“I don’t need him to do everything for me.” You muttered, glancing over at Husk and, for once, glad to see he’s too drunk to care and Niffty had lost interest as soon as she saw a cockroach.

You looked over to Alastor.

“Are you satisfied?” You asked with a sigh, “Watching me embarrass myself and then lose control on the news that’s aired all around Hell?”

Alastor’s grin widened. “Very much so, Darling. Not only have you provided me with great entertainment, but now you have also given me an excuse to go after the one who aired your follies. I do believe I should give my ‘old pal’ a visit quite soon.”

Yeah.

You really should have just asked Charlie earlier.

#alastor x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

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heedeungism · 3 months ago

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say yes to heaven (say yes to me). | teaser

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⭒ ice prince!sunghoon x fire princess!reader 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ⭒ the crown prince of the ice kingdom is not known for having objects of affection. perhaps the fiery princess of the fire kingdom is all that is needed to thaw his frozen heart. (route 1 of the eternal flame saga) 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐒 ⭒ alcohol, cursing, the beginnings of a panic attack, dwagons 𝐄𝐒𝐓. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ⭒ 10k> (teaser is 1k) 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒 ⭒ this is only a small snippet of a longform fic i’ve been working on since house of the dragon started up again, so obviously it’s inspired by that. however i did need to fix the whole incest = dragons so i made up this whole concept that, while obviously inspired by hotd, is incest free! i have other fics in this same universe outlined(hence the ‘route 1 of the eternal flame saga’), but i will be focusing most of my attention on this fic until it’s done!

masterlist. rules. request.

The House of Frost’s sigil is arguably one of the more simple of the Great Houses. A banner of pale blue, a white emblem of stark beauty, a dragon. Next to sigils of the other Kingdom’s, it appears as icy as one would imagine.

The Houses of Earth and Wind fly flags of more neutral colors, ivories and browns. The Water Dragon Kingdom’s a royal blue and Sky Dragon's a pale pink, but none so beautifully bright as his.

Yet, you see no sign of it as you sit at the head of the dining hall beside your brother.

Tourney’s you’ve attended usually start with a dinner the first day, then a melee or joust the second and third, a tour, maybe even a hunt if so desired by the king, or Prince Regent in this case. Your brother seems keen on being exceptionally annoying, booking your schedule for the week with barely enough time to bathe let alone avoid the eyes of the realm.

So, now, you sit at the large dinner, and realize you have yet to see the sigil you were so expecting.

Riki leans down at his station standing close behind you, “I imagine the Northern Sea is rather backed up this time of year.”

His jest does not impress you, “He could arrive on dragonback if he so cared.” As you finish your childish claim, the doors open.

“Prince Sunghoon of the House of Frost. Heir to his throne.”

Your sworn knight nearly snorts, as a tall male arrives. He has no company, only the sword at his hip as he prowls toward the table you sit.

Ten years had changed a lot. No longer did he have the sickly look about him, his skin even and his shoulders fuller with what you can only assume is muscle. He carries himself with a confidence you could never compare to princes like Yeonjun of the Earth Territories, who holds his head too high and carries too cocky of a smile for you to respect him outright, or Sunoo of the Sky Archipelagos in the west who’s bashful countenance somewhat underwhelmed you considering the story attached to his crowning.

Prince Sunghoon is sure of himself, you can see it in the slight sway of his shoulders and his wide gait, but he doesn’t carry that confidence with the arrogance you expected of the Prince of Crystal Snow.

He’s beautiful. Fuck.

“It appears he does care, your highness.”

Riki snickers as you quickly bite back, “Shut up.”

“Prince Sunghoon, I thought we were to expect your family on the morrow?” Your brother muses, and the prince bows at his waist in greeting.

“My mother, the queen, fell ill. I come alone.” He said, his voice is much deeper as well, though that’s to be expected.

“I wish her good health, then.” The Prince Regent wishes a genuine prayer. The ice prince bows his head, his gaze only moves to you when you speak.

“And your knight?”

Your brother kicks your foot under the table at your tone, yet the prince only offers a gentle smirk with another honest bow, “Ser Jaeyun arrives tomorrow. He found a ride on dragonback to be…unpleasant.”

