#very more-ish as my father would say

[mylittleredgirl]

hi i wanted to let you know i'd barely ever heard of stargate and didn't even know sga was a spinoff series but your weir gif blogging got me to watch the series and now i'm hooked

omg, ENJOY the war crimes ENJOY our troupe of loser space besties i’m SORRY about the horrors~

[yanderenightmare]

TW: yandere, noncon/dubcon, angst, unwanted pregnancy, blackmail, ish-baby trapping

PART ONE only avaliable on AO3 due to Tumblr restrictions

fem reader

You went cold and forgot how to breathe.

When you got to the kindergarten, they told you his father had already come and collected him early. All looking at you as though you were crazy, assaulting the daycare workers with your hands in a bruising grip, shaking her by her shoulders—demanding she tell you where he took him. 

She spilled the name of some family restaurant down the road and said he’d wanted you to join them there. The poor thing was on the verge of tears when you let go.

Rushing out, you all but ran down the streets before pushing yourself through the doors—cold-sweating and swivel-eyed—in a panic, scanning faces with his name coming out weak under your breath. 

With your vision spinning, you felt faint before you heard it.

“Mommy! Mommy! You’re here! Look! I’m King of the castle!” he shouted, and your peeled eyes snapped to see him up high in a bright red plastic tower.

But before your shoes could hit the soft foam of the playground, you were intercepted by something larger.

“He’s fine,” he said under his breath, catching and stopping you in your beeline, holding you by the waist. “I need to talk to you.”

Something old and instinctive didn’t bother paying him heed—as if forgetting how to speak, you just ignored him in favor of pushing past him, eyes glued to the sight of your son blissfully unaware, playing with other kids with an oblivious smile on his face. But his grip was stronger than your instincts, firm enough to keep you still but not enough to hurt you, even when you tried twisting yourself free.

“Come on,” he urged.

You were about to sneer something, finally looking at his face—that face you hated—but the bark of curse words got held back.

“Look around you. Let’s not cause a scene.” The wild animal within went silent while your eyes flickered around at the surrounding picnic tables where families were having their dinner. “We can talk outside. My assistant will look after him.”

You didn’t feel much inclined to listen, but still, even though it made you hate to fold on his behest—reluctantly, you accepted the sense of what he was saying. Looking back at your son still laughing up in his tower with cinched brows. You didn’t want to scare him when he didn’t know what was going on, even though you felt the need to scream at the very top of your lungs.

You allowed him to lead you outside, but as soon as the fresh air welcomed your rigid state, you were at once whipping around and pushing him away. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” snarling at him. “How fucking dare you?!”

“Calm down. He might still see us,” he hushed, hands raised in halfhearted surrender, casting a nod to the glass walls separating you from the frivolity inside. “Let’s just talk rationally.”

“Rationally?!” you scoffed in a shout, eyes still manic. “You fucking kidnapped my son, you psycho-”

“You wouldn’t answer my texts or calls,” he snubbed. “He’s my son too-”

“Fuck you,” you interrupted to return the favor. “If you fuck with me on this, I swear I’ll ruin you.” You had a finger raised at him, breathing furiously—looking down-right mad—sweaty and disheveled from your run with your face twisted with such a state of frenzy. “I’ll tell everyone how I got him in the first place!”

Despite the threat, he didn’t seem all that fazed. 

“Think about it…” he said calmly, much in contrast to you. “Who do you think people will believe? A teenage mom abusing her son for a paycheck or his estranged father wanting to provide for him?”

You blanched, and before anything else made it out—whether it be more rage or something else, he was already further silencing you.

“Not to mention… the trial would be gruesome, and Junior would have to grow up with it always hanging over his head—is that really what you want?”

You look at him, and you still can't believe it. How could it have turned out like this? You’d been perfect only a month ago before he’d shown up at your apartment.

You thought you’d sent him on his way for good that day, but only now did you realize he had no plans to leave you alone.

“Come, let’s talk in the car. It’s cold, and you’re not dressed,” he ushered, taking your arm again where you stood, stunned and still, trying to wrap your head around his threats. Letting yourself be led into the black vehicle standing perfectly parked in its neat white rectangle.

You both got in the back with enough room to battle your homey sofa nook at home.

“I don’t want this to get ugly,” he started anew—his voice still so irritatingly calm, unfairly so. “I just want to see my son-”

“He’s not yours,” you croaked, feeling the situation slip from your fingers—battling a drumming heart, shifty breaths, and the mean sting of tears welling up in your eyes.

“If you try and keep him from me, I’ll sue for full custody. And given I’m the only one out of us who isn’t a pro-bono case and the only one with any future that isn’t managing a register, I’d say I have a pretty fair shot at winning.”

You can’t keep from bursting out crying then, overwhelmed by the fear of losing the only thing that mattered and the pure disgust of the man who’d given it to you. It felt like everything was tearing—your whole life—crumbling before your eyes.

“Don’t cry,” he soothed, his hand coming to drape your hunched shoulders where you held your tears. “I don’t want to take him away from you…” His attempt did little to comfort you, but the next words had your heart grasping for what little hope they offered. “And I’m not going to either.”

You looked at him through the hurt of swollen eyes, tears still falling while he wiped them away with the course pad of his thumb—rubbing your cheek affectionately. In any other circumstance, you’d surely slap him, but right now, all you could do was listen.

“I’m buying a house,” he revealed, still holding your cheek and gaze. “Fit for a family. Safe neighborhood, good school district, giant backyard.” The list went over your head—it was all too surreal to register. You couldn’t even fathom what he was getting at until, “I want the two of you to come live there with me.”

Stunned, you remained completely silent until the tears dried, and he let go of your face. 

“You don’t have to say anything right now.” He reaches across you and fetches the seatbelt before coming back over you to click it in place. “I’ll go get Junior and drive you home. Just stay here.”

You do as suggested and stay seated as he pops his door open and leaves—feeling all but cemented in place as your thoughts go tumbling around and around as if caught in a rip curl. When Junior jumps in beside you, a farfetched smile is all you can offer. Thankfully, he’s so enamored by a toy he’d gotten to notice much of your state.

When your door opens again, you’re led out and onto your neighborhood street. The fresh air does little to clear your mind. Feeling all but feverish as you hold Junior's small hand in yours while the man of your nightmares smiles all too fondly at the two of you.

“I’ll come pick you up after your shift on Monday.,” he says decidedly—cheerfully as he ruffles Junior’s hair enough to make him giggle. “Bring the rascal with you, and he can pick his room first.”

You weren’t planning on staying. You were never planning on staying—certain you would leave the second the opportunity to skip town arose—you just need to scramble the money together first. 

But the house was huge… nothing you could ever dream of, and while it made you desperate with grief, you couldn’t deny it either… Junior really loved having a dad.

It nearly brought sick to your throat to call him that. It was a shot through the heart every time you heard Junior’s boyish call, squealing with giggles, saying “Daddy, daddy, daddy-”

None of it seemed right to you. Seeing his bright smile, now at the age where a new tooth fell out every other week—looking so goofy as he proudly shows the two of you the new one he’d just knocked out playing soccer at school. “Mommy, Daddy, look!”

What’s worse is that you can't even deny how good the man you hate is at it all—spoiling him with gifts and making him laugh—giving piggyback ride after air-plane flight after tickle-fight and a game of tag and hide’n’seek. 

And it’s not just the easy stuff. He’s good at the shit that used to make you go crazy—putting him to bed, getting him dressed, making him eat the right stuff, and not just scuffle down candy. It’s as if the two of them have developed a secret language you’re not a part of. If Junior weren’t a toddler, you’d even suspect he’d been bribed and told to do his best to make you lose your mind. But no, it’s just reality.

The man you live with drives and picks your son up from school as if he’d done it since he was born, goes with you to meet the teacher if and when he gets into trouble and helps the two of you pick out the right shoes—shoes that you can now afford, thanks to him.

“I thought I might sleep in the master bedroom tonight.” He says, leaning against the frame in the doorway.

You’d been living there a month now. He’d been generous enough to sleep in the guest room up until now.

You don’t know how to deny him. It feels as if anything you might say would just be ignored or threatened until you eventually took it back. You didn’t want him in your bed—you didn’t want him in the same house—in fact, preferably, you’d want him to be six feet deep in the dirt.

You end up not answering. But he’s used to that by now. 

“I get it…” he says, taking steps into the room you’d wrongfully thought was your safe space. “You don’t trust me.” He sits down at the edge of the bed and reaches out across the sheets. You’re too late to pull your feet to yourself before he has one in his hand. He doesn’t do much but stroke it. “But you can.”

The sincerity in his eyes makes you want to gouge them out. It’s all been some cruel joke ever since you moved in—all the pleasantries and presents, as if trying to distract you from the past. Your wardrobe is chockfull of it, and so is Junior’s room—filled to the brim with lies.

“I’m never gon’ hurt you.” Another lie. “I did you wrong once, and I’ll spend the rest of my life makin’ up for it.” 

You want to shake your head, laugh in his face—anything to reject it. But you’re terrified of what he might do if you didn’t play along. The threat of losing Junior is enough to make you cooperative.

“I know I’ve not been fair—pushin’ you into all of this so fast.” He gets down on his knees on the floor as if praying, right down beside you. “I took advantage of a vulnerable situation ‘cause I’m an impatient asshole—but I promise you—” He takes your hand in both of his. “If you give me the chance, I’m gon’ make our lives together like somethin’ outa’ a fuckin’ fairytale—all that happily ever after shit and more, just like you always wanted.”

The kiss he presses upon your knuckles beckons goosebumps to rise all across you. All his words feel like a bad script read by an even worse actor—in fact, this whole thing feels like a prank. And still, it doesn’t surprise you—he’s been laughing at you ever since you were children.

And now, laughing still, only with a fucking ringbox in his hand.

“I want Junior to see us as a united front. I don’t want him askin’ question why we ain’t sleepin’ in the same bed, why we fight behind locked doors, why you cry in the bathroom.” 

He pops the black velvet lid and reveals something so outrages it almost looks tacky lying there in a plush bed of red silk.

“I want us to be happy.” He picks the little thing out and holds it up between his thumb and index, still holding your hand in the other. “I want us to be real.” You can almost see your life flash before your eyes as it threatens your ring finger. “Let’s make us real.”

You don’t say anything as he eases the tiny hoop on, sliding it all the way back until it sits snugly right at your knuckle—dazzling in the dark. A tiny tear slips down your cheek—equally dazzling.

He played some with the digit—a smile on his face. 

“Looks good on you, Mrs.” As he calls you by his last name you almost shake the ring off as if it burned to wear, but it all gets lost when he rushes forward and locks his lips with yours.

You yelp against his mouth, kept from turning away by the large hand holding your jaw, threatening to seize your throat and squeeze. You remember how it had felt. You don’t want more of a reminder, so you intercept his tongue with yours before he forced it down your throat.

He groans at the warm welcome, and your entire body shudders in memory.

You hadn’t let anyone touch you since that time five years ago. It had left a poor taste in your mouth, and the hunger for it had never come back.

You choke it down now as he climbs on top. 

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Capture the Flag

luke castellan x reader

pt 2

A/N: now that i'm writing for other fandoms, feel free to let me know if you only want to be on a hotd taglist. But now, please enjoy the strongest swordsman in camp halfblood

TW: MAJOR SMUT, slight bondage, rough smut, violence, lowkey dark(ish)!luke

word count: 1,699 words

You want Luke Castellan’s head speared on your sword.

It’s like you spend every minute preparing for capture the flag because of him. He spends every last minute of each game cutting down your teammates and stealing your flag, so now it’s time to change the tactic. You ditch your father’s usual battle advice of going for the kill and hope that defence is the best offence for once. You also pray that he will guide your sword anyhow. So there you stand, guarding your flag with two of your most vicious teammates. You dodge the blue team’s first attack that was supposed to draw you off. You may have a short temper but you aren’t stupid. And you’re more than pleased to see the look of surprise on Luke’s face as he approaches.

“Fucking Ares kids.” He grumbles, sword drawn.

“Were you not expecting me, Castellan?” You ask with a vengeful smirk.

He goes right for you. You’re the biggest threat there but he likes to think you’re not even close to his skill level. You would believe that the man plans to cut you down and then your teammates. He always aims for the glory of it all.

“How’s your team gonna get our flag if you’re here?” He asks as he makes the first swing. It’s much better to start off on offence and he’s the one coming at you.

“Who cares. When you’re done, so is your team.” You block him, hating to be on defence but he’s too quick.

“Gods, you didn’t plan ahead of that? There really isn’t anything in that pretty little head of yours, is there? Other than rage of course.”

  You’re a hothead. He knows it. You know it and it doesn’t take much to rile you up. When you’re riled up, you get sloppy. At this point, you don’t care if he guts you, you go for the little fucker’s ankles. You’re actually surprised when he stumbles from blocking your attack. It’s a stupid mistake, especially for him. Though, you aren’t going to let a chance like this slip by. You keep pushing him back, trying to leave him no chance to think in between swings. He trips over a log behind him, the sword falling from his hand. He has no chance now, not on the ground and you won’t be letting him get up.

“Who’s the idiot now?” 

He looks at you as you approach slowly, taunting him. He then grabs his sword and makes a break for it. You’re too shocked to even keep him down.

What the fuck.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Luke Castellan run from a fight. Not in your 4 years at camp. So you chase after him.

He’s fast, faster than you but you push yourself. He trails away… and away. Then you lose him. 

“Godsdamnit!” You scream into the woods as you jog around where you last saw him. 

You know you can’t stray for long if you’re not fighting Luke so you turn to make your way back to the flag. That’s when he jumps out at you with his sword swinging. You barely have time to block and it puts you off your balance. He swings at you again and again. You fall as you continue to block the merciless strikes. You’re practically holding your sword in the air and hoping for the best. The best doesn’t come as the weapon flies from your hand. He descends on you, straddling your waist as he holds the blade to your throat. He’s smirking.

“You don’t try nearly hard enough.” He says to you. “I know you’re not very clever but hades, my teammates probably already have the flag over the barrier.” 

That’s when you realize how easily you were deceived. Luke didn’t run from you because you bested him; he ran to draw you off. It was a pathetically simple plan and it worked. The heat rises to your cheeks from humiliation. He grabs your two hands and pins them above your head, his grip gentle but also firm.

“I’ll put you in your grave.” You spit out at him.

“Will you now? While I have you essentially restrained?” He’s clearly amused.

You struggle beneath him with all your force but all you manage to do is roll your hips against him, earning a groan from the man. You feel it too, the burning ache between your thighs. You want him. Worse yet, he wants you.

“Let me up.” 

“No. I think you quite like how I have you pinned to the ground.” He smirks.

“You’re delusional.”

“You’re wet.”

He slips a knee between your thighs and rubs it against your clothed pussy. It takes everything in you not to whimper.

“S-Stop.” You stutter out.

“Make me.” He murmurs, continuing to make you grind down on his knee as he leans down and forces you into a hot kiss. You hate how you kiss back, so hungry for him. Your mind is clouded with lust for a moment before you realize the advantage he is giving you. You never technically conceded.

As swiftly as you can, you wrap your free leg around his waist and use your whole strength to throw him off you, startling him enough to free your hands.

“You bitch.” He groans as you jab him in the stomach to try and give yourself enough time to grab your sword but it doesn’t work. He grabs you by the ankle and yanks hard. You slam to the ground right on your stomach. He moves to restrain you by sitting on your thighs so you can’t move your legs and holds your hands behind your back. You clearly didn’t consider how inevitably stronger he is than you.

“Shit.” You whine. His hold isn’t nearly as gentle this time.

“That was a cheap fucking shot.” He says cruelly. He’s pissed now.

“Fuck you. Castellan!” Gods it goes straight to his dick when you call him by his last name. He grips your hair with his free hand and pulls back hard so you have to look at him. You whine again at the sharp pain.

“You just can’t play fair, can you, princess? Maybe I won’t either then.”

 He drops your head and you hear him rustling with something. You realize it’s his belt when you feel the leather against your wrists. He’s binding you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Your voice is full of rage but to him, you just sound petulant. 

 “What you need.” Is his simple answer.

He shifts down so he sits, or rather kneels, with your legs between his. He’s amused by your renewed writhing as an attempt to escape. It is pitiful really. Oh well, he’ll have you writhing for a different reason soon enough.

His fingertips glide across your waist, to your hips and then to your thighs, causing your back to arch upwards slightly, your stomach dipping. He brings his lips down to your ear, his voice is deep and lustful as he says, “Your body seems to know what it wants.”

“I’ll kill you.” You promise.

“Oh, i’m sure you will. But right now, you fucking belong to me.” He yanks on your hair again so you have to look at him and your eyes water from the pain. “I think you like me hurting you.” His other hand slips between your thighs to rub your clit and you let out a strangled moan. “For a girl who is so controlling, it’s interesting how badly you enjoy me manhandling you.”

He yanks your pants down and slips your helmet under your hips so your ass stays high in the air with your chest to the ground.

“This is fucked up.” You say.

“You love it. Your panties are soaked.” And he’s completely right. You’ve never been so turned on before but not a lot of men are as strong and good-looking as Luke Castellan.

He pulls your panties down and groans at the sight of your dripping pussy. He begins to palm himself through his pants and unzips them. “You have about three seconds to tell me if you don’t actually want this.”

You are silent and he chuckles. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

Before you can even prepare yourself or form a thought, his fat cock is shoved inside of you, splitting you open.

“Ah, Luke!” You moan at the pain and pleasure.

“Gods, this is the tightest little pussy i’ve had.” He begins to fuck in and out of you relentlessly, giving you no time to adjust. “Yeah, you’re good for me now, baby. Such a good little cocksleeve.” He punctuates his last words with hard thrusts, the head of his cock bullying into you each time.

All you can do is repeat his name like a mantra as you get pounded on the forest floor by the strongest swordsman in camp. It’s even worse as he begins to rub your clit again, sending you so close to the edge.

“Never gonna have enough of you after this.” Luke murmurs as he feels you squeezing around him. “My good girl.” 

That’s what sends you tumbling over the edge, bringing Luke with you as you do. He never could’ve kept going, not with the way your walls were squeezing around him. He pulls out almost instantly so he can watch his cum spill out of you. He doesn’t wipe it. He just pulls your panties back on and fixes the both of you up. You’re thoroughly spent, he can tell by the way you pant as he releases your wrists.

“You okay?” He asks as he helps you sit up. He grabs your hands so he can kiss the marks on your wrists. After all you’ve done, that’s the act that makes you blush furiously. 

“Um, yeah.” You breathe out.

“I’ll be nicer next time, I promise. Somebody just had to put you in your place first.” He grins wolfishly.

“Next time?” 

That’s when you hear the horn. The blue team has won again.

He pecks a kiss to your cheek. “Time to claim my kleos.” He says cockily before jogging off to meet his team.

taglist (comment to be added):General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi

[seresinhangmanjake]

The Harkonnen's Claim

Feyd-Rautha x Atreides!Reader

Summary: Your brother, Paul, took you from Feyd in a vulnerable moment, and if he wants the woman he loves back, he will have to give your brother something in return.