Riki coughs, and you fight the tug at the corner of your mouth with a sip of wine, “Pity.”

“Is Ser Jaeyun to participate in tomorrow's celebrations?” Your brother asks, the joust, and the prince shakes his head.

“I would prefer, Your Grace, myself to participate,” His gaze flicks to yours, and an unyielding warmth plants its roots at the bottom of your spine, creeping up the longer his eyes keep you in their sights, “If you would allow it.”

Your brother seems all too pleased at the news, “I see no reason to object. What of you, Princess?”

Sipping the wine in your cups does nothing to ease the nerves of your heart, “By all means.”

He bows once again before a servant guides him to his table, where a visibly excited Prince Sunoo waves him over. The other princes gather at that table, mingling and laughing together.

While you sit at the grand dining table sipping from your cups like it’s life’s water, the dress you were put into squeezing your abdomen uncomfortably.

“I do hope we have enough sheep to keep the dragons fed.” Your brother muses, observing the table of dragonheirs before glancing your way.

“Most of them keep themselves fed,” You dismiss, “We shouldn’t deplete our people’s resources for an event this needless.”

“Your words wound me, sister.” He pouts, quite unbecoming of a Prince Regent.

“Then may you bathe in the salts of Azora.” The bite to your words makes your brother sigh, he startles slightly when you slam your goblet back onto the table beside your plate of picked-at food, “My cup is empty.”

A servant hastens forward to refill it, a shaky apology falling from her lips, which has you regretting your outburst immediately. When she moves to retreat back to her position hovering near the wall so as to not be seen, you grab the pitcher from her hands and say, “I’ll keep this, please.”

The word falling from your lips seems to surprise her, before she panics and bows, “Of course, my princess.”

Riki snickers as the servant hastens away to make herself useful elsewhere, biting his cheek when you hiss, “Shut. Up.”

When you face forward once again, your eyes scanning the room, your gaze is caught in another.

Smoldering flames meet biting frost, and a burning tug travels up your gut and into your throat. It’s pure instinct that tears your gaze away, an attempt to free your body of the dreadful feeling.

It lingers in your chest even as you take a hefty swallow from your cup.

I am dragonfire. You repeat to yourself, a rush in your veins. The wine makes your skin hot, and the corset around your torso only makes catching your breath all the more difficult. The litany does not quell the flames in your chest.

I am dragonfire. I am the flame's heart. I am unburnt and I am the Princess of Eternal Flame.

#enhypen #park sunghoon #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon #sunghoon x y/n #dragons #dragon rider au #royalty au #enhypen x reader #sunghoon enhypen #fantasy concept #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fluff #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #sunghoon fluff #princess!reader #bugs wips !

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eightmakesonebraincell · 1 year ago

Note

i have a little request! what happens with mafia mingi & yn? do they ever meet again? if so, how?

same with wooyoung! do they still meet at the convenience store every night? did he bring the others over to introduce reader to them?

oh im curious yeahhhhh

ateez as mafia members pt 2

original post here

pairing: mafia!mingi x reader, mafia!wooyoung x reader, mentions of ot8!mafia

genre: fluff, crack, a continuation of the mafia tropes brainrot-fest

length: 2.1k

c/w: explicit language, violence, weapons, mentions of alcohol, unedited

a/n: thank you anon for requesting (and special thanks @sorryimananti-romantic for validating my writing 🫶) this was only meant to be like a five dot-point thing explaining what happens, but obviously mafia!ateez has me in their chokehold. mafia!ateez in my brain: it's free real estate

mingi

it takes a few days for you to reopen your bar after your fateful meeting with ccg

ccg as in cute coat guy

because quite frankly, that night shook you up a little

mingi most definitely notices your absence

but it's not like he can just check up on how you're doing

not when your bar is closed and he has no real excuse to show up apart from "i was worried about you"

after he reports back to base and rejoins ateez, hongjoong's girlfriend offers to hack into the database and find out what your phone number is

("it'll literally take me like, two seconds")

mingi refuses though because he wants to do things the right way

at least...when it comes to things concerning you

after you reassure yourself that the thugs chasing after cute coat guy aren't going to kill you by association, you feel safe enough to open up the mist again

his leather coat usually sits draped over your chair behind the countertop

originally, you think about washing it before returning it to him

...whenever he shows up you suppose

but then you kind of like the smokey smell of gunpowder with an underlying hint of his cologne that is on the coat

so you leave it as it is

in fact, you might have actually worn it a couple of times

you like how the end of the coat brushes against your calves, how the sleeves fall past your fingertips, how it engulfs your entire frame like an embrace

but mostly, you like how it reminds you of the handsome stranger; who claims he is a good bad guy; who you still do not know the name of

you wonder if he made it back safely that night

you're wearing the coat as you're closing up for the night - it's already well past midnight

you're just about to reach for the last glass on one of the tables when you hear the door to your bar opening

"sorry, i’m closed for the nigh- oh," you pause

it’s ccg

who currently has one leg and arm halfway through the threshold of your door, now frozen mid-step at your words

“if now’s not a good time, i can come back another day?” he starts out hesitantly

“now’s great! good. yes,” you chuckle nervously and try not to be too enthusiastic at his appearance. “now’s good, come in”

you catch his eyes briefly flicker down for a moment before they return to your eyes

then he gives you a soft look and greets you gently, “hi”

“hi,” you return, brain shutting down on you

“you look cute in that,” he jerks his chin down slightly to motion at what he was looking at just moments ago

his leather coat

that you are currently wearing

you squeak in embarrassment, hands fumbling to take it off while you vomit out explanations as to why you’re wearing it

your fingers get caught up in the sleeves

but then he is stepping closer slowly so as not to alarm you, before he grasps the ends of the sleeves and helps tug them off your arms

mingi can’t help but use the opportunity to tenderly hold one of your hands

he’s missed the way your smaller hands fit snugly in his

“did you come back for your coat?” you try to break the silence, because otherwise you are afraid he will hear the heartbeats coming from inside your chest

he nods, “wanted to make sure you were okay, too”

there is a third reason that he does not say

that he just wanted to see you

“i’m okay now,” you reassure him

because he’s back now and he’s safe

he folds the leather coat and places it on the countertop before he says, “i don’t think i ever got your name?”

you tell him then ask him for his

“mingi”

“mingi,” you repeat

he repeats your name in return

“mingi,” you say yet again

“y/n”

you both laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole conversation

“mingi, want to help me close the bar?”

and so you find yourself in his company as you give him easy tasks to do

closing up has always been a tedious job, especially when your body and mind are groggy with fatigue

but with mingi around, an accidental brush whenever you shuffle past each other, a conversation easily flowing between you both, you are awake as ever

even long after all the tables and shot glasses have been cleaned and polished, floors swept, bottles of alcohol reorganised, mingi still has not left

and at some point during the night once you two sit at the countertop to rest your legs, both of you have subconsciously inched closer together in your seats, bodies seeking the warmth and proximity of the other

you are unsure how long you two talk for

but just like that first, fateful meeting with mingi, he stands up to take his leave all too soon

“goodnight, mingi”

mingi buffers for a minute before he decides to do it

he reaches out for your hand, clasping it gently to bring it up to his lips as he presses a light kiss against the back of your hand

and with a goodbye of his own, he turns for the door

except he lingers in the doorway, asking, “will i see you again?”

a smile graces your lips at the irony of the situation and you tell him it's not like you'll be going anywhere; he's free to come visit any time

but you also feel your stomach flutter

because last time, you were the one tugging on mingi’s vest, timidly wondering if that was going to be the last you saw of him

tonight, he is the one unwilling to part ways

not to say that you aren’t either

“i’ll see you around, then,” he says with finality, voice still soft-spoken

and then he leaves

but just mere seconds later you spot it

his leather coat

still folded on your counter where he had placed it earlier

"wait, your coat!" you rush outside with it

mingi is only a few feet away

he could very easily turn around and take it from you

but then he just winks, gives you a tip of his hat and says, "next time," before he's walking away again