Notes/Warnings: this is part 2 of 2. Ignore canon ages in the timeline. I don’t know what they are, but everyone young is in their twenties, cool? Cool. Dune inaccuracies. Mention of pregnancy (present) and miscarriage (past). Jessica and Paul kind of (very much) suck. Feyd’s a soft boy for our reader. Smutty-ish (18+) and fluffy stuff, tidbit of angst. I'm sure there are spelling mistakes. I read it twenty times, but you know how it is. I think that’s it.

Words: 3300

Feyd Masterlist Part 1

You can’t see him—your eyelids are too heavy—but he’s shouting. Cursing. With each of his grunts glass shatters and metal clangs against the walls. Feminine voices are shrieking in sync with the rageful sounds coming from your lover and his actions. He is scaring them. He shouldn’t be scaring them. It isn’t their fault. 

“Get out!” he yells. 

More shrieks. Multiple pairs of feet rapidly shuffle about. The door slams and then Feyd is sitting beside you on the bed, one hand brushing your hair back from your forehead, the other rubbing up and down your forearm and pulling it onto his lap. 

“My love…” he says, “It’s ok. You’re ok.”

You swallow hard and peel open your eyelids to see his face hovering above you. A sigh leaves his lips when his eyes connect with yours.

“They were only here to help,” you mutter. 

Feyd bites down hard, sharpening the line of his jaw. He has much to say, you know, but he struggles to release his frustration in any manner other than shouting or fighting in the arena. Right now, he can’t do either.

“They did nothing to help,” he softly snaps. 

But he’s wrong. The women he brought in to examine you did exactly as they were told. It’s just that their conclusion upon taking a look at you was not what he, nor you, expected to hear. 

“Considering the excessive bleeding, she seems to have—” the woman paused; you could hear the tremble in her voice “—lost the baby, my Na-Baron. I’m very sorry.”

Neither of you has spoken about heirs or lineage or combining the genetics of Great Houses. You hadn’t even known of your pregnancy until you heard them tell Feyd that you are no longer carrying the child, and yet, you feel a tremendous loss. You instantly wonder what that child would have been. A boy? A girl? Would they have been a warrior like their father? Or more level-headed like their mother? Maybe a combination of both—that would probably be best for everyone.

“We’ll try again when you feel better,” Feyd tells you, leaning down and pressing his forehead into yours. 

Slowly closing your eyes, you reach a hand up to rest on the back of his neck, your thumb caressing between his ear and the curve of his jaw. “Feyd, we weren’t trying to begin with.”

“Does that mean we shouldn’t?” he asks. “You are meant to be the mother of my heir.”

You sigh. “Feyd–”

“You are,” he demands, but you can detect his hidden plea. “You will be.” 

—

They are scared of him—your son—or, at least, she is. 

With your ear pressed against the door, you can hear them in the halls. Mother and son arguing over your value. 

“Get rid of them, Paul, while you still can,” Lady Jessica implores him. “It’s in our best interest. You have no idea the kind of man she will raise that baby to be.”

But Paul has embraced his new role. There’s no hesitation in how he speaks to her anymore. His words are firm, but well-chosen. He truly was born to be a leader, just not the leader the Universe agreed on.  

“The boy will one day be the Baron, and by then, he will have grown stronger than most, his father included,” Paul confirms. “But we only benefit from having that on our side. From Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen’s need for my sister, an alliance will be formed that could last decades, maybe centuries. But if you harm her, he will come at us in a way his House never has before. And if he finds out you also took his child from him then he’ll spend the rest of his life hunting you, me, Alia…Chani…your future grandchildren—he won’t stop.”

Paul sighs. You can picture him running his hand through his curly locks. He’s done that ever since he was a child. From the moment his little hand could reach above his head, his fingers would be playing with that hair. His mother scolded him wherever he did it in front of the other families of great Houses. ‘Makes you appear anxious,’ she would say, and no son of hers was permitted to come off as anything but respectable in front of their equals. She knew of the man he would one day become. But her nagging didn’t help him in the end. 

“Paul, listen to m–”

“QUIET,” he commands in the Voice that seems to ripple through the halls. “You act as if I won that duel without effort. As if I could do it again in my sleep. But not only did he survive what should have killed him, he almost killed me,” he reminds her. “So do not let your hatred for my sister lead us down a vulnerable path.”

You pull your ear away from the door. How strange that you always knew she hated you and yet never heard it from anyone’s lips until now. You can’t say it hurts, but it does affirm that the only thing keeping you alive is the one thing you didn’t want to be: Feyd’s weakness. He’s saving you even though you’re out of reach. You and the baby he put inside of you. 

You run your hand over your clothed stomach. There’s no physical evidence of your pregnancy, but now that you know he’s there you can feel him…somehow. You feel his strength. You feel his grit. You feel what Lady Jessica fears, and you love it. You hope she lives in fear for many years, always keeping one eye on the half-Harkonnen child that her son commanded her to spare. 

The doorknob twists and you quickly back away as Paul steps into your bedroom. His brows pinch when he sees how you’re standing in the middle of the room. You’re not resting, you’re not admiring the scenery outside your window, there’s no book in your hand—you look suspicious. You can practically hear his thoughts. What were you doing, sister? 

“It’s time to go,” he tells you, stepping closer. You don’t have a chance to reply before the command “SLEEP” weaves into your brain. Your eyes close. Your body goes limp into your brother’s arms. Your mind shuts down. You’re gone. 

—

It’s bright. The inside of your eyelids are glowing the same orange shade as the flower your father traditionally gifted you on your birthday. It’s brighter than Caladan and Arrakis. A brightness you know only comes from Giedi Prime’s midday sun. 

You're moving but not by your own feet. Your eyelids flutter to adjust to your surroundings, and when they open, you find yourself tucked against a chest. An Atreides soldier, once your father’s, now sworn to serve your brother. 

“Put me down,” you mumble, but he doesn’t. “Put me down!”

“Put her down if she wants to be put down,” Paul says. “She won’t go anywhere. This is exactly where she wants to be.”

You’re set on your feet, but the soldier’s hand wraps around your bicep as the group comes to a halt. You do a quick glance around. Sixteen soldiers, suitably armed and shields activated. More on the ship likely, ready to attack if necessary. One Bene Gesserit bitch. One intended emperor with the skin of your brother. And you, anxiously awaiting him.

“Atreides!”

Feyd steps out of the Harkonnen fortress alone. He walks down the lengthy walkway alone. He has a blade at his hip, a shield, but no soldiers. You know they are somewhere, though, hiding, waiting for his call if needed.

As the distance between you lessens, tears attempt to blur your vision, but you blink them away. Your legs quiver, and you would collapse to your knees if not for the vice grip on your arm. He’s alive. He’s so beautifully alive. He’s broad, and strong, and he’s stomping toward your brother like a predator honing in on its prey. You didn't know for sure what he would look like after near death, and the last two weeks gave your mind the will to run wild, but he's perfect. Like it never happened.

“Paul, you must reconsider,” Lady Jessica whispers from behind him. “We do not need him.”

“I decide who and what we need,” he says. “My sister, my negotiations.”

She tips her head and steps back into place before shooting you a glare that you refuse to acknowledge.

Feyd is closing in, but his next step is deemed too close for Paul. Weapons are drawn. A blade presses into your neck. Feyd pauses. 

“Give me what's mine, Atreides!” he snaps. 

He’s seething and makes no attempt to hide it as he paces along the invisible line your brother has drawn. His brow is low, a shadow over the blue eyes piercing through Paul’s head. He hasn’t looked at you, but you know he won’t. Not directly. He already knows what your brother has over him and there’s no need to remind him by giving in to the internal panic he’s fighting. 

“Yours?” Paul returns. “She’s not yours yet, Harkonnen, so it would be wise of you to cooperate.”

Feyd practically growls, pale lips splitting to reveal black teeth as Paul gestures for you to stand beside him. The soldier shoves you forward and you turn to smack at his wrist. 

“I know how to walk,” you grumble. “Bastard.”

Paul clasps his hands behind his back. “You want her; that is understandable. She wants to be with you, too. You should have seen how she fell apart when she thought you were dead,” your brother taunts. His tongue clicks to make a tsking sound.

Feyd’s fingers twitch at his side, itching to grab the hilt of his knife. You know a layer of red bleeds across his vision. His thoughts are a jumble of demands bouncing around his skull. Kill. Maim. Destroy. Take what’s yours. But he can’t. And, excluding his uncle, Feyd hasn’t ever faced a situation where he can’t do as he pleases with whatever stands in front of him.

“Do not push him too far, Paul,” you mutter in warning. “He's not alone, either.”

Your brother ignores you, voice raising as he says, “And your son? You would like to have him as well, yes?”

The pacing stops. Feyd’s lips softly part. His eyes widen ever so slightly and he finally looks at you. When you lightly nod, his jaw clenches. 

Paul doesn’t miss the silent communication. “So,” he says, lifting his chin a half-inch, “are we calm now?”

Feyd inhales a deep breath and huffs it out through his nose. He does it again and again, chest puffing out then deflating like an animal desperate to strike. ‘Calm’ isn't exactly how you would describe him—good, you expect nothing less—but he’s not displaying the same heightened level of fury.

“What do you want, Atreides?” Feyd grunts.

“Loyalty,” Paul doesn’t hesitate to answer. “You are my cousin. You love my half-sister and the two of you will share a child, assuming you can behave yourself. Family should inherently be loyal to family, I believe. That’s a fair place to start.”

“To start?” Feyd spits. “Do not play with me, cousin. Tell me all that you want from me now.”

Paul’s lips curve in a slight smile. The same modest smile he used when greeting guests of your father’s. You have your own version of that smile. They are smiles capable of hiding secrets. Like the smiles you would give Lady Jessica in front of your father, and the smile Paul gave Princess Irulan when he formally claimed her hand days after the duel.

However, there are no secrets behind the smile this time. He knows exactly what he wants from your lover and takes pleasure in revealing the totality of it.

“This war is just beginning,” Paul tells Feyd. “The other Houses reject my leadership. You will not. You will make a public declaration that the Harkonnens will fight for me, alongside the Fremen,” he says. “If you refuse to fulfill this, I will return with every fighter I have. My sister will be our primary target and you will fail to protect her…again.”

The disrespect lingers in the air. To force a Harkonnen to kneel to an Atreides is a power Feyd once told you only you possess. But it appears Paul has forced an unexpected exception.

“There's nothing for you to debate, I imagine,” Paul says. “Not when it comes to the woman you love and your child.”

Paul gives a winning smirk at your lover’s silence—Feyd’s glare is answer enough. 

With a hand firmly on the center of your back, your brother guides you forward. “Go on,” he instructs. “There's no reason to keep him waiting.”

You turn your head back to Paul, expecting a trick, but when he nods in encouragement you rush over to Feyd in a light jog so as not to get tangled up in the skirts you can’t wait to tear off your body. A pale hand reaches out for you and curls around your waist when you’re close enough to be pulled against his chest. A kiss lands on your hairline before his forehead falls to rest on yours. 

“You're not hurt?” he asks. 

“I'm fine,” you promise him. 

“This will never have to become complex, Harkonnen,” Paul calls from his side. Your heads raise to look at him. “Your House now fights for mine. If loyalty is upheld, personal lines will not be crossed. In other words, your child and woman are safe from me as long as my empress, concubine, and children are safe from you.”

Feyd’s Adam’s apple bobs harshly with his hard swallow; another practice in tamping down his rage.

“I’m glad we can all walk away from this satisfied,” Paul continues, grinning ear to ear. “Except for my mother, of course. Were she given her way, my sister would be cut open on the floor and her womb ripped out of her. She doesn’t believe a Harkonnen can exercise restraint and respect agreements. I’m sure you’ll prove her wrong.”

Your dress tightens at your waist from Feyd’s fingers fisting into the material. “Keep your head,” you gently whisper. “Let him go.”

“You have three days to officially announce your allegiance,” Paul tells the two of you before turning to his ship. He enters first, followed by his mother who gives you a final look of disapproval, and then, two-by-two, his soldiers. Not until they’re a speck in the sky does Feyd place a hand on your cheek, guide your face to his, and seal his lips to yours. 

—

He intends to burn the dress to ash in the built-in incinerator that the Harkonnens consider a fireplace. Before now, you haven’t seen it demonstrate its purpose. Feyd refused. “We do not need that,” he would tell you, somewhat offended when you would request a bit more warmth in the middle of the night while he was next to you. He’d strip himself of any clothing he might’ve been wearing and tuck you into his side. “See? You’re fine now.”

Tonight, however, he’s quick to turn the thing on and let it heat up as he takes his knife to the back of your gown, slicing through the buttons that trace along your spine until the material slips off your body. He helps you out of the ring of destroyed fabric at your feet before wadding it into a ball and tossing it into the flames. 

Feyd hums, satisfied, then piece by piece the armor falls from his form until he’s bare with his body to yours, his lips sucking and nibbling, fingers kneading and exploring, cock easing in and out of your core. You cry as he bites into your neck, and soak in the moment for what it is compared to what it could have been had he not survived. How alone you would be. How distraught over what would become of you.

But he did survive. He’s here. You have him. His lips and teeth and touch and cock and heart—all yours. You have the warmth of his breath that brushes your face and neck and shoulders. You have his groans and moans; the perfect sounds he makes when he first enters you and when he cums. Everything you thought you’d lost is wrapped tightly in your arms. Safe. Protected.

He finishes inside of you twice, and as he begs for one more, the ache between your thighs tempts you to remind him he already got you pregnant. But when you study the tenderness in his eyes, your desire refreshes, the pain washes away, and you can’t get enough. You take until he can no longer give—when all he has the energy for is holding and kissing. 

Feyd leans over you in the bed, your legs intertwined under the sheets and his hand at the back of your head as his mouth moves with yours. 

“W-Wait,” you say between kisses. He hums against your lips and when you tilt your head back, he makes a noise of protest before joining them again. “I-I’m ser-ious.”

With his brow pinched, he pulls back to stare into your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth as you search for a delicate way to question the effectiveness of his new authority. “Feyd, what’s going to happen? What will everyone think?” you ask. “Your people? Your soldiers?”

“That’s what bothers you right now while in this bed with me?” You nod. He sighs. “I observed my uncle in his time as Baron. I’m capable of explaining these changes in a manner that will have them think nothing of it. Should an outlier take issue, they will face the known consequences. The rest will do as I command,” he says, emphasizing his words with another kiss. “Just as they will do as you command and as our son will one day command.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be silly. No one on Giedi Prime will listen to me,” you tell him. “My voice doesn’t mean anything to them.”

“They'll respect the voice of their Baroness.” 

Your brows raise. “Your wife?”

Feyd smirks and dips his head into the curve of your neck to lick and suck at sensitive skin. “Do you have objections, my love?”

It would be a lie to say you haven’t imagined being Feyd’s wife. It didn’t occupy your every thought, but it crossed your mind. Like when he would pluck out the eyes of the men who leered at you or remove the tongues of those who scoffed when you spoke. Or when you would watch him sleep and his face was unable to maintain the hard, stony stare that he brought back with him after dealing with his uncle. He’d be serene, the epitome of peace, and it was so lovely that sometimes you couldn’t help yourself. You would kiss his puffy lips until he woke to reciprocate, which led to him spreading your legs wide and stuffing his hard column of flesh between your folds. His ability to be gentle in his cruel world was how you knew he would be a good husband—to you, anyway. You have no idea the fate of his marriage were there a different bride.

His tongue runs over the bite mark and you gasp. “N-No.”

Lips trail along your jawline as his hand slides from the base of your neck between the valley of your breasts to settle on your stomach. 

“He'll be strong,” Feyd says, looking at you. “Our boy.”

You chuckle. “Stronger than you, I heard.”

Feyd swallows, then nods in acceptance. “Good. He’ll need to be,” he says, thumb stroking just above your navel. “The only Atreides my son will answer to is his mother.”

A/N: i'd be open to doing future fics for them if anyone is interested. you can send in requests if you want, no pressure. I have a different feyd fic in the works atm as well

@unicoreads @haehwasworld @moonsoulk @lothiriel9 @landlockedmermaid77 @vintageroses10 @mamawiggers1980 @mrsjobarnes @aoi-targaryen @buckysteveloki-me @pao-prazz @skel-skell @barnes70stark @pekusofixus @vanilla88 @niragiswhore @benwishaw

[bunnys-kisses]

all bark, no bite

max verstappen - team principal au

tags: smut/pwp, halloween fic, costumes (reader dresses as a puppy), collars, team principal!max, driver!reader, age gap (20s/40s), power dynamic, semi-public sex, quiet-ish sex, clothed sex, dirty talk

a/n: have a happy halloween, i'm writing more team principal au, if you have any suggestions for future installments, please send them to me. i love hearing what ya'll come up with!!

"you are not going to the party like that." you felt like you were being scolded by your father rather than your boss. you made a face and looked over to see your team principal near by.

you stuck your tongue out, "too bad." then started to walk further away from your driver's room and towards the exit. but, you didn't get far, not while your boss had a longer stride than you.

he captured your wrist and pulled you back, closer to him. in your heels, you staggered backwards. you looked up at him and frowned. he said, "i said, you're not going out like that."

"i don't have another costume." you bit back.

max made a face, "go as a verstappen racing fan. i don't know. but i'm not having you cause a scene because you decided to dress like a whore."

you had a complicated relationship with your team principal. you had seen the jokes over the years of tps having interesting dynamics with drivers, even drivers not on their team. you had even seen memes about your own dynamic with max verstappen.

if only they knew.

he had you pinned to his chest, with his hand on your wrist as he examined your neck from the odd angle. he clicked his tongue and said, "what is this costume even supposed to be?"

you replied, "a puppy."

"a puppy, huh? usually puppies have some manners. they at least look a little apologetic when their owners are mad at them." he sad as he used his other hand to touch at the collar around your neck, "you're not very apologetic towards me."

"you're not my owner."

he replied, "you may not have my name around your neck. but you have my logo across your pretty tits every time you race. i'd say that's about the same thing." you are max verstappen were intimate in a way that would send the press into a heated frenzy. you gave him racing results and he gave you the world.

but he had such a possessive streak through him. a jealous old man. you whined when he held onto your throat a little tighter. you shifted a little under his touch.

he leaned in to kiss you on the lips and squeezed the collar a little, thus squeezing your throat. he groaned, "if you wanted me to fuck you on halloween, you only had to ask." he held on a little tighter.

there was no one else around. there wouldn't be. halloween was on a thursday, practice didn't start till tomorrow. you eventually ended up on the transport boxes with the skirt of your dress hiked up.

you were dressed like a dalmatian, except anyone could make out the shape of your body. max had expectations for you as a driver for his team. he knew what it was like to be young with the world at your fingertips. he was meant to guide you. especially with how everyone recorded anything.