you chew on the inside of your cheek to stop the silly grin from blooming across your face

because something tells you that you're going to be hanging on to mingi's coat for him for a while

even after next time

wooyoung

it feels like deja vu

a whole gang of mafia members sauntering into your convenience store like a scene straight out of a movie

admittedly, they are much more pleasing to the eye than the group that was chasing after wooyoung weeks ago

but still

these are several muscular men in tank tops, leather jackets and heavy chained necklaces

your hand itches for the comforting weight of the pepper spray in your purse that wooyoung had gotten you just last week

you haven't had a reason to need it since wooyoung basically lives in your store now

and he always walks you home after your shift

but now seems like a more than good enough time to use it

"you usually work the night shift here?"

a voice causes your eyes to snap up

the man at the head of the group addresses you with a quirk of his brow - it's pierced, you notice

"...yeah," you answer

you wonder if this is your last shift at work and at life

and then just like a repeat of last time, you spot wooyoung's frantic bounce of curls appear from across the street of your store

you pray to the heavens above that he isn't being chased by anyone else this time

because the thought of two gangs crossing paths inside your modest store?

you don't think it's going to look like a store after their fight is through

you see the way wooyoung's eyes widen when he spots the thugs just mere feet away from you and you see a curse form on his lips

you just need to hold out until he gets here

wooyoung will keep you safe

wooyoung will-

"then you must know," the man leans in a little closer to grab your attention, "where i can find-"

wooyoung bursts through the door

"-the super sour gummy worms?" the man finishes

you physically cannot help the words that blurt out of you in disbelief, "the fuck you just say?"

"hongjoong!" wooyoung's piercing shout interrupts you both

wooyoung worms his way through the gang and you stare incredulously at him before you say, "the fuck did you just say?"

he ignores you in favour of pressing his hands against the chest of the man - hongjoong? - and trying to push him towards the doors of your store

quite unsuccessfully, you must add

"the fuck are you guys doing here?" wooyoung yells

"what the fuck is going on?" you demand

"holy fuck, not even hongjoong swears this much"

"fuck yeah, potty mouth!"

"stop swearing you fucktards!"

one of the men who has been lingering on the edge of the group sidles up to the counter, looking at you with an apologetic grimace

"sorry you have to deal with...this," he shakes his head just as another man comes to join you both, "i'm jongho, by the way"

"seonghwa," the other man introduces himself with a gentle voice

these mafia men are surprisingly kind

and normal

except, you suppose, anyone in comparison to wooyoung would be normal

"are you all wooyoung's, uhh, friends?" you don't know whether they know you know

they chuckle, "yeah, we're his friends. his brothers, too, you could say"

you realise the rest of the men have started to settle down and are standing in a rough semi-circle around your counter

wooyoung is currently grumbling and muttering indignantly under his breath with someone's arm thrown over his shoulders, though it looks more like he's a child being scolded by his father than it looks a friendly gesture

"so to what do i owe the pleasure of a visit from all of you?" you ask them, now that there is no swearing being thrown across the room and you realise they aren’t going to shoot you through the head

"had to see for ourselves who was making our wooyoung all smitten. always sneaking out at night like a tween"

"yunho!" wooyoung hisses and elbows said man in the ribs

except with the height difference, it's more like his hips

it's amusing to see how everyone has the upper hand over wooyoung's brattiness

"am i meeting the in-laws already?" you smirk at wooyoung, "you like me or something, jung wooyoung?"

he flushes bright red and you're quite positive that if you made him take his socks off, you would find him blushing straight down to his toes

"that's it!" he hollers, arms flailing and shooing everyone, "out! out! out!"

you know they can easily resist his pushy hands, but they simply snicker and let themselves be herded towards the doors

"bye, darling!" someone jumps up and down to catch your gaze over the heads of everyone else

"shut up, san!"

yunho, you think you recall his name being, flutters his fingers at you cheekily, "we'll be back soon!"

and then he lets out an indignant yelp when wooyoung slaps his back with a screech, "no, you guys won't!"

you're laughing heartily by this point, unrestrained and very much enjoying their antics

"bye, everyone," you wave them off and then blow wooyoung an exaggerated kiss, "see you later, wooyoungie!"

everyone cackles with glee at the sight of him trying to dig himself into the ground

the sound of their ruckus finally dies down as they exit and walk further away from your store

and then you hear a distant wail

"i didn't get my gummy worms!"

you shake your head with a fond smile and take a seat at the register, but not before setting aside a pack of those ‘super sour gummy worms’ for hongjoong

and then, like always, you look at the clock and count the seconds as they tick past

counting down the seconds until wooyoung comes back to see you

again

#loren writes #loren answers #my lil anons <3 #ateez fic #ateez fics #ateez x reader #mingi x reader #mingi fluff #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez headcanons #ateez au #mafia ateez #ateez fluff #ateez crack

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my-writings-and-musings · 9 months ago

Text

Clawing my way out of depression with some incredibly silly Bumblebee x Reader, in which our beloved Scout is shrunk down to the size of a kitten via science magic and reader must keep him warm in their coat. Reader is gender neutral beyond having titties for Bee to huddle against. Read and join me as I defeat SAD with the power of silliness.

Shrunken Earthspark Bumblebee x GN!Reader

Rated PG for silliness, fluff and booby mention

Hunkering down at the abandoned warehouse you'd been told to wait in, you kept your eyes and ears on the horizon, hoping that the hum of familiar engines would cut through the howling wind and whirling snow before long. Though the air was frigid enough to freeze your breath, the bitter cold accounted for only a small portion of your desire to swiftly reunite with the team, as you had much bigger problems that you needed help with. Well, perhaps "bigger" wasn't the right word for it...

Standing atop the opposite end of the windowsill for his own vigil, Bumblebee looked remarkably alert and well composed for someone a fraction of their natural height. You supposed that his brush with Mandroid could have gone much worse; at least the device the scientist had escaped with had only shrunk the Scout, and done no further harm. It was a double miracle that you'd managed to find his tiny form amidst the knee deep snow of the battlefield. Rubbing your gloved hands together and trying not to stare, you told yourself that Wheeljack would be able to fix everything in no time, and that a few broken laws of physics would return your beloved bot to his usual towering height. Seeing him this tiny was just too strange, and not to mention unspeakably adorable.

A kitten-sized sneeze drew your eyes away from the snowy landscape out the window, and you looked over to find the Scout hugging himself through a dramatic shiver. "Bee? You okay?" you asked quickly, unable to help feeling far more protective than usual.

"F-f-fine!" he replied just as quickly, spinning around to face you. Digits trembling, he forced a shaky smile as he attempted to pass off crossing his arms as a casual gesture, though the tiny crystals of ice you noticed spreading across his frame gave him up just as readily. The poor mech sounded like he was seconds away from turning into a tiny Autobot popsicle as he shivered through every syllable. "Just a little... ch-chilly... B-but I'm f-fine!"

A number of realizations pinged through your mind at once; Bee must have lost a considerable amount of heat while buried in the snow, he was now far too small to regain said warmth, and he had no real idea how to stop himself from freezing now that he didn't have mass to protect himself. His pride had undoubtedly kept him from voicing the problem as it worsened, leaving you with a very tiny and very frozen Scout to thaw. "You're obviously freezing! Why didn't you tell me?"

"N-never been a p-problem before..." he replied as he gave in and started to shiver. Your heart twisted in pity, and you looked about as your brain raced to think of a solution, the lack of supplies leaving you with very few options. There was no way to build a fire, nor was there any power supply to start up the building's climate control, which was probably busted anyway. If only you had a tiny jacket to share...

"I need to get you warm; fast. Let me think... oh!"

The solution that came to you was very silly, and in a less life-threatening situation you would have thought it was quite embarrassing, but the prospect of saving your beloved Scout left no room for such doubts. Unzipping the front of your coat, you offered a hand for him to climb onto.

"Come here. You'll be plenty warm under my coat." you explained, figuring he'd fit perfectly between your shirt and the ample padding. Despite the chill, Bee managed a pink blush across his frozen cheeks, optics going wide in bashful embarrassment as he put together what you meant. It seemed that his pride hadn't shrunk with him.