"hoping to get lucky tonight, puppy?" he asked as he pushed the dress up, exposing the thin, white cotton panties underneath. he licked his lips, "we could've gone back to my hotel room and played all night. fetch, tug-o-war, maybe you'd even get a bone by the end of the night." he licked his lips.

your face flushed and you shifted against the metal and plastic of the boxes. the surface was uneven and left your back feeling sore. this felt so public, it wasn't in the most excluded area. you swallowed, "oh my god, shut up." and whined when he kissed at your neck. your panties were around your ankles.

and when he kissed you, you heard the clink of his belt buckle and the zip of his jeans. he loomed over you. he was boarder than you, he could easily overshadow and overpower you. you whined when you felt his cock rub up against your slick entrance.

he said, "aw, look at that. they're kissing." he was talking about his sticky cock up against your slick pussy. the blunt head up against your clit. it made you feel a rush of pleasure through you.

you could feel the excitement, the risk of it all. if some stray reporter came through here or a security guard. you knew what the headlines for the weekend would be.

young, promising driver takes a ride on her team principal.

he sank into your sweet cunt and your ached your back. you let out a small noise and max put a hand over your mouth. your nose was left uncovered so you could breath. his other hand was on your thigh as he rocked against you. he said in a low voice, "you know i love when you're loud, but you have to to stay quiet. you can be a good puppy, right? be a good girl for me."

his praise made something bloom in your stomach as he moved against you. you had a total kink for his praise, that was why you always pushed yourself so hard on the track. it was why you were over a hundred points ahead of the second place racer. you thrived off of it, to have someone like max give you praise.

you moaned against his hand, your voice muffled as he rocked against you. his cock slotted in you so well. you exhaled deeply through your nose. you couldn't feel your headband anymore and hair got in your face as he fucked you in such a public space.

"fuck." he groaned, "you have no idea what you do to me.' he moved against you further, "i never know i liked costumes. maybe next year, you should go as me." he chuckled as he curved over you and got at a deeper angle, "but i sort of like you in a collar better."

you groaned and reached for his shoulders. you clutched onto his shoulder tightly. his cock hit up against the softest parts of you and it made you see stars. you panted heavily and tried to keep quiet even though max's hand was good at muffling most of the noise.

you pretty painted black nails dug into his shoulders through the verstappen racing t-shirt he wore. you looked good with his logo across your chest, but he looked just as nice in a black t-shirt.

hunger ran through you as he fucked your feverishly. there was no time for tenderness. while he loved taking you apart with his tongue and fingers. there really was no time to waste.

you felt the heat on your body, your costume stuck to you in a weird way. the blank tag on your collar bounced with the movements of your boss' thrusts. something about this felt wrong, it was wrong. you were certain there had been casual affairs throughout the decades of formula one.

but nothing quite like this. the protege of one of the greatest being fucked by her boss. your pretty tits bounced with a whorish movements as she got railed in the paddock of her team. quite the scandal if it got out.

most thought you fucked your way to the top. but, in all fairness, max saw how you drove before he saw the sway of your hips. he valued your skill more than your ability to suck his cock or take his thick fingers in your slick pussy.

you were his champion, sex was just a component of it. he took your virginity, and you gave him the points he needed to win. you tightened your legs around him as he continued to drill his cock into you. the pace increased as you felt the swarm of pleasure in your head.

you weren't going to the party tonight. you could already tell.

"next time." he said, "i'll get you a proper collar. something a little more padded. with a tag with my name on it. if you're going to be my puppy then, you'll have to look the party. don't worry about a tail or ears. you'll do just fine in lacy lingerie that i can tear off with my teeth."

you swallowed, your cunt clenched around him as he continued to fuck you with a heavy pace. your felt any sense go out your ear, fully engulfed by the heat between you two. max knew how to make you feel good, he knew exactly how to get your yearning for more. if you were a puppy then he was the big, bad wolf.

you whined around his hand and he pressed his palm further against you. he shushed you and held onto your hip tighter as he thrusted against you. he watched your eyes roll a little from the pleasure of the entire situation.

he could feel the leap in his chest and the sweat on his back. he didn't often fuck you in such a public place. but he couldn't help himself. you got to prance off to some luxury party hosted by drivers of another team. you were going to be with liquor, boys and whatever else money could buy.

of course he was going to be concerned about his darling driver. his superstar. after all, he had high expectations for you. you were going to be the best if you weren't already. and he wasn't going let you ruin it over some cheap shots and boys with small packages. he knew you needed someone older, someone like him.

the pace became faster, erratic with little formalities. there was little rhythm to it as his cock kissed the hottest parts of you. the parts that made you pant under his hand. your gaze became unfocused and your blood pumped in your ears.

you clutched onto him and whined something that max couldn't hear. he replaced his hand with his lips. the kiss was hot as you held onto him tightly. it was all too much, the pleasure crossed through you like a heated sword and you came around his cock.

he groaned when you clenched around him. your nails dug into his skin. it only fueled his need to fuck you harder. while not the most ideal position. he'd make due. when you broke the kiss, you panted heavily with your gaze unfocused. you looked whorish, but max loved it.

the pace continued, and max made sure that your body was wracked with more lust as he continued to fuck you. he cursed in dutch under his breath as he gave it a few more thrusts before he finished inside of you.

you both moaned a little louder than you hoped for. you leaned forward against him. your pressed your cheek against his clothed chest as you tried to catch your breath.

max composed himself quickly and combed his fingers through your hair tenderly. he groaned, "good, puppy."

you looked up at him and asked, "can i go to the party tonight?"

he chuckled and patted your cheek with a little force. he chuckled, "cute. no, no. you're going to get your messy panties back on and we're going back to the hotel. i'm not letting a good puppy like you get into trouble." he pinched your cheek which made you whine.

"plus, i think you need some more training."

-

the following morning, your teammate was walking through the paddock beside you. the two of you were chatting, but your stomach dropped when he looked over and noticed something over one of the boxes.

you two stopped and before your teammate could say a word. your teammate pointed at the headband. you felt a cold sweat as he asked, "are those... dog ears?" then looked at you, "those look like the ones you were supposed to wear to the party last night... you never came to that."

you chuckled nervously, "well, i got tired... but mine are in my hotel room." you heard whistling and looked over to see your team principal walking by. you called for max, "max, isn't my costume in my hotel room."

he perked up and looked over. he pointed to the headband on the box and replied, "oh no.. those are yours." your boss broke into a grin. and your eyes went wide as he walked away.

you could feel your ears burn as your teammate asked.

"where were you last night anyway?" <3

this is part of the max verstappen team principal au

[luvsupa]

“PRINCE GOJO?!”

tags: fem!reader x prince! gojo satoru, childhood enemies to lovers (eventually), slow burn, bully!gojo, angst, royalty, lots of tension, smut-ish, kissing, gojos very cocky, there will be multiple parts to this! mdni.

w.c: 2.7k (sorry)

a/n: THANK U ALL FOR THE SUPPORT!! I had to make a different blog bc my old one @luvsupas was not working :(( so this is my new blog !! (I’ll be reposting the sukuna fics soon)

part 2!

the grand halls of the gojo estate echoed with the quiet elegance of centuries-old tradition. white and blue hues filled the castle, weaving through the curtains and tapestries. each door bore the rich blues of the family crest with gold accents.

this year, the gojos have invited your family to spend the season at the estate—a common occurrence given the close relationship between your families. however, this is the first time they have personally invited you. usually, your parents would spend the warm season at the gojo palace while you remained in your quarters, convincing them each year that you had more important activities to tend to. little did they know of your personal dislike for gojo satoru.

growing up, you and satoru never got along. he always belittled you and excluded you from activities. as you both reached your mid-teens, your bickering became more extreme. he would embarrass you during family dinners and important gatherings. initially, you thought he might have feelings for you until he and his friends humiliated you with a fake confession. just as he leaned in to kiss you, you found yourself pushed into the garden pool, their laughter echoing around you. that day hurt more than any argument you had ever had with him. you felt a sense of freedom when satoru and his family moved estates to a bigger palace, as if the old one wasn’t big enough.

walking behind your parents, you are stopped by the guards who open the double doors to the drawing room. inside, you see satoru’s parents already engaged in conversation, which halts as the doors open. “your majesties,” your parents say as you all bow slightly in respect.

“please, no need for formality!” the queen, satoru’s mother, says, embracing you in a warm hug. her bright blue eyes catch your attention, her royal blue gown making the color pop, similar to satoru’s eyes.

soon, the king, satoru’s father, and your father are deep in their own conversation, while your mother and satoru’s mother catch up, leaving you alone in the gigantic room, observing and listening. you begin to wonder where satoru would be—

“you’ve changed since i last saw you! adulthood suits you well,” satoru’s mother compliments your appearance, interrupting your thoughts. “thank you, your majesty,” you respond, quickly apologizing for the formality at her glare.

“satoru will attend tomorrow’s gala,” she continues, and your ears perk up at his name. “he’s been studying abroad, and it’s perfect timing for his return!” the queen informs you. how did she know you were curious about his whereabouts?

as the conversation winds down, the king informs you all that your rooms are prepared, allowing you to get comfortable in your temporary home.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

as night falls and the estate quiets down, you busy yourself unpacking, trying to make your new room feel like your own.

just as you’re almost finished, the grand doors slam, followed by cheers and applause. did i miss the gala? you hurry out of your room, following the noise to the grand staircase. from the top, you see gojo’s parents, guards, and servants clapping—there he is, his tall figure embracing his mother and father, basking in their affection.

quickly and quietly, you retreat, hoping to avoid any interaction with gojo. but on your way back to your room, you bump into your parents. “oh, there you are, darling. we were just looking for you to welcome satoru home!” your mother says, guiding you down the stairs despite your resistance. “i can’t—i’m not dressed in formal attire,” you protest, glancing down at your pajama gown. “nonsense, dear. wear my robe. you must greet him,” your mother insists, wrapping her silk golden robe around you as you descend the steps.

you curse yourself for leaving your room. this cannot be happening. “our little prince, we’ve missed you!” your mother exclaims, nudging you towards satoru. he greets your parents warmly, but when his eyes land on you, his demeanor shifts. he ignores you at first, addressing your parents with practiced charm.

you stand there, awkward and tense, as the one person you despise charms your parents. suddenly, he grabs your hand, his touch both surprising and unwelcome. “it’s been a while, hasn’t it, my lady,” he says with a disingenuous smile, softly kissing your hand. you stand there, slightly pouting, stunned by his audacity. then he leans in, his breath warm against your ear, “did you want me to kiss that pout like before, hmm?” his tone is condescending, followed by a dark chuckle.

you gasp as embarrassment floods your senses, old humiliations resurfacing. you shove him away, and he stumbles back, drawing your mother’s attention. she starts to scold you, but he intervenes smoothly. “don’t worry, it was a playful shove, wasn’t it, my lady?” his blue eyes lock onto yours, and you feel the weight of everyone’s gaze. “i’m sorry, i don’t feel well. goodnight,” you manage to say, rushing up the stairs and into your room, praying for the season to end quickly so you can escape his presence.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

as the morning light floods the room, you’re met with bright sun rays directly in your eyes, eliciting a groan of distress. the thought of last night’s events churns your stomach in embarrassment. pushing aside the memories, you get dressed for breakfast to join the mothers calm breakfast outside.

approaching your mother and gojo’s mother, they turn their attention to you, their expressions lighting up with amusement and boosting your ego.

“how beautiful! It’s delightful to have breakfast with you two!” gojo’s mother remarks, her eyes shifting between you and behind your figure. two? your smile fades as you turn to see satoru standing behind you—ego crushed. walking together to the dining table, you take your seats across from each other. how much worse can this morning get?

“we were just discussing the gala happening tonight. this will be good upon arrival, ‘toru,” his mother explains. tou notice his visible annoyance at the nickname. he doesn’t like being called ‘toru—noted. you sit in silence, quietly eating the food prepared by the hardworking chefs. just as you’re enjoying your meal, you hear an obnoxious squeal, “my prince! you’re finally back!” all four of you turn towards the noise. a beautiful tanned skinned woman draped in a lilac gown, runs towards your table as her maid struggles to keep up.

you watch her movements, as she runs straight to satoru, tears filling her eyes. she jumps into his lap, smothering him with kisses. the entire scene makes you wish you had never attended. without any shame, they engage in a heated make-out session in front of everyone. satoru opens his eyes to see your visible shock as he smiles into the kiss, while still maintaining eye contact with you.

the queen coughs, breaking the moment. the unknown woman apologizes to the queen without looking, maintaining her gaze on satoru. “ruru, I missed you so much! we should go up to your quarters soon,” she whispers, but unfortunately, you hear. “ayana, that’s enough. my mother was discussing the gala tonight,” satoru replies, disregarding her request as she pouts. so that’s her name.

“hello, your majesty. I apologize for my behavior; I haven’t seen satoru in so long!” ayana formally apologizes to the queen and everyone who had to witness that display. gojo adjusts her position, propping her up on his lap with her back against his chest. as gojo’s mother looks annoyed from the interruption, but she continues where she left off.

as breakfast continues, you try to focus on the discussion about the ball, but it’s impossible to ignore the tension radiating from across the table. satoru’s voice is low, murmuring something to ayana that makes her giggle. your curiosity piqued, you glance up- and nearly choke on your food.

satorus hand is shamelessly sliding up ayana’s thigh, disappearing beneath her dress. her breath hitches, a soft gasp escaping her lips but her eyes are locked onto you. he’s doing this on purpose, you realize. the sick twist in your stomach intensifying. he continues fingering her under the table as she’s holding back from releasing a loud moan, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches your reaction.

your heart pounds in your chest as he continues his sinful acts publicly. you abrubtly push your chair back, catching the attention from everyone as you quickly excuse yourself, standing up on shaky legs. satorus eyes follow you, a triumphant gleam as ayana clings to him, her giggles haunting you as it echos in your ears.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

you’re getting ready for the long-awaited ball, adorned in a gown that perfectly complements your skin tone. as you make your way to the drawing room, you realize you're ready before anyone else, which allows you to kill time and explore the estate. eventually, you find yourself in the grand library, which is far larger than you anticipated. a beautiful fireplace is placed near a cluster of chairs, offering a cozy spot for reading. browsing the bookshelves, you find yourself drawn to scientific novels that capture your interest.

“library’s not your usual scene, sweetheart. did you get lost on the way to the ballroom, or are you trying to impress me with your newfound scholarly interest?”

you quickly turn around at the voice. great. “trying to impress you? I have better things to do than seek validation from someone like you,” you spit back. he steps closer to you, and you already hate the proximity between you two.

“feisty, aren’t we?” he continues to walk closer, both of you now toe-to-toe as you look up at him, his towering presence looming over you. “you’re still the same girl I used to taunt,” he mocks with a fake pout, his voice dripping in condescension.

he closes the space between you, his warmth radiating off his body as you inhale his rich, masculine scent. “used to follow me around like a lost puppy—always trailing around, desperate for my attention. how pathetic.”

your jaw clenches with frustration, but you refuse to show him how much his words affect you. “maybe I did back then,” you retort, your tone laced with defiance. “but that was long ago. I see you exactly for who you are, satoru—someone who gets off on belittling others.”

his laughter rings out, grating on your nerves. he leans in, your faces dangerously close, your lips almost touching. “am I now?” he smirks, a look you want to slap off his face. “but deep down, you still crave my attention, don’t you? admit it, darling.”

his eyes flicker between your lips and your eyes, and you’re betraying yourself- slowly leaning in to kiss someone you so desperately hate—

“ruru! where are you? I hope you’re dressed!”

you’re the first to move back, breaking whatever spell he had you under. you look up at him in fear, while he looks at you with amusement. he has you wrapped around his finger, and you both know it. with a final smirk, he leaves to find ayana, leaving you alone in the library with so much to process.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

as you composed yourself and caught a breather, you exited the library and made your way to the ball room. the grand space was adorned with vintage antiques, paintings, a live orchestra, and all the opulence one would expect from a gojo event. the ballroom teemed with more people than you anticipated, their gowns and suits a beautiful contrast against the castle backdrop.

feeling nervous, you scanned the room, seeing your parents conversing with the king and queen. the refreshment bar catches your attention and make your way to the bar as you help yourself to a cool drink. suddenly, you felt a presence too close for comfort behind you. turning, you see ayana.

“you’re ruru’s friend, right?” she said, eyeing you up and down.

“ehh, I wouldn’t really say—" you began, but she cut you off.

“well, he’s told me so much about you! especially before he started his studies!” she informed you, causing your heart to skip a beat. he talks about me? “ahh good things I hope,” you reply with an awkward chuckle at the end.

“good? oh no, honey! he was always telling us how obnoxious you were, driven by your hopeless feelings for him,” she continued with a smirk.

oh.

“I’m very amazed at how you still came to see him despite your little feelings. after all, him and I are together,” she said, trying to flaunt her status. your mood shifted, and the desire to leave resurfaced. she rambled on, recounting embarrassing moments you wished were never brought up, as you zoned out of her relentless gossip. suddenly, your conversation was abruptly interrupted. finally.

“ladies and gentlemen,” one of the guards loudly caught everyone’s attention, silencing the room. “welcome back your prince, gojo satoru.”

as corny as it could get, gojo walked in with full confidence, the center of attention as the room filled with cheers and clapped for his arrival. internally scoffing, you discreetly made your way to the doors leading to one of the gardens, exiting the ballroom to avoid his speech.

taking in the scenery of the fountain and lush greenery, the orchestra continued playing, indicating gojo had finished his welcome speech. “not interested in what I have to say?” an annoying voice pierced through from your peripheral vision. you were so fed up with the past events that you just stared at him in annoyance.

“what troubles you, darling? do you seek my attention now?” his voice dripped with a sly undertone, causing your jaw to clench in frustration.

“I’ll see you inside, prince gojo,” you replied through gritted teeth, your tone dripping with bitterness. with a curt nod, you turned away, walking back to the ballroom, leaving gojo stunned for the first time—not by you leaving him alone, but by addressing him with such formality. it was always satoru.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

part 2!

[oval3000]

Yandere CEO Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warning: Toxic behavior, age gap, Violence, death, daddy kink, very toxic, smut, porn with a little plot, grumpy Miguel. Modern au- ish. The reader understands Spanish.

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Prologue: Your mother was the type of mother who would move from boyfriend to boyfriend. She could never keep a man on her hip for a long period of time, which was one of the reasons why your father was hardly present (he passed away when you were young anyway). Every time she got a boyfriend, she would forget that you're her daughter and would always choose the man over you. When she told you about her new boyfriend, you were over it. Nothing's new here. When you first met Miguel, you honestly didn't bother to learn a lot about him or to remember his name; however, he stuck the longest. You were quite surprised when you saw him more often. When you entered your freshman year of college, that's when she announced that Miguel wanted the both of you to move in with him.

You weren't too thrilled, but you were happy that your mom was getting serious about this. Besides, Miguel seems to be a nice gentleman. As the CEO of a science company, it was very impressive that your mom caught someone like him. He had manners and was humble about his success. He wasn't the type of rich man who would spend a lot of time partying and drinking; he was laid-back and spent more time in his office. You also hardly ever see him smile. Not seeing him smile made you wonder about the relationship between him and your mom. Three months after moving in, your mom's old habits came back. She would go out and party with her friends. She would drink wine every now and then. You know she makes bad choices when she drinks alcohol, so when you saw her coming home late and drunk, you were disappointed. She acted like a high school girl, which made you feel embarrassed. A lot of people would tell you to give your mom a break and that having a child can be difficult, so you shouldn't judge a mother for having 'fun'. But when you were little, she was late to pick you up from school because she was too busy at the mall with her friends; it made you feel unnoticed. Or when she would miss your school events when they gave you an award for what you're good at because she was too hungover from last night's fun; it made you feel unwanted. Or when one of her boyfriends dragged you outside of the house because you didn't want to leave so they could have some 'alone time' and your mom yelled at you for not listening, it made you feel unloved. Sure, moms have a right to live their lives, but they also have a responsibility to care for their children.