"Y-you don't have-"

"Shush. At this rate, you'll freeze before our ride gets here" you insisted, voice growing a tad more urgent at his worsening freeze. Just watching his wings shake in time with his shivers made you care little for any kind of pride, including your own, and you used your concern to remain steadfast. Bringing your hand close enough for him to feel the warmth radiating from your glove made his resolve visibly waver. "So for now, my heat is your heat."

"Mmm..." he hummed in uncertainty, growing more tempted by the second. No bigger than a kitten and only slightly more intimidating, he cracked after only a few additional moments of hesitation, steadying himself against your thumb as he sat in your palm. He couldn't have weighed more than a pound, and you had to stifle a reflexive squee as he instinctively pressed himself into the warmth of your hand. A drooping of his optics made resisting that much harder. "Maybe just for a few minutes..."

"Of course." you said with a knowing smile. Gently sliding him into the opening of your coat, you just managed to avoid hissing as his frigid mesh settled against your shirt, though it was easy to ignore the discomfort when the tiny bot melted against you. With the outcrop of your breasts to support him, and the... "plush" of the area in question to keep him comfortable, Bee settled down as quickly as one would on a luxary mattress. Shivers dying down before your very eyes, the Scout rested his helm against you with the tiniest sigh. You had an undeniable urge to pet him as you whispered down into the little pocket of warmth. "There. Better?"

"Much... thank you." he murmured, looking up to meet your eyes with a smile as grateful as it was sleepy. Hoping he couldn't hear the resulting flutter of your heart, you pulled the zipper up a tad to keep the heat from escaping, grateful that your mammalian physiology could come in such handy. You'd have happily watched him rest his optics for hours, but a hum in the distance drew your gaze to the frosty window. Through the thick whirls of snow, your squinting eyes made out the faint outline of a familiar truck and aircraft, followed by a number of other vehicles you'd been hoping to see. The convoy had arrived.

"I think that's our evac, do you want-"

You went quiet at the sound of the tiniest snores you'd ever heard emanating from your coat, and as soon as your heart was done with its backflip, you found yourself wondering whether or not Bee would wish to be woken before his comrades saw him snoozing atop your breasts.

#transformers #maccadam #earthspark #transformers earthspark #tf earthspark #transformers: earthspark #tfe #tfes #bumblebee #earthspark bumblebee #bumblebee x reader #x reader #tf #tf x reader #fluff #gn reader #Tiny!Bee

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paradiseismine · 7 months ago

Text

Don’t be such a nice guy - Trevor Spengler x reader

Pairing: Trevor Spengler (Ghostbusters Afterlife/Frozen Empire) x f!reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol; a bit of fluff; mostly smut.

Summary: you and Trevor meet at your friend’s party a few weeks after your encounter at the Spengler’s’ home. This is sort of a part 2 to “Late Night Talking”, a previous fic of mine.

Angie was definitely the best friend you had made since you moved. She was really fun and kind to you at all times. Another thing about her, maybe one of the most prominent aspects of her personality is that she was a party girl. She loved parties, and she wanted to throw a party at her own house to welcome you into the city (even though you had moved a few months ago). So, of course, you helped her prepare everything.

It was time for the party already: the decorations were all over the walls, on the handrails and even on the carpet. All the food and drinks were perfectly arranged on the kitchen table and on a bar-looking piece of furniture her father had. Some people had arrived already, but your guest of honor was yet to be seen… Until the front door opened again.

There he was. So tall and so handsome.

- Hi babe - you greeted Trevor, throwing both your arms around his neck, a sugary strawberry drink in your hand. - I’m so glad you came! How’s everything?

Trev took you in for a second before responding. He could smell your sweet perfume from a few steps before you greeted him, and it was so good it made his mouth water. Your hair was simply perfect, and the outfit you were wearing made him stare at your breasts for a second too long.

- Oh hi, princess - he smiled, still stunned. He put a hand to your cheek and quickly pecked your lips. - I feel so much better now that I found you.

- Me too - you smiled back, softly. - Should we get you a drink?

In no time, the room was filled with loud teens and even louder music. To be able to talk properly, as the majority of the guests were gathered in the living room, you took Trevor to Angie’s kitchen. She knew about your fling with Trevor and wanted to help her new bestie, of course.

You sat on the kitchen counter while Trevor towered over you, his hands on your sides. You two started talking about your most recent dates - ever since that night in his room, a month ago, you were inseparable. You had had a picnic date, a museum date, a movie theater date and, obviously, a vintage record store date. Until that night: now you were attending your first party together.

As the music had suddenly gotten louder, to which you both assumed was some sort of party game, you felt the need to speak closer to each other. Trevor lightly lowered his head to meet your right ear. Partly because of how noisy the house was, but partly because he wanted to feel you shiver over his voice and the feather light touch of his lips to your ear as he spoke.

- You know, the other day in my room - he said, his voice raspier than usual. - We couldn’t quite finish what we started… And I couldn’t think of anything else since.

You bit your lip, feeling your stomach fill itself with butterflies, and looked him in the eyes.

- Don’t look at me like that - Trev smirked. - You know what those eyes do to me, don’t you?

You pulled him closer by his T-shirt, glueing your lips together. He kissed you slowly at first, savoring the taste of strawberry and alcohol on your tongue. Trevor had always been a good kisser, ever since that night in his room.

As the kiss grew more urgent and intense, his hands found their way up your skirt. He would touch your inner thighs and feel the way you shivered and squirmed, just to remove his hand a few seconds later.

- Trev, touch me - you pleaded, your face flushed and your voice faint. - I need you.

- Are you sure? - he said, gently, as his right hand rested on your thigh. You two were drinking that night, and he wanted to be absolutely sure he had your consent.

- Don’t be such a nice guy - you responded, eyes squinted in desire, as you pushed his right hand further up your thigh. With his mouth agape, he simply let you guide him.

- God, you’re so wet for me, princess - he said, his index finger sliding your panties to the side and slipping inside you in a nearly magnetic way. - So tight - he continued, smirking as your eyes rolled and you bit your lips, desperate for relief.

Your pussy was pulsating around his finger uncontrollably, and you hadn’t even cum yet. Trev’s touch had such power over you, you were willing to do anything he wanted at that point.

- Just a finger and you’re already this weak, baby girl? - he whispered in your ear again, and you couldn’t help but moan. He took his finger off of your pussy and sucked on it, moaning and closing his eyes at the taste. - Do you think you can cum on my finger again, just like last time?

The way he talked to you, alone, made you nearly cum, so you nodded and guided him to keep touching your clit. You were so wet and so needy for him. It didn’t take long for your back to arch and your mouth to open in a delicious moan to his ear - the first of many times he intended to make you cum that night.

Trevor took his finger off your pussy and tasted you once again. It’s like he couldn’t get enough.

- Maybe we could take this to another room? - he said, the tent on his pants pretty evident.

You nodded, quickly standing up from the counter. Your legs felt like spaghetti and your stride was definitely different because of all the arousal dripping between your legs. You took Trev’s hand in yours and guided him towards the guest room. Nobody really used that room or went there that often, Angie had said, but she had it all tidied up for you to sleep over after the party. Little did she know, you weren’t sleeping alone.

Trevor sat down on the guest room bed, so you sat next to him, your fingers tugging lightly at the jet black hair on his nape. After another round of heated kisses, you went for his neck. He smelled so delicious you wanted to bite him - so you did. You’d lightly bite down on his neck, kiss the area and drag your bottom lip all the way up to his ear - a great place to nibble on and get some more urgent moans from him.

The way he was gripping your waist was intoxicating. You had had a few drinks that night, but nothing as strong as Trevor’s kiss. The more he kissed you, the more drunk you felt, the more desperate for him you were.

The puddle in your panties was getting bigger by the minute, and you couldn’t wait any longer. You reached for the hem of his T-shirt, motioning for him to take it off, so he did. You covered his chest in kisses and feather light touches, as he lied on the bed, defenseless. You unzipped his pants and took them off as well. His shoes were already off. You trailed your kisses down his belly and slowly took off his boxers as well.