Your mother never really had a job growing up; the both of you relied on money from the man she would be with. This caused your grandparents to yell at your mom when you were little, telling her that she needed to grow up and get a job. Your mom would reply by saying that she never chose this life, and now that she's in it, she could do whatever she pleases. So to be fair, it's not that shocking that she got involved with a rich guy like Miguel.

Sadly, you can say that your concerns were right. You were in your bedroom. After a year of staying at a luxurious house, you are now sitting in your new bed, hearing an argument between your mother and her boyfriend downstairs. The first time you ever heard them argue was at the moment Miguel caught your mom sleeping with other men.

"You're working all the time, so obviously I'm going to get bored here!" your mother yelled at Miguel.

"Oh, so sleeping with other men while I provide for you is totally acceptable, my bad," Miguel argued back.

"Please is not like you would do the same!" Your mom's hands were flying in the air.

He pointed to her with his eyebrows forward and his eyes getting dark. "No, I wouldn't! Unlike you, I have morals."

"Really!? How about that day I caught you doing you know what!" Ah, yes. The day she caught him doing something quite interesting. "Oh whatever, I'm going out. Besides I have a new man who knows how to pleasure me." You could hear the front door slam loudly. Did your mom leave? Did she leave without telling you? Did she leave you alone with her now ex-boyfriend? Is Miguel no longer in your life?

You looked out and saw, with the little opening from your door, Miguel going back and forth from his bedroom back downstairs. You really make out what you can see, but it was clear that he was carrying out suitcases. Most likely your mom's things. Does this mean you have to move out as well? Do you need to start packing? You got up from your bed as Miguel was entering back to his bedroom pinching the bridge of his nose. "Did my mom leave."

He turned around giving you the usual expression he has. "Um....y-yeah she did."

"I'm sorry, I'll leave as soon as possible I'll just pack my things." You were about to enter your room when Miguel stopped you.

"No!" You stopped your tracks and turned to him. "no...I mean. Stay. I don't know where your mom left and I won't like it if you're out there alone. So stay."

You gave him a nod, "O-okay."

It's been five months since your mother left you with her ex-boyfriend. You tried contacting her, but all the calls and text messages were left hanging. You have no clue where she went. Did she actually forget about you? Was she so caught up with her own drama that she forgot about her daughter? Yes, you're an adult, but she left you living with a stranger.

The communication between you and Miguel has been dry. Well, they're always dry. At times during dinner, it would be quiet that no one spoke. Most times, while he's busy at his office, it'll just be you eating alone. You immediately felt guilty that you were using his money, so you quickly got a part-time job so you didn't have to rely on him. You don't really plan to live with him forever, right?

One day after you finished your classes, you decided to go on an apartment hunt. You really felt more comfortable moving out. You have no business living there. Luckily, you're able to find a small, affordable place to live. Not ideal, but you'll take whatever seems fit.

It was close to your college and it was perfect for one person, which is all you need.

When you went back, you couldn't seem to hide the happy smile on your face that you couldn't see Miguel sitting on the couch in the living room." What are you so happy about?" He questioned.

His voice caught you off guard it made you jump a bit. "sorry, I didn't see you there. Um...I found a place to live, so I would be out of your hair soon." You placed your book bag down on the floor.

He got up from the grey leather slate couch and walked towards you. His white dress shirt could barely hide all his muscles, especially with a few buttons undone, revealing more of his tanned chest. "You didn't have to do that, mi amor."

"Well, I can't live here forever and you are going to move on soon so-" You couldn't even finish your sentence.

"When I told you to stay, I meant it." His hand caressed the side of your arm. " Estas tan hermorsa, mi amor. (You're so beautiful, my love)." He grabbed your chin to lift your head up so your eyes could meet his. His touch made you feel some type of way. His serious look made you feel something. You shouldn't feel this. This isn't okay. He shook his head lightly, "How can you afford your own place?"

"I- I got a part-time job and I've been saving up." You took a step back, but only for him to follow you more in. "I just don't see why I have to stay here. My mom is not here and the only reason why I'm here is because of her."

"Let me take care of you." He leans in closer to you. "Let me be with you." His last words were a faint whisper that you couldn't hear it well.

"Miguel, I don't think this is appropriate?" You moved your head to the side, walking away from him. "It's best if I move. I don't think this is right."

"Stay." He says.

"No, I can't." You reply to him with his back turned to you.

He turned to you. "Please stay."

You looked around the house. "It's the best for the both of us if I move out of here. One day, you'll get a girlfriend." Miguel closed his eyes and shook his head."..And..I'll get a boyfriend."

He quickly made his eye gaze to look at you and with a swift speed, he walked up to you. "Boyfriend?" His speed made lose your breath a bit. Your body tense up at how tall his structure is. "Is that why you wanted to move out? You have a boyfriend."

You looked at him confused. Why does he seem bothered by this? you thought. "huh?- No. I mean, not now at least. But I will eventually. Just like how you'll get a new partner."

"No. I won't allow that to happen." He grabbed the side of your arms a bit harshly.

"M-Miguel?" You breathed out.

"You aren't moving out. You aren't leaving here, and you're certainly not going to have a fucking boyfriend." Miguel leaned into your ear saying all of these things to you and you felt completely frozen.

You placed your hands on his chest and pushed him off a bit so you could get out of his strong grip. You walked away from him so far that you felt the big bookcase behind your back. "What's the matter with you! You're my mom's ex-boyfriend. You're older than me. You aren't the boss of me and you are not going to shove me around like the others!" You felt your eyes get glossy. Your eyes opened wide with now hearing everything you had said. You shouldn't treat him like this. He has given you shelter and food. Without him offering you to stay, you'll be homeless right now. "I...I'm sorry...I didn't mean to"

Miguel felt his hands forming a tight fist. "Like the others?"

"No, I don't know what I'm talking about" You palmed your head trying to fix the situation.

He walked closer to you. He didn't break eye contact with you. "Has anyone ever hurt you?" You didn't say anything back which made him frustrated. "Answer me."

You looked up and realized how close he was to you. No matter how far you get away from him, he seems to always find a way to be close to you. "N-no. It's stupid. Just forget what I said. I'll move out and none of this ever happened okay."

"It's not okay! You're. Not. Leaving. Now tell me what you mean by others or I swear I'll do something you won't love." He looked at you with anger in his eyes. He's a very intimidating man. The most intimidating man you ever met. He held your wrist with one of his hands while his eyes were filled with hatred.

You felt your body tremble with his presence." Y-yes. But it wasn't constant. It was just when one of my mom's ex-boyfriends got angry they took it out on me. It's not bad and it's not serious. Please let go of me."

Miguel took a deep breath before letting you go. "I'm not like the others."

"You sure act like them." You said, but instantly regretted it.

"Mi amor, be careful about what you're going to say next. I really, really don't want to hurt you. So please, be a good girl and do whatever I fucking tell you." Miguel lifts his chin up making his statue be more bigger and taller.

"Why can't I leave? Wouldn't it be easier if I left? I won't cause you any more problems if I leave." You plea to him trying to get reason with him.

He walked away from you, throwing his hands around. "Por dios! that's enough about you leaving! I don't want to hear it anymore!" He screamed at you making you feel weak.

"I was wrong about you. I thought that you were good, but I was wrong. You're just like her ex-boyfriends. All of you!Jerks! Now I understand why she did what she did!" You felt your body tremble with how slowly he was walking back to you.

"If you think bringing up that bitch of your mother is going to get me mad then you are wrong. I! Don't! Care! About her! I'm glad that bitch left." He towered over you, "Now, comparing me to those low-life fucking men, you really just want to push my buttons, sweetheart."

"I hate you!" You felt a small speck of tears falling down in the corner of your eyes, feeling it rolling down your cheek.

"Hate me all you want, it won't change the fact that you are staying no matter what. You aren't leaving me." He grabbed both of your wrists pulling you closer to you. He gripped your face, pinching both of your cheeks with his fingertips. "You. Are. MINE!"

He dragged you back to his bedroom. You kept kicking and screaming, but he didn't care, he kept dragging you to his bed. "Please let go of me! I'm sorry!" You begged him to let you go. He opened his bedroom door and pulled you in holding your waist. He threw you on top of the bed. He shut the door and locked it. You quickly pulled yourself together using his pillows as a shield. "Please don't hurt me! Please!" you sobbed.

He grabbed your ankles and pulled you down, sliding you near the edge of the bed. He separated your legs apart and got between them. His eye contact wasn't breaking off with you, following your head movements all around. He grabbed your face again to make you look at him more clearly. "You're gonna behave?" You nodded feeling the hot tears rolling down. "You'll do what I say. You will live here. You will become my wife and you will be mine. End of story."

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The sound of the hot oil and vegetables sizzling filled the entire kitchen. The sound of the front door opening and closing made the chef hurry and place the finished food onto two plates. The chef fixed his white apron and stood by the dining room table with the food ready to be eaten. He saw Miguel waking in wearing his black blazer with his white dress shirt. "Sir, the food is ready."

"Okay, thank you." Miguel took off his blazer letting out a sigh. Work can get complicated for Miguel, so his coming home a little tired was normal. He could hear another pair of footsteps coming closer to him. He looked to his side and saw you standing there.

You stood in front of him with your fingers fiddling with each other. "Hi." You said softly.

He leaned over, giving you a light kiss on the lips. You accepted it. You accepted a lot of things without resisting anymore. He gave a smile and peck on the cheek. "After we eat, I want to take a bath with you."

You nodded as you took your seat on the dining room table. The chef left back to the kitchen to clean up leaving you and Miguel all alone. Not the first time the both of you have been alone, but now it's different. Now you share his bed. Now you give him a kiss on the lips when he leaves for work. Now the both of you shower together and bathe together when he wants to. The first time he wanted to do this, you protested, but it only resulted in him dragging you and stripping you naked.

He hasn't been intimate with you, but you know when that time comes, your cries won't help you.

You've been with him for six months. Six months of you and him sharing a bed together. In total, you've been in the house for two years now. No word from your mother not like you cared anymore. Miguel made you take online college so you don't have to leave the house. As for the part-time job you had, Miguel had to go in and apologize that you can no longer work. Miguel being rich and successful gave him respect for his name so no one questioned him. Miguel brought in his lawyers to deal with your bank account so you can use his instead whenever you feel like it. If you want to buy clothes or shoes online or anything that you like, you can get by using his money. Recently, he's been discussing marriage licenses with his lawyers. He does want you to have a big wedding, but to make it easy, just getting your marriage license and certificate was enough.

Besides, who are you going to invite to a wedding you're being forced to.

"How was work?" You asked.

"Tiring. It would be a whole lot easier if these interns knew what they were doing instead of keeping their hands in their pants. I swear they changed the ways of teaching now. Don't know how they graduated." He swallowed his food, taking a sip of water. "Speaking of which, I talked to the administrator and they will accept you in to finish college there if you want it. Sure, it'll still be online, but you'll get the education you want." Due to your mother relying on her past boyfriends to cover her finances, you didn't exactly have the benefits of choosing your dream college. Miguel insisted for him to get you in. "Although, I don't see why you'll need it. You have me." He has told you that you won't need the degree. Why? Your future husband is filthy rich and intelligent. "How about If I gave two options. Choose to finish college or I'll give two days to go outside every week." It's been six months since you stepped foot outside. You remember the last time you were out in public. It was when you were looking for a place to live. Miguel ended up buying that entire apartment building, flipping it and now owns it. He doesn't really go there or actually work there, he just hired people to run it really. Because of this, people loved him due to his kindness in getting people jobs on top of that he gave people good homes at affordable prices. He's a real hero to the people.

Finish college or go outside two times every week. On the one hand, you want to finish your goal to finish your studies. On the other, you really wanted to go outside and finally breathe some air. what is the catch though? What's the point? If you do finish college, that degree will sit in the closet collecting dust. If you choose to go outside, what else will there be to it? Do you want a little bit of freedom you can get? Or waste your time doing something you're not going to need?

Miguel can see your head thinking of these two options. "If choose to go out, I'll hire two bodyguards to be with you at all times."

What to choose? What to pick?

The water of the bath was warm and it felt relaxing. Your back was resting on Miguel's torso. You could feel his rock-hard abs and chest. Your head rested on one of his pecks. You felt his arms embracing you. You felt the warmth of his body all over you. The last of the bubbles from the body wash went away from your body and his. The sound of water wooshing around filled the bathroom. "I want to go outside." You finally said.

Miguel smiled at you, giving you a kiss on your cheek.

The smile you had never seen before. The smile you thought that never existed on this man was now showing.

You met two bodyguards Miguel hired. They rarely spoke. They hardly made contact with you which wasn't weird. Miguel told them what they had to do while they were in his home office. You waited outside, ready to go out for the first time in six months.

When they finally got out, they took you outside. Miguel kissed you on the lips and told you to have fun.

The two guards were on your side at all times. Even when you were in the bathroom with a bunch of stalls, the female bodyguard went in with you. When any other male figure even turned their heads to you, the male bodyguard gave them a look. The two guards wore sunglasses so you don't even though the color of their eyes.

One thing for sure though, is that they noticed how you didn't buy anything during your trips to the mall or any store. They dressed this to Miguel since they had to report everything you did whenever you would go out.

Eventually, it led to Miguel talking to you. The both of you were in bed getting ready to sleep when you felt his arm wrapping around your torso. "Don't hesitate to buy anything you want. If you want it then get it, mi amor. My money is your money."

If you spend his money it means that you have accepted this fate. You've accepted him and this new life. Are you ready to accept it?

The sun was shining through making everything hot and glow. The beautiful tiles on the floor and little square pots with trees in every other corner and center. People walk by with their shopping bags looking for their store to shop in. The outside mall is probably one of your favorite spots. Look at you, just like your mother. The two guards by your side, walking along with you. The only thing you got was a pretzel. You don't know what you want? Why are you there in the first place?

You offered your pretzal bites to the guards, but they didn't accept it. They're really serious about this then. You ended up seeing a nice jacket on display. It was a jacket perfect for your style. You entered in looking for it. When you finally found it you checked the price and cringed at how expensive it was for you. Do you really need to spend that kind of money on a jacket? Are you even going to wear it?

You let your mind turn off and your body control you. You grabbed the jacket from the rack and made your way to the front counter. The cashier asked you if you found everything okay and you replied yes. When she said the total, you grabbed the card that Miguel gave you and pressed it on the little card reader. When the machine said 'approved' you sighed with how dumb this decision might've been. You walked out of the store and told the guards that you were ready to go home.

Little did you know that one of your mom's friends saw you walking out?

When you got home, Miguel asked you how the trip to the mall was and the guard told them everything that you did. He then asked to see you wear the jacket. You put on the jacket and showed it to him. He got up from his chair and got closer to you. He palmed your cheek and pulled your face to kiss you on the lips. "It looks gorgeous, mi amor. You look gorgeous."

"I might return it." Still not satisfied with the choice you made. Are you ready for this?

"Why?" He questioned.

"I might not even wear it." You said back to him.

"You could wear it to our first date." He said.

He never took you out on an actual date. He's been too busy with trying to get you used to your life. However, since you have been good lately, he felt like it was ready to take you out somewhere special. "Date?"

"Yes. I want to take you. So, tomorrow, I'll come home early, we'll get ready and enjoy ourselves." He kissed your cheek, tracing his lips closer to your ear. "I want our first time to be special."

You had a hard time sleeping. You kept replaying the things he said to you in his office. When you finally shut your eyes, morning already come. Miguel left early for work so you didn't wake up with him by your side. You had your breakfast that the chef prepared. You went back to the bedroom, walking past your old bedroom that you stayed in. Miguel turned it into a regular guest bedroom or an empty bedroom for future 'family members.' You go through your side of the walk-in closet and pick out an outfit (Whatever style outfit fits you). You laid it out on the bed and started to feel a bit nervous.

You never had a man to treat like this. Is it bad? Is it good? He shut you out from the world and forced you to be with him. Should you be grateful? Is Miguel a complete psycho?

You're going to spend a special night with him. Your first time with him. You never thought it would be him. Yes, he's fit and handsome. Yes, he has everything a woman wants. Yes, he's caring and he's caring to you. Are you ready though?

As hours pass you finally got up and took a shower. You get ready, putting on your shoes that match the outfit perfectly. By the time you finished, Miguel already got home and took a shower. You waited in the living room fiddling with your fingers. Picking a bit of skin in your cuticles. If you had a purse, you would clutch onto the straps. Miguel has mentioned that you don't need to carry a purse when you're with him because he has all you need.

When he got out, he was wearing a dark navy blazer with pants that matched, a white dress shirt, and a red tie. His hair was slick back as usual. You stood up. "eres una belleza, mi amor." he said to you.

He took your hand and led you out of the house and into the back of his black SUV. He sat right next to you with his hand on your thigh. On the ride, you hardly spoke. It was just Miguel talking to you about the place you guys are going. You did wonder where he was going to take you.

When you got out of the car, you saw a big helicopter in front of you. The nervousness came back. You never done this before. You clutched to Miguel's arm for comfort. Really, the only comfort you have. "Don't be scared. I'll be right next to you."

He led you inside the helicopter with his help. You put on the headset and strap in the seat belt. Miguel was talking to the helicopter pilot. The pilot is a dear friend of Miguel and is the one to take Miguel wherever he needs. Miguel pointed out the view by your side and told you to look. When you did, you were in awe at how beautiful it was. All the lights blend in. The sunset setting down. It was amazing.

When the stop was made, Miguel helped you out of the helicopter by grabbing your waist and lifting you down. He held your hand as he guided you inside the big fancy restaurant. The restaurant looked like the inside of a Victorian opera house. You won't be surprised if it was one. The hostess said hi to Miguel and took the both of you into a nice room with a nice round table with a white cloth. It was perfectly decorated. All the staff talked to Miguel as if he was a regular here. Again, you won't be surprised if he comes here often. The hostess handed you the menu, even the menu was fancy. The first thing you did notice was the prices. The prices were through the roof. Not even a side salad was affordable. Do the ingredients have magic powers or something? You thought.

"What're you getting?" Miguel asked, placing the many down on the table. The sound of light jazz music played throughout the restaurant and it sounded like it was live.

"I'm getting (Whatever you want)" You looked out trying to take a peek through the red velvet curtains.

"They're playing jazz on the first floor. They bring in jazz players or pianists to play for the people here. Sometimes an orchestra." He said.

You took a sip of your water admiring the architecture of the place that you are in. When the waiter came in, you told him what you wanted, the same with Miguel. Soon, the both of you are eating the most delicious food you have ever tasted in your life.

"Delicious right?" Miguel saw the way you were enjoying it. You nodded in response. "Five years ago, I went here with some business partners to talk about expanding the way science should be taught. When I first tasted the food, I fell in love with it."

"Your past girlfriends must've been happy being here." You said, softly.

"No. I never took any of my ex-girlfriends here. This is a special place for me. I wanted to bring someone who I knew would enjoy it with me forever. That person is you." He went to grab the check that the waiter put down and put his black card inside, handing it back to the waiter.