Before you could do anything else, he shifted your positions so he could be on top of you. He took off your blouse and your bra eagerly, and attacked your breasts with sensual kissing and suckling. He even gave you a hickey.

- You’re mine - he said, admiring his work on your chest. - All mine.

Your skirt was also off right after that. That boy was wasting no time. You had touched each other on your last encounter, but Trevor was dying to see you completely naked for the first time. As he trailed his kisses down your stomach and his hands cupped your waist firmly, you’d let out a few moans every time he’d grip you a little tighter.

- Can-can I pull these down? - Trev said, his hands a bit shaky as he toyed with your lacy underwear. - You always wear such tiny, slutty panties, princess… But I want to see all of you…

- Sure, baby - you answered, a delicious tingling sensation spreading through your body. - I’m yours. All yours.

Those words were everything Trevor needed to hear. He took your panties off very gently, sliding them down your legs and placing them on the corner of the bed. Then, Trev looked at you in a way that felt ambiguous: he looked like he could drop to his knees and pray to you, but also like he could devour you as his very last meal.

Before you could react, his hands had already parted your thighs and his lips were gently touching your soaking wet folds. He was lapping up your arousal as if it was water, his tongue circling your clit softly. Your moans were more audible now, and the way your legs were shaking was very telling of the great job he was doing.

You came undone a few minutes later, you brain practically melted from such pleasure. That boy was going to be the end of you.

- Trev, I need you - you managed to say after you came down from your high.

- I’m yours, beautiful - he said, in adoration. You pulled him close so he would lie on top of you.

The heat from his body was maddening, irresistible. You reached your hand down in between your bodies, grabbed his cock and lightly glazed its tip with your arousal. He hissed in pleasure, his eyes squeezed shut.

- Don’t we need a condom? - he asked.

- I’m on birth control - you answered, nearly whispering into his ear. - Have you ever cum inside a girl before?

He shook his head no.

- Would you like to?

- I’d love to - he responded, almost in a trance.

You guided his cock into your soaking wet pussy, your eyes rolling as it entered you, completely stretching you out. Trev was so thick. He rolled his hips into yours slowly at first, trying to find the perfect rhythm, but in no time, you two were panting and moaning together.

He stood up and pulled your body to the edge of the bed, now thrusting even deeper into you. His thumb found its way to your clit, and there you were again, cumming in his magic hands. No boy had ever made you cum so easily.

As you orgasmed, your pussy convulsed around his dick in such a delicious way, he could no longer hold it in. Trev sunk his dick as deep into you as he possibly could, and came inside you. The sensation was amazing, the feeling of his warm cum taking over your dripping wet pussy almost made you cum again.

- That was perfect - he said, breathless. - I swear you’re the hottest girl in the entire world.

You laughed. Trevor kissed you one last time, passionately. He desired your body hungrily, but he was also really in love with you. All of you.

- Thank you for tonight, my princess. - he smiled. You make my life so much lighter and more fun, you have no idea.

- You do the same to mine, love - you responded, gesturing for him to lie in bed next to you.

You snuggled in each other’s arms quickly, feeling sleepier than ever. Trevor turned off the lamp on the bedside table.

- Good night, love - he kissed your forehead as you rested your head on his chest.

- Good night, angel - you responded, already falling asleep to his scent and warmth.

|||||

You were stirred awaken by the sound of a phone vibrating on the bedside table. With your eyes still heavy from all the drinking and partying, you looked over. It was Trevor’s.

- Babe - you nudged his cheek with yours, that was previously on his chest. He let out a whimper and tightened his grip around your waist. - Trev, wake up… I think your mom is calling.

Trevor nearly jumped out of the bed, his eyes wider than ever.

- Fuck - he said, holding his phone as his other hand gripped some of his own hair. - Mom’s gonna kill me.

#finn wolfhard smut #finn wolfhard x reader #mike wheeler x reader #imagine #mike wheeler #miles fairchild #smut #trevor spengler #Trevor Spengler x reader

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