He took you back out and enjoyed the night and the stars riding the helicopter. He griped on your thigh as you gripped on his biceps. The wind was nice and it wasn't too harsh so it didn't ruin your hair, but the air felt nice on your skin.

Back home, the lights were dimmed. He started to guide back to the bedroom. This is when you felt fear. You forgot about this part. You were enjoying yourself so much that you forgot the other part of the date. He turned your back to him and started to take off your jacket that you just bought. He held your waist sliding his hand up and down.

He then started to shift your clothes off your body until you were left with your undergarments. He turned you around so you can face him. He sat you down on the edge of the bed and began to take off his clothes. He tugged his red tie and threw on one of the armchairs, unbuttoned his dress shirt, unbuckled his belt, and zipped his pants. When he was in his briefs, you felt your heart racing.

He went in and kissed your neck. leaving trails of wet kisses all over your collarbone. You felt his fingers trying to unhook your bra, but you quickly grabbed his arms to stop him. "Wait. I don't think I can do this."

He stopped kissing you and pulled away to look at you. "Why?"

Why? Is he serious? Why? "Because I don't want it." You saw him placing his hand on his forehead and his other hand on his waist. "Because you're my mom's ex-boyfriend."

"Ay, que caramba! Por dios! ya estoy harto que tu siempre mencionas esto!" He yelled at you. "I don't love her! I don't care about her! She never meant anything to me!" He bent over and hovered over you, "When I first met her, I wasn't planning on being with her. I didn't like her. But when she introduced you to me, I realized who was meant for me."

"Me?" Your eyes widened with what he just confessed.

"Yes! you! It was a pain to sleep next to her knowing that you were in the other room. It was a pain when she gave me a kiss on the lips when you were sitting there watching. I felt heartbroken for you. For you to see it." His eyes were lighted, " So, I worked long hours so I could avoid her. Never meant to avoid you. It worked because when I found out that she slept with other men, it was enough for me to kick her out."

"I don't understand?" Why not just kick her out before?

"I have control, I do. But when you are there, I can't help myself." Miguel remembered the day your mother caught him jerking off while moaning your name. It was the first argument they actually had without you there. You were attending your college course classes during all of this, so how would you know this happened. Your mother was angry. More angry at you for catching his attention than her. It made sense since he never showed any actual interest in your mother, especially in bed. She also felt embarrassed as well that he was more interested in you than her. So she told Miguel that she would leave and take you far away from him, but he didn't want that. If he kicked her out then she would take you with her. However, when he caught her in bed with another man it was enough to get back at her. He knew that she was money-hungry for men, that she'd choose them over you. So when she found her new toy, she was already on her way out. "I never slept with her, If that's what you're worried about? I never did. Most nights I slept in the armchair so I wouldn't be in the same bed as her. At times I would sleep on the couch and leave for work early."

"So..this entire time you wanted..." You felt so dumb to not notice all the signs. There were no signs at all.

"You. I wanted you. Now that I have you here. Sleeping in the same bed as me, I'm not going to let you go. EVER! I want to marry you, kiss you, make love to you, have kids with you, grow old with you. I want you. I need you. I'll kill anyone and anything that gets in our way." He went on and kissed you deeply. He moved you more onto the bed.

He yanked your bra off your body. He started to massage your breast with his large hands. He gripped the line of your panties and pulled them down. He ignored you. Ingorned your cries to stop. It was so into his own head, he didn't hear your plea.

He pulled down his briefs, feeling his cock hardened. He spread your legs apart and starts to circle your clit. He inserted his finger inside and started to pump in and out. He felt the inside of your walls. When he did enough to get you wet, he inserted his cock inside you. He nuzzled in your neck, kissing you, and leaving hickeys all over your collarbone and neck. He let his cock rest inside your pussy for a while so you can get used to his size. He knows that he's big, so he wanted to make sure that you take him well. The pain was through as you dug your nails on his back. Maybe you should enjoy it? You should be grateful.

He moved his hips slowly, moving back and forth. Soon the pace began to fasten. The sound of the bed creaking filled the room. The sound of his grunts and moans entered into your ear. "Fuck. Yes..ahh..mhm~" He placed his hand on the sides of your head and thrust inside you harder and faster. "You're gonna make me cum, baby."

His balls were slapping your ass as he lifted your waist off the bed and fucked you in harder than ever. Your thighs were vibrating with how fast he was going. The sound of wet skin slapping against each other echoed in the room. When he felt like he was going to ejaculate, he embraced you into him, and you felt your breast against his own muscle pecks. "Ah! Fuck! Take my cum, sweetheart." He felt his semen injecting inside you. He felt your womb being filled up that some of his cum spilled out and ran down his balls. You held on to him tight feeling your body being filled up by him. Your thighs shook with how hard he fucked you. Your tears were now dried up and your sobs turned into slight whimpers. You felt your face heating up. An older man just took your virginity. You felt ashamed, but good at the same time.

"I'm not done with you, mi amor." He huffed as the last drop of cum left his still-rocked hard cock. He sat down on the bed and pulled you on top of him. You sat between his legs as he spread your legs apart once more. His fingers went down and started to play with your clit. You covered your mouth to stop you from moaning, but it angered Miguel. "Don't! I wanna hear you, querida"

"M-Miguel...Ahh~ mmm..." You felt his fingers flicking your clit and rubbing it slowly. You wanted him to go faster. His other hand went and groped your breast, he pinched your nipple while rubbing your throbbing clit. "It...Ahhh! it feels good, Miguel! Ahhh~....mmm~...faster please."

"Want me to go faster?" the tip of his finger was gently circling your clit that was begging for him to get abused.

"Yes! Mmmm~....Yes! Please!" Your head was thrown back at the feeling of his touch.

"Yes what, mi amor?" He pinched your clit and moved it side to side, slowly.

"Yes!...oh god!...Mhmmm~...ngh..faster!...." You felt your lips opening your pussy with the amount of pleasure you are feeling. The wetness filled all over your area. You felt wetness and some of his cum leaking out to the bed. Miguel's thought of you squirting all over the bed turned him on even more. The bed filled with your juices made him more horny than ever. You felt his rock-hard cock on your back. It didn't help that with his movements he was making towards your clit was making you squirm your back, rubbing his cock in the process. "Please.. go faster...Ahh!...Ngh...yes Daddy~."

With that, he rubbed your clit at a fast speed. "Like this, mi amor."

Your pussy was getting wet and wet with each orgasm you were having. "Yes..Ahh!..ooh!..mmm~!"

Sweat was dripping down your face and body. "This pussy is so good. I'm gonna fucking abuse this pussy. Yes, baby. Yeah~." He slapped your clit a couple times which caused a few leaks to spray out.

"Yes! Yes!~" Your eyes were closed shut. Your breath was losing control.

"Who's this pussy belong to." He slapped your clit one more time. "Is this daddy's pussy baby..yeah. Fuck! Your so fucking wet." He slapped your entire pussy feeling the wetness on his hand. He rubbed your clit even more but would stop just to see it twitch. "This clit is so juicy. This belongs to me. Look at it throb. Fuck! You're driving me insane amor!"

Soon you felt like you were going to explode. You didn't care about the mess, you wanted the pleasure to continue. You arched your back and felt your pussy squirting all over the bed sheets. A pool of your juices formed under your ass cheeks.

It didn't stop. It never stopped. He inserted his fingers inside you again and played with your walls. He wasn't pumping in and out, he was rubbing your walls on the inside. He opened your pussy even more and you felt another gush of your juices squirting out again. The bed sheets were drenched with all your juices. "It's like a waterfall." He continued to rub your red clit more. He would lick his fingers and go on to flick your clit.

"Oh god! Ahh! Ahh!~" You felt his entire palm rubbing it.

"I want to taste you." He grabbed your clit and abused it even more making you squirt all over.

He picked you up and placed you on the armchair. He kneeled down and spread your legs. He saw a good view of your pussy he began to dive in. He licked you all over. "Fuck! It's so good! Don't stop! Don't stop...oh~" you screamed out. You gripped his head and felt his tongue flicking more of your clit. He felt a small spray of your juices landing on his face. He can't get enough. He wanted to drown in it. "Yes! Fuck me! Daddy! Fuck me! This pussy is yours!" Another gush of squirt left your body. Miguel went in and drank as much of it as he could.

He told you to kneel on the floor and you did. He sat down on the armchair and told you to open your mouth. When you did, he shoved his cock inside your mouth.

You looked at him and felt the warmth of his cock down your throat. He bobbed your head up and down moaning. "Fuck!...you like sucking my cock baby...shit!...mmm~...oh fuck." It didn't take too long for him to cum inside your mouth. He pulled out and let the rest of his cum spray all over your face. "Ahh~...shit....look at you...covered with my semen...Open your mouth, mi amor." You did. You showed him the cum inside your mouth. "Swallow it~"

He wanted to cover you with more of his cum so he started to jerk off. "Touch yourself. I want you to touch yourself, mi amor."

You sat on the floor and spread your legs to show him your full view of your sensitive spot. You never touched yourself before. You picked on your clit and felt it warm and wet. You went all out and fingered your clit with your hand while the other was keeping you up. You closed your eyes and rested your head back. "Look at me. I want to see you." Miguel said, feeling his balls bouncing up and down. You looked at him, biting your lip, feeling tears going down with how good the pleasure was. Your legs couldn't stop shaking with how much you're stimulated. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as you felt more squirt coming out of you. You came too early that you wanted to insert a finger inside you. So you ignored that cum and shoved a finger inside. You never felt the inside of your walls. The fact that Miguel was watching it was making you act crazy. "Good girl. Fuck...you're such a good girl.." He huffed and swallowed the little bit of saliva in his mouth. He felt cum about to come out, but he stopped himself making him edge.

You played with your pussy, digging inside and rubbing your walls until you found your g-spot. Your legs tremble as your fingers got covered with more of your own cum. A pool formed on the floor filled with pussy juice.

Miguel moaned out as cum sprayed out of his penis and covered your face.

You don't know how long the two of you were at. He came inside you three more times and made you squirt so many times, you felt your legs going numb.

You don't remember the rest of the night. When you woke up, you felt fresh new bedsheets over you. Your skin felt clean and smooth. When you tried to get out of bed, your legs felt so sore that you couldn't budge.

You heard the bedroom door open and saw Miguel in nothing but sweatpants. "Good morning, mi amor" He was carrying a tray of food and brought it to your side.

"What time is it?" You asked.

"It's already noon. I woke up thirty minutes ago." He placed the tray on your lap.

"You didn't go to work?" You took a sip of the water, feeling your body getting hydrated.

"Why would I go to work after the night we both had." He smiled remembering all of the things you both had done. "Last night..was the best night I ever had. I love you."

He loves you. "I don't..I don't remember what else happened..how-"

He let out a small chuckle, "it's alright, cariño. I changed the bedsheets and gave the both of us a bath. When I put you back on the bed, you immediately knocked out. You were so tired mi vida. Next time I'll go gentle on you, I'm sorry."

-------------------------------------------------------

It's been a few days since that night. Everything went back to how it was. Miguel was more physical with you. The two guards were still there when you wanted to go out.

Eventually, Miguel told you that he wanted to take you where he works that way you could have a feel for what he does. He never brought it anyone personal, or anyone at all. So when people saw him bringing you, they were shocked. He showed you all of the building and what exactly each person does. For someone who works at a very large building with many, many people, he has a good memory of the names of his employees.

Miguel had to excuse himself to you when he was called into an important meeting. You went and saw a vending machine outside the cafeteria and decided to get yourself a little snack. You were about to put in some quarters from your pocket when you heard another male voice behind you. You turned around and a guy wearing a lab coat and his name tag on the little pocket of the coat. "Sorry." You moved to the side, but he followed along. You looked to your sides and saw no one around.

"What a pretty girl like you doing here?" The guy said.

"Um..my boyfriend brought me here." You said.

"Boyfriend? Always the pretty ones get taken. So who's the lucky guy? Or are you just lying?" You excused yourself and started to walk away.

He ran up to you, "So what's your name?" He said.

"Why?" You questioned.

"Can't I know the pretty girl's name?" He said in almost an offended tone.

"I have to go." You walked a bit faster, but you could hear his footsteps getting closer to you. You didn't want to cause any trouble, especially at Miguel's work.

You also certainly didn't want to make Miguel mad. Everything was going good, you didn't want to anger him.

Your prayers have been heard because the two guards came and told the guy to basically fuck off. You never thought you would be happy to see your two guards. "Please don't tell Miguel about this. I don't want him to worry. I don't want to cause trouble. Please."

They didn't reply, which was the usual for them to do, but you hoped that they'd listen.

When Miguel finished his meeting, he met up with you and the two of you went back home together.

You thought that the two guards kept the secret because Miguel never mentioned it. He didn't really need to. That guy won't bother you ever again.

While the both of you were enjoying dinner, the doorbell rang. You looked at Miguel who looked back at you confused.

Who's here at this time?

Miguel went to answer it and saw someone he never thought he'd see. "What are you doing here?"

The woman rolled her eyes and made her way inside the home. "You'd think I'll just leave? Just like that?" She snapped her fingers.

You made your way to the front door and saw her. Your mother.

You can tell she changed her looks..again. Your mother looked at you and gave you a disgusted look. "So it is true. You're with her!"

"What are you talking about?" Miguel asked.

"A little birdy told me that she was out shopping at an expensive store." She crossed her arms. "I know she doesn't have money and knowing you and that weird fantasy you had, made me think? Has he really gone all out and started a relationship with my daughter?"

"I'm not your daughter." You said with hatred in your eyes. You had enough of her behavior. Of her stupidity. Of her immaturity.

"Whores don't get to talk!" She screamed at you.

"Don't call her that! The only whore here is you!" Miguel screamed back at her. You went behind Miguel, holding his arm.

"Please! Because of her you lost interest in me! Because of her! Our relationship ended." She yelled.

"Mi amor, go to the room. I'll handle this okay." Miguel told you. You didn't want to but also didn't want to disobey him. You nodded and went to your guy's shared bedroom. You shut the door and climbed on top of the bed.

Miguel stormed up to her with his face fuming with anger. " There was no relationship, you fucking bitch. Me and you never existed. I was only using you to get close to (Y/N). The only one I care about is her. The only one I love is her. You are nothing to me." He saw her hand raising up and swinging forward towards the side of his face, but he saw right through. He caught her hand mid-air, "Don't you fucking dare."

She yanked away from his grip. "I'll tell people about you and her. I'll tell people how you are forcing a young 20-year-old to be in a relationship with you. I wonder how the people are gonna say that a guy in his late 30s is with a young girl without her consent?" She smeared a smirk on her face. "After all, I'm her mother, so people are most likely gonna say 'oh, poor her. She's looking after her daughter from a disgusting man. I Can't believe someone like Miguel O'Hara would do that.' What do you think?"

"I'll make sure to make your life a living fucking hell, you disgusting piece of shit!" His tone was deep and dark and your mom thought she was speaking with the devil.

"Me? Disgusting? At least I didn't masturbate at the thought of a young girl. So let's weigh our options." She looked around at the big fancy house that she used to call home. "You go back to provide for me and I'll let you and that thing I call a daughter to continue dating or whatever the relationship is. Or! I'll tell people about this and ruin your reputation. I mean who would the people believe. Two poor women crying for help or a rich man who got exposed for being a perverted old man."

"So that's what this is all about. Money. What? Did your boyfriend finally realize what a whore you are and left your ass!?" He exclaimed. "You can tell people whatever you want. (Y/N) will never take your side. You heard her! You are not her mother. All the things you had done to her, you really think she will defend on your honor. The only thing she'll do is expose your ass on how much of a terrible mother you are. Uh? Let's see. let's weigh our options." He said mimicking her. " You get the fuck out of my house and never show your face here again. Or we'll expose how you neglected your own daughter for your own benefits and you let other men emotionally abuse her and how you left her alone here with me. I'll tell me people that I gave her a place to live because her own mother was too selfish that she didn't care she was going to make her own daughter homeless."

"She'll listen to me. She'll do what I say. She always does. Deep down, she wants what's best for her mother. What? You think that wasn't the only time she had said that. Please, she throws those tantrums all the time, and in the end, she will always be by my side." She tilted her head," So." She looked at him from top to bottom. "I'll take a check every two weeks. Maybe around 5,000 dollars. Obviously, I'll ask for more later on. That's all I'm asking. Or else, I'll take her away from you."

She turned around with a smile on her face. "Tell (Y/N) I said goodbye."

Miguel couldn't even hear what had been said. Everything was turned into an echo. The fact that she can take you away. Everything Miguel wanted was going to be taken away from him. He felt his blood boil with anger. He felt the hatred increase towards her and he didn't hesitate to grab a mimick mini statue of David sitting on one of the tables. With one swing, he smacked the statue on her head. It caused her to fall down on the floor. Miguel looked at the statue and saw blood on the corner from the base. He looked over on the floor and saw her lifeless body. A pool of blood formed around her corpse. Miguel tapped her with his foot to see if she was still alive, but there was no movement. He didn't freak out. He didn't panic. He smiled. He smiled that she was finally gone.

You waited for Miguel to come in and tell you what had happened. What did she want?

It felt like ages waiting for him.

At last, he finally entered the room. He looked a bit rough. His shirt was half unbuttoned and dirt spots showed on his white shirt. "What happened? What did she want? Why are you dirty?" You questioned. You had so many questions.

"She just wanted some money, I gave her a few hundred dollar bills and told her to never come here again. She was a bit angry but accepted the fact that she couldn't do anything." He explained, taking off his shoes.

"What happened to your shirt and pants?" You pointed it out.

"Well, she stormed off and crushed a couple of the roses out front. I went out and replaced them. That's why I took too long." He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off.

"She's not coming back?" You asked.

"No. I told her that if she showed her face here again, I'd call the police. I guess that got her scared. It's most likely she's leaving the country or something. She told me she found a new man, so we won't be seeing her." He looked at you and saw how you were tearing up. "Mi Amor? Que tienes?" He got on the bed and crawled to you. He wiped away a tear falling down from the corner of your eye with his thumb. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's stupid." You couldn't help but let a low sob escape your lips.

"It's not stupid if you're crying. Tell me. I can help you." He said in a concerned tone.

"It's...it's just that...she's my mom. She's my mom and she never cared about me. She never did. Why didn't she love me? What did I do wrong?" You cried to him.

Miguel went over and pulled you into a hug. You sobbed on his chest. He caressed your hair and arms. "Ya mi vida. Forget about her okay. She doesn't deserve your tears. Hey, it's her loss okay. She was never grateful to have a beautiful and kind daughter like you. Any other mother would be happy to have you as a daughter."

"Really?" You looked at him with your glossy eyes.

"Of course, mi vida." He wiped the last tears on your face. "I'm grateful to have you in my arms. You might've not received love from her, but I'll give you all the love and care you deserve. I'll never leave you. I'll love you till the day we die."

You spent the night sleeping in his arms.

Miguel couldn't help but smile at the sight he was seeing. You are finally his. His and forever.

It might've taken a while and a few hardships, but his goal was finally accomplished.

He saved you from a heartache.

He is a hero we all deserve and need.

(That's all. Not sure if I want to continue this story, soooo maybe oneshot?)

[gureumz]

wide open

rating: explicit

member: heeseung

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

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

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

it's making your stomach churn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

your father's voice trembles now.

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

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

you swallow, letting his words sink in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he shakes his head.

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

olivia eyes you worriedly while yuna nods in agreement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"the king is waiting," he adds.

---

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

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

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

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

"of course," you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

everything was a blur after that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

you meet her eyes through the mirror and nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

olivia and yuna both nod in understanding.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"enter," comes a voice from inside.

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

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

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

your eyes meet and the king straightens in his seat.

"your grace—"

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

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

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

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

"to celebrate your arrival," he continues.

you dip your head low.

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

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

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

the king sees your expression and pauses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"you can call me heeseung," he clarifies.

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

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

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

"my betrothed."

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

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

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

"come. the banquet should be starting soon."

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

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

---

it turns out, a week flies by extremely fast.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he almost looks...nervous.

"my b—"

heeseung pauses, taking in a sharp breath.

"my wife."

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

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

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

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

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

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

you expected anger, annoyance, or even confusion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

a flicker sparks inside you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

both of you are stark naked now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"feel good?"

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

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

the thought sickens you to your stomach.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you nod gently, signaling him to go on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

your chest constricts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"they're wide open, my King."

[expirednukacola]

ORANGE COLORED SKY 🏜️ || Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader

𐚁⊹₊ ⋆☆

My first fic about this bonafide work of ART! AKA The one and only, Cooper Howard / The Ghoul. This MAN has everyone lined up to get a taste so I am here to deliver! This is also a little surprise for @lexiway121!!! Reader is fem and in her mid-ish - late-ish 20s in this fic! This will also be a two part fic!! ..Maybe even more. SUMMARY: reader is little miss janey’s babysitter (cooper is going to need all the help he can get ESPECIALLY DURING A DIVORCE) and reader was invited to the kids birthday party (seen in the beginning of ep 1) as cooper’s plus two just to keep an extra eye on janey and the horse/sugarfoot. everything was nice until.. FLASH! BAM! ALAKAZAM!

chapter 1.5 : here!

og gif made by: @lousolversons !!

“Flash! Bam! Alakazam!”

“Out of an orange colored sky!”

The birthday party was going perfectly! You and Janey were standing somewhat near Cooper as he did his lasso tricks on his beloved horse, Sugarfoot. The birthday boy, alongside with his plethora of friends, were all staring and gasping in awe as the cowpoke twirled the lasso up and down to where he was inside of the spinning circle of rope. Cooper noticed their precious, little reactions and smiled back at his audience, a tender yet low chuckle escaping his throat.

Seeing how happy he looked and smiled as well, your cheeks became a tad bit blushed.. definitely from the L.A. heat — and that’s when Janey looked up at her and noticed how you, her babysitter, were smiling at her dad.. “Twitterpated..” -Was what the seven year old mumbled under her breath; she really needed to slow her roll on asking her dad what certain words meant. You, on the other hand, didn’t quite hear what Janey mumbled so you jokingly decided to peep out a little, “What was that, sweetie?” and all you got in response was an “innocent” little “Nothiiiiiiiing!”

After a few minutes of continuing his lasso show, Cooper got off his trusty stead and adjusted Sugarfoot’s saddle with such care while Janey rushed over to try and help her father. “Alright, birthday boy,” The cowboy said while looking at the VERY excited kid, “Let’s get a photo of ya up here on Sugarfoot.” As Cooper picked up the boy to place him on the horse while his daughter held onto the reigns, the birthday boy’s dad and his buddy, aka Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dipshit, start talking about Cooper Howard.

“Why the hell is Cooper Howard workin’ kids’ birthday parties?” The dad’s friend muttered as he held onto a bottle of some pretty cheap beer, and the dad responded with the most embarrassing answer known to man, “What else? Alimony.” The asshole said nonchalantly before he went back to nursing his shitty bottle of beer. That made Cooper whip his head around to look at the father with his mouth slightly agape, flabbergasted he would even bring that shit up at his kid’s party. To make things worse, sweet Janey popped up and asked the billion dollar question.. “What did they say, dad?”

Cooper looked down at his precious little angel with a quiet yet warm voice, “That I’m lucky to have such a good helper like you.” Poor, innocent Janey didn’t know what was going on between her Dad and Momma. All she knew was that she would have some very long weekends with her Momma and her Grandma and then she would go back to stay with her tired Dad.

Knowing what Cooper was going through and hearing those horrible words come out of that assholes mouth, you glared at the boy’s father so hard that he could fucking feel it. The dad looked back at you and rolled his eyes, pointing at you while muttering, “Some people say he cheated on his wife with his kid’s babysitter.” That was the last fucking straw and you wanted to smack the living daylights out of him. “Are you fucking kidding me, you goddamn pig-” You muttered but Janey quickly grabbed onto your hand with that same sweet smile she always had.

The anger that boiled inside of your body slowly began to simmer down into nothingness as you moved out of the way so the dad (AKA the head honcho of being an asshole) could take a photo of his son on top of the horse with Cooper standing next to him and little Janey holding onto the reigns, “All right- You ready?” The dad positioned the camera and even though the kid had a smile that was brighter than the 4th of July, the cowboy’s smile seemed.. off. Usually, Cooper would have these sweet dimples on either side of his mouth when he would smile real big for photos or when his daughter would do something extraordinary.. But those dimples weren’t there for these pictures.

Click!

After the photo was taken, the cowpoke carefully lifted up the giddy child from the saddle on Sugarfoot to the soft and lush green grass beneath them. Cooper was just about to check up on you and his daughter, but- “Hey, honey- Honey! Get with Cooper. Let’s get a picture.” -Mayor Asshat of Assville motioned the man to stand next to his wife. Though Cooper was a little awkward about the whole ordeal, he quickly posed up next to the wife and had that fake smile on his face once more.

Click!

“Aw- Coop, Coop, Coop! Do your thumbs-up.” The jerkwad ordered and right as you were about to intervene, Cooper (sorta) stood his ground and quickly responded with, “..Yeah, you know, given the state of everything, I prefer not to, if that’s all right.” But guess what? Señor Shit-for-brains wasn’t having it because being an asshole was in his damn genes. “Why not?” asked Count Fuckhead-ula, “It’s what you’re famous for.” he added right after but his wife, the one with common sense in the relationship, told “Bob” to drop it.

“We- uh.. We gotta get this rodeo on the road.” Cooper said with his head tilted slightly downwards towards the vibrant green grass beneath his worn leather boots while the boy’s mother handed him a check. Quickly, you grabbed onto the reigns that hung from Sugarfoot’s neck and clicked your tongue to get the horse to start walking. “..Well that was just fuckin’ lovely, huh Sugar?” Muttering solemnly under your breath, you walked alongside the sweet stead, tying the beautiful horse up to a tree so it wouldn’t run loose.

A good 5 minutes roll on by like a tumbleweed and You were walking around with Cooper by your side.. while the two of you were picking up giblets of trash left behind by some kids and adults. “I never thought that I was going to be doing this at a kid’s birthday party, Mr. Howard. Picking up trash after people is not what I had planned.” You stood back up after having to bend over to pick up an empty bottle of orange flavored Nuka Cola. “Oh yeah? What did you have planned, missy?” Cooper looked over at you with one of his eyebrows raised up and a smirk growing on his lips.. those gorgeous lips alongside those beautiful hazel eyes- “Uhhh- I don’t know? Maybe mingle with some of the parents and swipe myself a piece of cake. I heard it was chocolate cake.” A little smile grew on your face but your blooming happiness all went to waste when you saw “Bob the Shit Talker” staring at both of you through the window.

“But for a grown ass man to talk shit about us with his lil buddy and then having us pick up trash left by him and his guests was definitely not on my list.” You angrily sneered at the man who continued to glare at you two through the window before letting out a loud and deep sigh. Cooper, God bless this sweet man’s soul, quickly stood up and looked at you. “He did.. what? I knew he was talking shit about me but he and Mr. Clean were talking about you? ..Fuck- It was that rumor again, huh?”

The sweet-hearted cowboy looked up at the sky as if he were silently praying to God himself to smite down that piece of shit before he looked over at your slightly blushed to make sure you weren’t boo-hooing over something that wasn’t even true. He knew you didn’t have to answer him because the look of embarrassment on your face was all he needed to know.. but at least you weren’t crying.

After a few minutes of some much needed silence, you both made your way back to Janey, who was eyeing that delicious chocolate cake as she wrapped her own little lasso around her hand. You saw how Janey was looking at that cake.. and you started to look at the cake the same way the little girl was staring at that frosted piece of heaven.

“Why didn’t you do it?” Janey’s words snapped you out of your hungered staring contest with the cake. You looked down at the little girl that was looking at her father, who was now crouched down next to her. “The thumbs-up.” Oh shit.. She just accidentally busted open a huge ass can of Marine flashbacks for Cooper. At first, he tried to make her forget about it by telling her it was “grown up business” but those sweet, sweet eyes of hers were just too much for his heart to handle.

You crouched down next to the girl and gently placed a hand on her upper back, gently rubbing your thumb against the material of her button up’s collar. “Honey.. The reason why your dad doesn’t like having his thumb up is because-” Your words were cut off from Cooper clearing his throat and placing a hand on your shoulder, immediately making you shut up so he could be the one to explain it to his daughter. The older man explained what they taught him when he was in the Marines to his daughter, telling her that he and his fellow marines would hold up their thumbs whenever a bomb would drop. If the cloud of smoke was smaller than their thumbs, they had to run for the hills.. and if the cloud was larger than their thumbs, they wouldn’t even have to worry about running.

“..Who wants some cake?” You chirped out awkwardly while standing up, brushing your hands against your top before placing them on your hips. Janey’s eyes immediately lit up with absolute joy from the thought of having a slice of cake, and she quickly nodded her head with her hands clasped together. “I’ll see if I can snag you girls a couple o’ pieces, ‘kay?” The infamous cowboy stood up as well and walked inside of the house and you decided to join him to grab your own slice of heaven.

FLASH!

Once Cooper grabbed his daughter a slice and you grabbed your own, you two rejoined his little angel once more but instead of seeing her sweet smile shining brightly on her face, you were both met with her holding up her thumb and a horrified look on her face. Her body was trembling, her bottom lip was quivering, her eyes were tearing up, and when she spoke, she sounded like she was looking Death itself straight in the eyes..

“Is it your thumb or mine?”

…

“It’s just a fire..”

You could hear the dread in his voice and the sound of her little heart pounding against her ribcage as you followed their gazes to a.. large cloud of smoke and destruction. Your own heart start to rapidly beat profusely inside your body and your eyes widened in terror as a wave of radiation started coming your way. Everything felt as if it were in slow motion as you and Cooper both decided to crouch down to clutch Janey close to your bodies to shield her from any harm.

As the wave finally passed through, the glass windows shattered into millions of shards varying from large pieces to microscopic fragments and felt one of the medium sized pieces plunge itself into the side of your calf. “Oh GOD!!” A horrifying shriek of pain found its way from out of your body as Cooper quickly scooped both you and his daughter up in his arms, quickly running towards his much needed horse, Sugarfoot.

BAM!

Dread pulses throughout your body while your eyes darted across the scene around you — Parents with their sons and daughters in their arms, people running around aimlessly like ants after a menace of a child stepped on their nest, and the screams and cries of frightened young children wanting to go home. You’re pulled out of your frightened state when Cooper tried to push you up on Sugarfoot after he placed his daughter up on the saddle. “Cooper.. Cooper! No!! Get Janey out of here! You have to get her out of here!!” You pushed yourself away from him and stumbled back, your limp leg giving its all to keep you somewhat supported.

“Y/N- Get on the damn horse! I can’t just leave you here!” He tried to pull you back towards him but you limped back away from him once more. “You need to get her out of here, Coop.. Please.” Tears welled up in your eyes and they fell down your cheeks when they became too heavy for your eyes to hold. “Please.. Go- Get out of here!!” You pushed him away and back towards the horse, and you swore you saw him shed a lone tear.

As more bombs fell from the sky, you watched in grief as your beloved cowboy hop on his horse and grabbed on the reigns, immediately whipping them a little to signal Sugarfoot to get the fuck out of there — away from the chaos and away from the horror.. away from you. You dropped to your knees as you bawled your pretty little eyes until there were no more tears to shed.. and when you heard the faint whistle of a bomb dropping nearby.

ALAKAZAM!

This was the end, you thought. The end of the world, the end of your life, and the end of everything and everyone that you loved.. and the beginning of a new age: The beginning of a nuclear fallout. As you kneeled down on the green grass that was way too vibrant to be real, you tilted your head upwards and looked towards the sky, smiling one last time before your skin began to burn, your insides feeling as if they were being cooked at a thousand degrees, your voice becoming rasped and broken as you screamed in complete and utter agony. You took your final breath of irradiated air underneath that hideous orange colored sky.

THE END ..?

—————

thank you so much for reading the first chapter of Orange Colored Sky! i hope you liked it as much as i did and i hope you can excuse the.. nicknames i gave “bob” at the beginning (he deserved it though! he was an asshole for absolutely no reason.)

TAG LIST: @lexiway121

[north-noire]

My Michael Afton throughout the years! ft. his own little doodles. I'll try to be brief about the timeline and how my Michael was without saying too much since it'll be explored in the Hidden Hands AU fic's chapters anyway so I won't say all the details. Feel free to read if you guys like! I have a lot to say about him.

1983 (FNAF 4) - Michael was 12 or 13-ish when the Bite happened. Very reckless yet adventurous kid. Didn't really hate Evan (William, as much as he had a soft spot for Evan, still loved Michael all the same), just had really bad friends and influence (his friends were mostly bullies) - and didn't really like that he's being told to parent a little brother he had no idea how to take care of. It didn't help that Evan tended to be a tattle-tail sometimes about the trouble he was getting into. Michael also, deep down, got scared of what the bullies would do to him if he dared stand up for his brother or spoke out against them, so he ends up going along with what they did for his own sake. After the Bite, Michael was still deeply guilty about what he did to Evan, and it haunts him every night, knowing he had no good excuse but irresponsibility for what he did to his brother, because after all, it wasn't like William wasn't giving him enough attention. Michael just knew that he deserved anything unfortunate coming to him, but is genuinely surprised that his father kept telling him he loved him all the same. From this point on, he becomes easily troubled, tends to stay close to his dad. Makes sure he follows the rules and doesn't do trouble. Just wants to do a complete personality shift, and is deeply ashamed of who he was before. 1985 (Charlie's death, Fredbear's Family Diner shuts down) - Michael was 15 here. Over the years, he slowly isolated himself from most of the people in his life since he gets worried about his past scars coming back to haunt him. Mostly a recluse and reserved. He's not handling things well after Charlie's death and a family divorce - not to mention the non-existent social life he had. Just prefers to be left alone, but he's nice if you get to know him. Doesn't really have a good relationship with Elizabeth, but is actually pretty close with William. Feels extremely guilty and hates himself/blames himself for Charlie's death. He gets paranoid easily, as he thinks whoever took Charlie is now after him, but his father tells him to not worry too much about it. 1987 (FNAF 2) - (17) Slowly having a good relationship with Elizabeth. Starts to get into stuff like the supernatural and becomes superstitious to a degree over the years. In public, he's mostly polite and nice, but his actual personality shows through whenever he's with his father or Elizabeth - he's sarcastic, and has quite a dark sense of humor, can be a bit of a rebel, he's just more subtle about it. A bit of an over-thinker - he gets lost in his imagination/head easily. Has a (surprisingly) good relationship with his dad, as he's not really afraid to be himself around him - sometimes gifts him funny things or something he knows his dad would love/would use (he gifts William a rabbit's foot - for good luck, he says). He also helped William build the Fun-Times with blueprints and other technicalities (He's not really aware of the questionable features they had, unfortunately). He couldn't really come with his father and Elizabeth on Circus Baby's Pizza World opening due to things he had to catch up with his home-schooling, he had been skipping classes to work on the Fun-Times, but he really wanted to graduate highschool with a bang, so he's giving everything his all, here. Then Elizabeth suddenly goes missing all of a sudden, and, well... I would say more, but my fic sort of takes a canon-divergence route around FNAF 2/SL-FNAF 1 so that would spoil half of the stuff I've been working/writing about! Reference-sheet wise, I just wanted to show how he progresses from a rebellious, happy and adventurous kid into a more reclused, anxious and soft-spoken adult. Sorry for the long post! I've just been wanting to talk about him for some time now. There's a looot more that I've left out but yeah that's because there will be more in the fic!

[whimsyfinny]

He's a Winchester

Chapter 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader

Warnings: language, mention of toxic parenting/custody battle, angst, alcohol,

Chapter Word Count: 3471

MDNI 18+

A/N: here it is! I’m not gonna lie, this is going to be very slow burn at first, but don’t worry, you know me and you know how much juicy content I write so it’s definitely coming hahaha. I’m also trying to figure out a schedule for posting this, so hopefully I can upload two chapters a week.

A/N2: GUYS IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING but PLEEEEASE provide your age if you want to be added to the taglist and it isn’t in your blog. This story is tame now but it’s gonna get spicy, and my blog is strictly 18+. So pleeeeease save be a very long job and help a gal out. 

Photos from Pinterest

Previous Chapter: Chapter 1

Chapter 2

I reached for the bottle of wine for the third time in the last hour and a half. I was sitting with Kat, pyjamas adorned, in the living room of mine and Levi's modest two bedroom house. For financial (and personal) reasons, our little house didn't follow current trends and looked more like something out of a popular 90s sitcom. The couch was comfy, the blankets were fuzzy, and a fresh pot of coffee was always brewing. Pictures embellished the walls of every milestone Levi had achieved; every birthday party, every new dirt bike, every new hairstyle. There were a few of Kat and I from over the years, going way back to when we first met back in ‘99 and both decided to rock platform heels on at the turn of the millennium - having tiny babies at the time didn't seem to stop us. Every single moment on these walls was a happy memory - something that I would treasure forever, yet there was something missing. There were no photos - or perhaps a scarce few - of my own parents, or of them with Levi, or of any extended family for that matter. The price I paid when I decided to have my son out of wedlock, at barely twenty years old, with a man who my family saw as a total stranger, is a price I'd pay every time in a heartbeat. Kat and Toby were our family now, and that was more than I could ever ask for. That was why the sheer possibility of Levi getting to meet his dad for the first time in, well, ever… it had my mind spinning. It was a scenario I'd dreamt of, late at night when I couldn't sleep and the burdens of life weighed me down. I conjured false memories in my minds eye of the pair of them fixing his bike on the drive or driving to school in the impala. I pictured us having breakfast together as a family and taking trips to the movies. Being together. Because no matter how many dates I went on, or how many frogs I’d kissed over the years, none of them were Levi's father.

None of them were Dean Winchester.

“Girl you have to reach out to him,” Kat walked in from the adjacent kitchen before slumping on the couch next to me, wine glass elevated to reduce spillage.

“Kat I could barely look at him today without feeling like I was going to have a heart attack - how the fuck am I supposed to talk to him?” I glanced at her with wide eyes, every nerve in my body on edge despite the wine and scented candles. Kat sighed. 

“You might never get this opportunity again, and we both know that if you don’t give Levi the opportunity to meet his father then you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.” I held my breath, urging the raging storm in my mind to quiet down before letting the air gush from my lungs.

“Yeah I know. I just…I just never thought that this would actually happen, you know? I never thought that Dean would show up here. I figured Levi would eventually track him down when he was old enough to make that decision on his own. I have no idea how to even approach this.”

“Sure you do!” Kat beamed, a wicked glint in her eye, “you sit him down and say, ‘Hey Dean! Remember when we had sex in the back of that amazing car of yours nine years ago? Well, actions have consequences, and yours in eight years old and sitting in his science class right now.’”

I couldn't stop the grin from spreading across my face and I cackled when the bit of popcorn I threw landed in her wine glass.

“Bitch.”

I blew her a kiss in response to her insult. It didn’t take long though for the distraction to run its course and for my mind to return to its state of panic.

“But seriously, what am I going to say to him? What if I tell him, and he rejects us too, like my family did?”

Her smile softened.

“From everything that you’ve told me about that man, I highly doubt he’s going to reject you. Sure, he might not stick around permanently, but he sounds like the kind of guy that would stay in touch,” her softened smile turned to a stern stare, “but he’s only going to do that if he knows. He deserves to know he has a son.”

I took a long gulp of my wine. 

“Yeah, I’m going to tell him…” I paused, gnawing my bottom lip as I drew my knees to my chest, “it’s Saturday tomorrow so I’m not at work and Levi has two hours at the track. I can try to do it tomorrow, but I’m not sure if I’ll even be able to track Dean down in that time - I have no idea where he could be.”

“Hey, I’ll pick up Levi from Motocross - it’s been a few days since him and Toby have spent any proper time together anyway, just them two. Tobes’ has been dying to show him those brand new boots of his.”

We shared a smile. That’s the thing about Kat; she always had my back, no matter the situation.

“Thanks babes, I owe you one.”

She shook her head.

“No way - this is me returning the favour from when Toby’s dad decided to show an interest in his own child. I’m pretty sure my kid thought you were adopting him at one point from how much he stayed here,” I laughed, remembering the camp bed I bought especially for Toby, along with all the extra duvet sets and boxes of cereal I’d had to purchase for the best part of half a year.

“He’s a good kid, and honestly he and Levi entertained themselves for most of it.”

There was another pause in the conversation as I recounted how difficult it had been for Kat when David had shown up, insisting on being a part of Tobys life despite zero contact since his son was born. They’d argued over custody, over which school he went to, the clubs he attended. Even his hobbies were on the line, with David wanting him to play football despite Toby already being involved down at the track with the bikes. The stress caused Kat to lose weight and sleep, and she nearly lost her job over it all when she kept falling asleep at her desk. I’d lost count of how many times she’d cried in my arms. Cried over a man who thought that practically owning his son was his God given right despite being an absent father, and I think that is what scared me the most. That I would feel the same wretched things that she felt, and the waves of disappointment that crashed over her time and time again when false promises were made. It took her months to settle on an agreement due to David's behaviour, and Toby finally sees his father, albeit only for one weekend a month. It's better than nothing, but certainly not worth the fight that was fought with blood, sweat and tears. 

I hope from the bottom of my heart that Dean takes the news well, and doesn't leave us in the dust like he does in my worst nightmares.

It had taken me around thirty minutes to track down Dean. Well, to at least find the impala. It's common knowledge that if you find that car, Dean isn't far away. I’d parked my truck two spaces down, and luckily we were within walking distance of my favourite café, Jolenes’. It was my safe space. The place that I would finally tell him about Levi.

I pulled the sleeves of my soft cardigan down over my hands to stop myself from chewing nervously on my nails. Leaving the safety of my truck, I paced over to the black Chevy and stood by it, determined to speak to Dean as soon as possible. I knew that if I had stayed sitting behind my own wheel, there was a huge chance that I'd chicken out and just drive away. As I waited I checked over the car in front of me, admiring how he still kept it spotless after all these years. Unable to stop myself, I let my gaze drift over to the backseat, the events that unfurled on the soft leather racing to mind. I pulled my lip between my teeth, unable to resist the replay of memories.

“You have good taste in cars.”

I practically launched out my skin as the voice came from behind me. I could hear the amusement in his voice from a few feet away. I spun on my heel and our eyes locked, the charming grin slipping slightly from Deans’ lips when he realised it was me. The playfulness in his features quickly softened, a true, genuine smile now gracing his lips.

“Dean…” I suddenly felt breathless, but despite my nerves I returned his smile in kind.

“It's good to see you (Y/n),” he stepped forward and pulled me into his arms, enveloping me in his entirety. I closed my eyes as I hugged him back, wrapping my arms around his neck and taking a deep breath, my brain tingling at his familiar scent.

“You too, Dean. It's been too long.”

After a moment we released each other and Dean stood up straight, smiling at me again with a soft twinkle in his eye. We both flinched slightly when someone cleared their throat and he took a step back. 

“Oh, uh, (Y/n), this is Sam, my younger brother,” he patted the shoulder of the young man standing beside him, and I instantly recognised him from the dessert parlour. He was tall, taller than Dean even, which was one hell of an accomplishment, and his face held a similar boyish charm to Deans. Yet he looked softer around the edges, like he hadn't been hardened by life too much yet.

“It's a pleasure, I'm (Y/n). I've known you're brother for a while,” I smiled as I shook his hand, taking note of the rough calluses beginning to form on his palms. “He used to talk about you all the time, apparently you're the smart one of the family,” with a grin and a quick glance at Dean, I tested the waters with humour. If he laughed or took the blow like a champ, now was a good time to talk to him. Sam chuckled, squeezing my hand slightly in his before letting it go. 

“Ouch… (Y/n), sweetheart, aren't you supposed to be on my side here? Y’know, with our history and all…?” he feigned hurt with a hand on his chest before his lips twitched up and he shot me a wink.

“I mean… she's not wrong,” Sam laughed, dropping his hands lazily into his pockets.

“Hey, I'm just going on what you told me, Dean. Don't hold that against me,” I grinned at them both, unsure of what to do with my hands so I crossed them across my chest.

A small breath of silence passed between us, Deans’ gaze holding mine with an intensity that made me want to look away. I didn't. Sam cleared his throat again, clapping his hand to Deans’ shoulder before taking a step back.

“I'll, uh, give you guys a few minutes,” and with an appreciative nod from Dean, Sam gave us some space. With his younger brother gone, my heart began to flutter in my chest. The time to break the news was getting closer, and my nerves were on edge. On fire.

“So,” he started, taking a step closer with a deep breath, “how's it going? How long has it been?”

“Nine years,” I was almost too hot on the mark, my words coming out faster than I'd intended and Dean blinked slightly. I sighed, looking down. “There's been a lot going on, and honestly, I've really needed you at times. You're a hard man to find Dean Winchester.” 

“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” his brows pinched apologetically and he reached for my hand, tracing my knuckles with his thumb. I took a deep breath and met his gaze again.

“Do you… do you have some time? I need to talk to you. It's important, and if I don't do it now, I don't know if I'll get another chance.” 

He nodded slowly, giving my hand a squeeze, releasing it hesitantly with a slight wince to his features.

“Uh oh,” he said, “am I in trouble?”

I laughed, the sound light off my chest.

“Oh Dean,” I reached up to touch his face, and his instinctive reaction was to lean into my palm, “you don't know the half of it.” 

The walk to the café had been pleasant. We chatted about what we'd been up to since we last met - Dean revealing he was still in the same line of work and had travelled around a lot, never really settling down. There was something about that nugget of information that made my stomach twist in knots. He learnt I was still a receptionist, this time at the local garage  instead of the large dealership I had scored before. He asked why I'd changed, to go to something smaller, lesser, and my silence urged him to wait until we were at our destination. He knew I was anxious, and he did his best to keep conversation light and breezy until the time was right. To an untrained eye he was unphased, yet I could tell from the lip nibbling and flitting gaze that he was nervous too.

Do you think he's already guessed it?

The bell jingled as we walked in, the two baristas looking up and instantly greeting me with a wave and a smile.

“Hey (Y/n)! Your couch is free,” the first barista, a young man around my age with soft blond curls waved to me across the counter, his brilliant grin making me smile with a comforting familiarity. “Your usual?”

“Yes please! Thanks, Jake,” I returned the friendliness, stepping around the tables until we arrived at my favourite spot.

“And for your… date?” He gestured to Dean, who was now shrugging off his leather jacket, “what can I get for you pal?” 

Dean hesitated, before just holding his hands up.

“Uhhh, I don't know, I guess I'll have what she's having.”

With our hot beverages on their way, I sat down in my usual nook in the corner whilst Dean sat down opposite, in that same plush armchair that Kat had sat in yesterday. Where Kat had been swallowed by the chair and its all-consuming cushions, Dean had the opposite effect. He made the chair look small under his broad form, like it was made for a child. There were a few moments of silence, neither of us really knowing where to start. So I bit the bullet.

“Dean… before I tell you anything, just know that I've been trying to get hold of you on and off for years. Your number always seemed to go to voicemail and I never got a call back. So please just… know I tried.” 

I looked up and he was totally engaged, already hanging off every word I said as he leant forward, his elbows on his knees. Our attention pulled away from each other briefly as our coffees arrived, hand delivered by the second barista - a woman a few years older than myself with a jet black pixie cut.

“Thanks Emily, you're an angel,” I grasped the mug before she even had a chance to put it on the table and clutched it in my lap, letting the warmth seep through my palms to help soothe my nerves. 

“No worries babes, you two have fun,” she looked between Dean and me with a playful smirk, throwing me a wink before she turned around. 

Great, the gossip starts now.

I turned back to Dean who was now sitting on the edge of his seat. I took a deep breath.

Do it now.

“Dean, I have a son.”

I watched his face twitch slightly, almost like it dropped in disappointment, however it was so fleeting across his features that it was hard to tell. He pulled a strained smile onto his lips.

“(Y/n) that's great, I'm happy for you,” he looked down at his boots briefly, choosing his next words, “I guess this is you telling me to stay away, huh? Now that you have a family and all. It's ok, I get it.”

I shook my head, placing my cup on the table so I could pull myself to sit on the edge of the couch, almost mirroring Dean.

“No, no Dean, that's not- look, what I'm saying is…” another deep breath, “you, have a son.”

I watched his eyes go wide, unsure if he heard me correctly.

“What?” His voice was breathy.

I looked down into my mug for a second, choosing my words. 

“I have a little boy; he's eight, his name is Levi…and he's yours, Dean. He's your son.”

I dared to look up at him, watching his eyes go wider and his mind empty of thoughts. Either that, or his mind is racing so fast that it's left his body on standby. I gave him a few minutes to process the news. Or at least process it the best he could as it would likely be days or weeks before this fully sunk in. Nervousness prickled at my own skin, my worst fears of rejection bubbling to the surface again at his silence. I sighed.

“It’s ok, Dean, I’m not expecting you to-”

He stood abruptly, stepped over the coffee table and pulled me to my feet, wrapping his strong arms around me in a crushing grip. His arms were so tight that it almost winded me, yet I returned his embrace. The feeling of his lips on the top of my head surprised me as he kissed my hair, the sensation warm and comforting. He placed one, two more kisses before he cupped my face in his large hands, his rough palms gentle against my cheeks as I locked eyes with him. The sight was beautiful. The annoyance and exasperation that I expected to be met with was nowhere to be seen, and I saw no shadow of negativity within those evergreen eyes. All I saw was love. Pride. Joy. Excitement. The relief washing over me felt the same as climbing into your nice, warm comfy bed when on the brink of exhaustion. 

“I’m a dad?” his voice cracked slightly whilst his eyes shimmered.

I nodded as a grin erupted across his face, followed by an airy, almost unbelieving chuckle.

“Holy fuck, (Y/n)-”

“You’re not mad?” my voice was quiet.

“What?” Dean looked at me as though I’d grown a second head, “of course not. Why would I be mad?”

“Because it’s been nine years since we last saw each other, and suddenly this woman who you’ve not spoken to in nearly a decade drops the biggest truth bomb on you. A truth bomb  that I know you definitely weren’t expecting,” I try to step back but he pulls me in for another hug, squeezing the air out of me a second time.

“(Y/n), sweetheart, this is the best bit of news I’ve had in a long, long time.”

I smiled into his chest, freeing my arms to wrap them around his neck and pull him down into a hug of my own. We stood for a moment in our embrace as the coffee shop busied around us. I knew this shop and I knew this town and people would soon start to talk, start to try and figure out Dean: like who is he? How does he know (Y/n)? Why are they acting so familiar? Is he trouble? But that was all unimportant rubbish that I would deal with later. Right now, Levis father was here, and he knew. For the first time in my adult life I felt like I wasn’t keeping some devastating secret from an incredible man, and it was like I could breathe again. 

Pulling away from Deans’ bear hug, I tucked the wisps of hair away that had come loose from my claw grip and grinned up at him, reaching for his hand. I held it in mine as I swayed slightly on the spot, like an excited schoolgirl who’d just been asked on her first date. Dean smiled down at me, the sort of smile that shone on top of the world.

“So…” I started, biting my lip slightly.

“Do you want to meet your son?”

Next Chapter: Chapter 3

Taglist: @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @megara0224 @libby99hb @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung @king-of-milf-lovers @xshortputax @jerksbitch @multifandoms-saidwhat @deans-baby-momma @writersxxx @rox2008 @jeysbae @ladykitana90 @proudbisexual @ladysparkles78 @elenasalvatore1 @bxtchboy69 @saemiau @lilithlunastark @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @riah1606 @impala67rollingthroughtown

[reveluving]

angel in hell ; the ghoul x reader

summary: hell on earth is more tolerable with his light by his side.

warnings: allusions to s~mut (minors DNI!), very brief mentions of attempted su~icide, reader as an 'entertainer' is used loosely (for your creativity!), cocky (softer) hard-ass x beautiful badass darling trope mmm, reader was born before the war, age gap but not really (think him in his 40s & you in your 20s/30s but in 200-ish years old), strong language, bits of angst and more fluff overall!

a/n: just a little tester because I could not help it HAHAHA had this in my mind for a few days, and now that I've started the show, I have an excuse to post it 💅🏼 please enjoy & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» curious about my writing? come & check out my main m.list!

'You wondered how your dead father would react to your relationship with a deadly and smitten cowpoke.' ;

You were an entertainer before it all. The best of the best. A real knockout of the century and the kindest of them all.

If only you knew it had its downsides.

Your admirer (read: obsessor) being none other than the Overseer of 33 himself, forcing you into the vault lifestyle with him to be his beloved.

But your mental strength, your humanity, your free will was unbudgeable.

Not even the experiments could budge you.

Not until that one fucking serum.

You tried everything. Before and after your escape.

But the afterlife, or whatever the hell that existed outside of this godforsaken world, just wouldn't take you.

Your mama always said that by living a good, long life, the universe gets to show you what they had to offer.

Thank the heavens she didn't live long enough to take her words back, if she knew the hell her only daughter was put into.

And though the Vault taught you how to survive better than the poor souls on the surface, sometimes you wished you didn't remember how to. Yearning for the ignorance and the near-zombified state they were in over the pristine lifestyle that would jump out of you every once in a while.

At least whatever the underground snakes injected you with kept your youth intact.

Though, you weren't the only one reminiscing your old days, remembering the smiles that immediately bloomed from your presence.

Howard, The Ghoul remembers you.

Nobody at his great age could ever forget a sweet face like yours. Standing out from all the yuppies, despite being well-off yourself at the time, much like you were now. You knew your rights from your wrongs, and they were never for show. Regardless of the bags under your eyes on sleepless nights, or the scars that would decorate your skin after a rough-up, just until your curse magically wooshes it away.

Despite your scoffs, your wave-offs over your old life, that the present had no need for an entertainer, he would say otherwise.

All. The. Time.

Always countering your modesty with the highest praises, albeit sometimes lewdly.

But… not always.

He knew that you knew you were one of a kind if he was able to tell you his life before the bombs dropped. That he was able to tell you stories of his late family. That he was able to tell you that you were 'somethin' special t'him'.

You wondered how your dead father would react to your relationship with a deadly and smitten cowpoke.

But you were on your own now.

Always been for over two hundred fucking years.

At least, that was the way it was before.

Not anymore. Not with the foul-mouthed gunslinger and his pooch, who, to the chagrin of your man, adored you more than him.

Which, really, how couldn't you talk Howard's ear off for harming the sweetheart at first?

Disbelief was something he had lived with from the day he stumbled upon you in the badlands one fine night. The pretty little lady who didn't look like she could hurt a fly back then now aimed her trusty rifle at him with an unlit ciggy in between your lips. Not a tremor in sight as you looked through your scope.

He was half-tempted to be shot.

And well, you did, taking the shot. It did as good as a chocolate teapot, and as you quickly tried to reload, he took a good look at you.

You were a sight for sore eyes before, but today, gorgeous wasn't even cutting it, and if he wasn't daydreaming about your messy hair and sorry clothing article for a sleepwear, then he definitely was about that one night—your first night.

How you teasingly pulled the wide collar of your top down, revealing more and more of your velvety skin. How gentle your kisses were, brushing your lips along his neck like he'd finally break after a lifespan of wandering. How you looked up at him, lips parted and eyes dazed with lust and dare he say, affection.

He knew he was a goner.

But like all the time, he wanted to be greedy.

And for once in his life, after an eternity, the future was finally shedding him some light of hope.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

a/n: if something ain't right, no it isn't ❤️ don't worry about it, still hope you enjoy! ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[ihavethedreamies]

Her Hero | Lee Know

Lee Minho - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5k

Pairing: Podocheong! Lee Know x Noble! AFAB! Reader

(The Podocheong were like the police of Joseon Era Korea)

Genre: Historical AU!, Joseon Era, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Frenemies-to-Lovers (ish)

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Pet Names (Sweetheart mostly), Fingering, First Times (Readers), Breeding Kink (kinda), Breathplay, A Single Spank, Masochist! Reader (surprise~!), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…)

Summary: When a political rival of your father kidnaps you for a ransom, your father calls on the Podocheong (Police) to rescue you. An extremely handsome Bujang (Lieutenant) rescues you, but you would be loathe to admit you need (and like) a hero.

Author's Note: Here's Lee Know's!! Working on Changbin's, should be up very soon.

At the bottom I will have a guide for all the untranslated words I use, most of which are to do with the clothing they wear.

P.S. I'm having so much fun with these but I have to help watch our dog so she doesn't get on my uncle's furniture and so then I can't work on these during the day :\

Also, if any of my historical information/words are inaccurate, I apologize, I did the best with what research I could and what I know from watching too many historical K-Dramas.

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Your father was an important man who did important things. Unfortunately, some people didn't like the things he did or the way he did them. Namely, the Right State Minister…your father was the Left State Minister, so they should work together. No. They hated each other. Even more so because your father refused to let you marry the other Minister's son. That made the other man's son hate you…for some reason, like you had any say in the matter. You didn't even know the guy existed till your father told you he had prevented your marriage.

One day, as you waited by the entrance to your family's estate, you draped a sseugaechima over your head, waiting for your brother to join you. He was going to escort you to your friend's house, and you were getting impatient.

"Sorry!" He dashed through the courtyard, leaning down and panting to catch his breath. When he stood, the top of his gat wacked you on the chin and you flinched back.

"Sorry!" He floundered, peeling the head covering off so he could look at your annoyed face for any injury. He was such a klutz but at least he tried to make up for it.

"Let's just go please, orabeoni." You sniffed, recovering your head and you left the estate grounds. Your older brother weaved through the crowd, you held onto the belt of his hanbok to make sure you didn't get separated. There must have been some kind of big event or something going on because there were people everywhere.

"Ah, wait!" You cried out, someone bumped into you hard, and you let go of your brother.

"(Y/N)?" He turned around, his height allowing him to look over most of the crowd, but your own height hid you more. You were shoved and pushed as people whirled around you and called his name out.

"(Y/N)!" He shouted, but before you could reply, something hit you hard in the back of the head and you saw black.

~~~

When you woke up, you hurt. Your head hurt the most, but your whole body was sore. As your senses returned, you looked around in confusion. You were in a bedroom of what looked like an inn or other kind of lodging. Sitting up from the bed, you rubbed at the back of your head, looking around. Did your brother find you? If so, why did he bring you to a lodging rather than just back to your home? He also wasn't in the room. Did you pass out and a random person bring you here till you woke up? At the other side of the room, on the other side of a folding divider, you heard the door open. Unfortunately, it was not your brother that came in, you actually had no idea who it was. He was dressed all in black and his face was even covered.

"W-who are you?" You backed up on the bed, back hitting the wall, like that would really be of any use. He didn't say anything, but he pulled out a dagger and you froze in shock. Logically, you knew you could scream, but you couldn't physically get one out. He stalked forward and you closed your eyes, waiting for the worst. You squeaked when he grabbed your hair, right above where your daenggi was tied, and…cut your hair. He left as quickly as he came, the end of your hair along with the ribbon in his hand. What? Reaching around, you brought your hair over your shoulder to look at where he cut, nearly half of the length was gone.

"That-" you were madder more than anything else. Couldn't he have just undone the ribbon to use as proof? It was clear he didn't want to hurt you because you were in a nice room, not tied up, and other than a throbbing spot on the back of your head, you were unharmed.

After what felt like around an hour of sitting in the corner, contemplating what to do, you got up to look around. You weren't sure about trying to escape. Just because you were unhurt up until then didn't mean your captor would be so merciful if you tried to leave. Plus, you might get more hurt escaping, you were pretty sure you were on a second or even third floor. Just to check though…nope, the window shutters were locked from the other side it seemed. Plus, obviously, so was the door. Great. As time ticked by, you messed with the various objects of décor, trying to prevent boredom. Didn't work. All the drawers were empty and there wasn't even a baduk board for you to mess around with. After being nosy even more, you found a book wedged in the back of a dresser, between the back panel of the drawer and the piece as a whole. You weren't sure how it got back there and when you finally yanked it out, you sighed.

"Better than nothing." It was some old romance book that had been there for probably at least ten years. Sitting at a table in the room, you started the read, not really enjoying it, but it was better than nothing. More time passed and you were glad there was at least a separate room with a chamber pot, but it was getting dark. Your stomach rumbled and you wondered just how long you had been out cold because you and your brother had left the estate fairly early in the morning. When night fell, you found a lantern but had no way to light it. So, you had to sit in the dark, only the faint light of the moon flowed in through the slits of the locked shutters. Sitting back on the bed, your stomach growled again, and you sighed, laying down. You might as well pass time with sleep.

~~~

You were startled awake when there was a loud commotion outside of not just the lodging but also your room. Getting up from the bed you went to try and look through the slats of the windows but couldn't see much. There was a loud crash, and you turned around just in time to see the door break into pieces as someone kicked it open, not even bothering to try and unlock it first. It was the Podocheong! The man that came in had the uniform of a Bujang, and he sighed in relief upon seeing you. Another officer came in then, taller than the man who had kicked the door in.

"We believe we arrested all of the perpetrators, sir." He bowed slightly to the lieutenant, and he nodded, waving him off.

"Are you okay, Lady (Y/N)?" He came forward, brow furrowed in worry, looking over you. You shrunk under his gaze, embarrassed, hiding your face. His hands went to your jaw, making you look at him so he could see if your face was harmed. Your cheeks felt hot under his thumbs, he was strikingly attractive, but also familiar.

"When your brother couldn't find you, he came straight to me." He told you, letting you go, and you nodded, stepping back, looking away again. He then realized how intimate his action had been, and he bowed, apologizing.

"Are you friends with my orabeoni?"

"Yes, my lady. When we both got to your estate to look for you, your father informed us that a ransom letter had been sent for your safe return. I apologize for not getting here much sooner." You shook your head, casting a glance up at him, not sure if you were allowed to really show him your face.

"Here." He removed his jeonbok, draping it over your head so you could hide under it. Thanking him gently, you pulled it down over your more, it smelled like him, which was amazing.

"Let's get you home."

"W-what is your name?"

"Minho of the Lee clan, my lady."

~~~

When you returned home, not just your mother and brother were in tears like you expected, but your father was as well. He wasn't cold normally, but he just had better control of his emotions.

"Thank you, hyungnim." Your brother bowed to Bujang Minho, still sniffing a bit.

"Yes, we cannot begin to express our gratitude, Bujang." Your father thanked him as well and you let your mother lead you further into the estate so she could hug you. You hugged her tightly back, incredibly grateful to be home safe.

~~~

You weren't sure what Minho had asked of your father in return for rescuing you, but he seemed to be hanging around a lot. While, yes, he was mostly with your brother, you would always find him watching you if you happened to be around or passed by. One day you were sitting at the edge of your family's pond under a parasol, messing around with some embroidery work. You were not very good at it even though you enjoyed it.

"Is that supposed to be a flower?" You heard a teasing remark to your side, and you sent a glare at the owner, but, it was not your brother. Quickly, your face reddened, and you looked back down.

"U-uh yes, but as you can see, I am a little poor at this." You huffed a nervous laugh.

"Then why are you doing it?"

"I like it, just-" You yelped when you poked yourself with the needle, quickly putting the tip of your finger in your mouth. Setting the frame on the ground and putting the needle back in the cushion, you ran a finger over the messy stitching.

"What else do you like to do?" You froze when he sat down next to you, not close enough to touch you, but you weren't expecting it. He wasn't in his Podocheong uniform, the light greenish-blue fabric of his hanbok complimented him well. Looking away from where the material seemed to be struggling over his chest, you cleared your throat.

"I enjoy painting, but once again, I'm not great at it."

"Is there anything you enjoy that you are good at?" You saw him tilt his head to rest it on his fist, elbow resting on his knee, from the side of your eye.

"I…" You were a little stumped.

"N-not really." You enjoyed creative and artistic work, but you were not skilled in the field.

"That's not what your brother told me." Your eyes widened and you shot him a wary look.

"Your father isn't even here." Minho rolled his eyes, and you clenched your jaw. He was kind of getting on your nerves. Mostly because he was stupidly attractive, and you didn't like being teased to begin with.

"I haven't shot a bow in years." You whispered, still weary.

"Worried a man won't want to marry you if you can fight?"

"Archery isn't fighting, and I'm not worried about that." You stood up then, leaving the parasol jabbed in the ground, gathering up your frame and embroidery basket, walking around him to head back to your room.

"Let's go do it." He caught up to you, walking backwards, smirking as he walked ahead of you.

"No." It was too risky, you got caught last time your brother took you to his make-shift archery range.

"We can go to the Podocheong training area, no one will know. No one's there now." You had reached the stairs to get up onto the deck of your house, and you halted at the bottom. The offer was extremely tempting…

"Fine, let me get something to change into."

With a bundle of your brother's old clothes in tow, Minho helped you sneak off the estate grounds. He had at least told your brother, so no one thought you got kidnapped again. Your father didn't check on you after dark so he wouldn't know you weren't in your room. After you arrived at the training grounds, you changed in a bathing room and came out.

"You really look like your brother like that." Minho scoffed and you rolled your eyes.

"I know." You sniffed and he led you toward the back where the archery targets were set up. Without waiting for his prompt, you looked over the different bows on the rack and picked one, then grabbed a quiver as well. It felt instantly familiar, and you were glad for that, but your aim was rusty.

"You're supposed to hit the middle." Minho hummed next to you, pointing to where you had hit off to the side quite a bit.

"I know." You grit your teeth, shooting off another arrow and it missed as well. Was it the bow?

"Here." He moved to adjust your grip on the bow, and you yanked away from his hold.

"I don't need your help." You were embarrassed because you said archery was something you were actually good at.

"You did a few weeks ago." The little string of control you had snapped, the fire of your annoyance singing the ends, and you turned to him, glaring at him straight in the eye.

"What, you want me to say thank you? After my father showered you with gifts and allowed you to loiter around our estate? Fall to my knees in gratitude to my hero? Huh? If you want that go to another girl." You turned back away from him, not noticing his amused grin and you shot another arrow, hitting the red bullseye.

"What?" You nearly growled, standing at the door to your room's building, having opened it to find Minho leaning on the wooden column next to the stairs. He was relentless for the next few weeks, and you were really pissed. More so that you missed when he wouldn't show up with that stupid smirk on his pretty face. Why were you starting to like him when he just teased you all the damn time? Wasn't he your brother's friend? He constantly pestered you to go shoot with him, or go ride on his horse, or some other stuff, and you said no to almost everything. You would only eat with him if he brought snacks or a meal because who says no to food?

"I think you dropped this." You looked to see your eunjangdo dangling from his index finger.

"Give it!" You swiped at it, but he held it up and back behind him so you couldn't reach it. The silver shined in the sun, and you jumped to grab it, falling onto him when you couldn't make it.

"Give it back!" You pressed against him more, fingers barely touching the sheath of the dagger.

"Hm, no." He chuckled and you yiped when he wrapped his other arm around you, holding you to him. Your face bloomed with heat, and you could even see the red on the tip of your nose when you looked at his face, very close to yours.

"I really should stop helping you if you don't want a hero so bad." He finally relented and brought the dagger back down, but he didn't let you go. He was warm against you, and you could feel the muscle he had underneath the layers of clothes and even through your own. Your head was swimming, and you didn't even move to grab your eunjangdo from him when it was within reach.

"Have you heard the rumor about the watermill behind your house by the stream?" Instantly you knew what he was talking about.

"Y-You!" Your face's redness changed from embarrassment to rage, and you pulled away from him, slapping him hard, then turning on your heel and going back inside, the silver dagger still dangling in his grasp.

You didn't want to admit why you were crying, but you held the cushion to your chest closer, pressing your tear-stained face into the pink silk. You weren't overly fond of romance and sweet gestures, but the crassness of his suggestion hurt. Did he only want to bed you and then move on? You hoped deep inside he liked you back. And it wasn't until you cried for a good hour that you realized why you were so upset. You liked him. That’s why you wanted him to like you back.

"Dammit." You sniffed, wiping hard at your face with your sleeve.

"(Y/N)?" A soft voice called from just outside your window, only moonlight coming in through it, one small candle illuminating your room softly.

"(Y/N)? I know you're awake." You registered the owner of the voice, and you deflated further into your cushions.

"Go away." You spat at him.

"(Y/N), please?" Minho's tone was like nothing you had heard before, and it was beginning to compel you.

"No." He could probably hear the insincerity in your voice.

"(Y/N), sweetheart, please?" Your heart stopped, then sped into a gallop when he called you that. Your body seemed to act at the will of your heart and not your brain, because you got up, using a step stool, and opened the window. He smiled, genuinely, and it made you swallow hard. You wanted to cry again.

"I'm so sorry." He stepped forward, the window just the right height for him to rest his arms on the sill from where he stood on the porch. You didn't say anything, you were worried you would burst into tears if you tried.

"I said something horrible; I was just trying to tease you and I hurt you. Will you forgive me?" You hadn't heard such a sincere tone from him since he rescued you at the lodging. Your uncertain gaze met his intense one and he sighed.

"What you said awhile back made me think. You said that your father showered me with gifts for saving you? He didn't."

"But…orabeoni said you got confections and a bunch of other stuff."

"That was from him and your mother. Your father had a different gift, but I told him I didn't want it. Not without you agreeing." What?

"Huh?" He smiled at the clear confusion all over your face, the sad look falling off.

"Your father offered you as a gift. As my wife. I said yes, but I wanted to court you first. I didn't do a great job though I guess." Minho sighed and you couldn't hold back then, tears spilling over your cheeks.

"(Y/N)?" He stood up straight and you stepped closer, and he gently cupped your cheek in his hand.

"You should have just said so, you stupid idiot." You hitched a sob with each word, and he smiled, letting out a small laugh.

"Yes. I should have."

~~~

It seemed, to Minho even more than you, the wedding couldn't have been soon enough. It was also hard to hide from your family just how clingy he was. If no one was around, his arms were around you at the very least. He had you sit in his lap while you did most things, his chin on your shoulder, watching you sew or read. More than just a few times he would be standing next to you or hugging you and his hand would sneak lower than he really should have put it. The first time he got a not-very-strong hit to his chest, and he just chuckled.

You were a bit sad to move out of your family home, but you and he were given your own separate house on his father's estate, so far on the edge of the land that it felt like your own. As you stood in your new bedroom, dressed only in your sokchima, flinching at every noise as if it was your… You giggled finally thinking of him as your husband, and you hopped a little with glee. Every noise though made you hope that it was him, returning from his own bath, but most of the time it was just an animal outside, or the wind making the window shutters creak slightly.

Finally, the door to the bedroom opened and he peaked his head in, a serious look on his face.

"Are you ready, (Y/N)? Because I'm running out of restraint." The sharp look in his eyes made you shiver, but you nodded anyway. As he stalked in, the door falling shut behind him, he tugged at the goreum of his sokjeogori, and time slowed down as it fell to the floor. Your eyes skated over the skin that he revealed, and you didn't have time to react, he scooped you up in his arms and easily carried you to the bed. He pinned you to the yo, raised onto a platform and you gasped as his lips sealed over yours. His hand snuck under your head, fingers weaving through your hair at the base of your braid, pressing you even closer to him.

His other hand wandered, snaking up your leg, pushing your sokchima up higher and higher. Feeling his hands on your bare skin made you shiver despite the heat he seemed to be setting. You panted when he finally pulled his tongue out of your mouth, licking his lips like a hungry dog. His eyes though reminded you of a cat on the hunt.

"How rough can I be?" Minho's lips brushed the skin of your neck as he spoke, then his mouth attached, and he sucked hard. You huffed at the feeling; mind not able to stay on track for very long.

"Huh?" You finally managed to get out, hands balled into fists over his shoulders, your pulse seeming to thud harder where he had sucked the skin nearly raw.

"I've been waiting to have you so long, sweetheart, that I just want to breed you like a bitch in heat." The vulgarity of his words shocked you, but it somehow fueled your arousal rather than offending you.

"I want to brand you as mine." He licked a path over your throat, ending at the hickey he had left under your ear. His blunt nails dug into the flesh of your upper thigh as he pulled it up to his waist, his hand sliding down to cup your rear.

"M-Minho-!" You couldn't help but throw your head back with an airy moan as he rolled his hips against yours, his hard cock pressing to your bare core through his pants.

"Tell me now, so I can slow down." You could hear the strain in his voice, his breathing was hard too.

"Don't." So, he didn't. He didn't hesitate either and you squeaked when he rolled you over underneath him, landing on your stomach. Instead of untying your sokchima like a civilized person, he tore the straps at the seams, then yanked the white garment from you and tossed it to the side, leaving you completely naked. Your skin immediately rose into goosebumps from the sudden chill, but the heat of his bare chest pressing to your back instantly took over.

"You're just perfect." He hummed, nearly laying completely on top of you, hard cock nestled in the crest of your butt. Minho's arm snuck under you, sliding up to nestle between your breasts, his hand gripping your jaw. You whimpered at the restraining feeling even though it was nowhere close to tight, and you felt his dick twitch at the noise. His free hand also snuck underneath you, holding himself up with pure core strength, only the elbow of the arm holding you supporting him. As his fingertips ran over your lower stomach you sighed, the muscles twitching at the stimulation. He hummed and you recognized the noise that he always made when he smirked, and your body jerked when his fingers finally met your cunt.

"So wet already, sweetheart." His nose nuzzled behind your ear, the hand at your jaw loosening even further but sliding down just a bit to cup your throat. Quickly, his index finger brushed over your clit, and you whined, and he chuckled, feeling the vibration at his palm.

"M-Minho…" Your head was swimming, and you let out a choking noise when he buried a finger into you.

"Don't worry sweetheart, I'll loosen your tight cunt enough to take my cock." While Minho wasn't always outstandingly proper with you, his crass words still surprised you some. They went straight to your core though, and he felt your gummy walls spasm around the single digit. Slowly, he pumped his finger till you relaxed, the slight sting from the entrance dissipating. You had never even used your own fingers and based off what you felt nestled into your backside, you did need to get prepped. Whether it was on purpose or not, when Minho finally added a second finger, his hand at your throat tightened just enough to put slight pressure on your windpipe. Your cunt spasmed again, harder, and your heart sped up as well, wondering why the sensation excited you so much.

"Oh?" He chuckled, speeding up his hand at your pussy, palm pressing to your throat a bit harder. His palm pressed at your clit and a strong pulse hit your core, and it was getting stronger and stronger.

"W-wait, Minho!" You gasped, having an idea that you were close even if you had never felt it. The intensity startled you a bit.

"Go ahead, (Y/N), fall apart." The hand at your throat pressed enough to make your vision swim and you keened out a moan as you came. He huffed at the squeeze on his fingers, but helped you ride the high out, kissing behind your ear as he did. When he unwrapped his arms from around you, you fell limp on the bedding, still trying to catch your breath. Swallowing a few times to ease the slight soreness of your throat, you heard him shuffle. You, however, had no time to look behind you at him before his hands were on your hips, pulling them up, forcing your butt up in the air.

"What are you-?"

"I said I wanted to breed you like a bitch in heat." Oh, he meant it literally. Unfortunately for you, he hadn't given you the chance to see him bare, because you were not prepared for when he brought the head of his cock to your entrance.

"Breathe, sweetheart." His hands wrapped around your waist, thumbs rubbing circles into the skin of your back, and you focused on measured breaths as the fat head of his dick finally started to press in. Stinging heat seared through you from your core out as he entered, and you couldn't tell what it felt like. Somehow it hurt like hell but also felt so good, so much so you thought you might pass out. You fisted the bedding below you, gasping for air as he slid in, the slick of your arousal aiding the entrance.

"Your cunt's hugging my cock so good~" Minho sighed, the noise turning into a groan as he buried even further. How much further would he go? The searing heat was so deep you wondered if he would stop anytime soon.

"Just a bit…" He chuckled when he finally bottomed out, the tip pressing snugly to the base of your womb. Tears had sprung to your eyes, your whole face felt hot, and you panted hard, trying to get used to the odd feeling. Yes, it hurt, but it felt so much better than you thought it would.

"Tell em when you're ready, my love." He leaned over you again, kissing your shoulder gently and petting your hair.

"Go." You answered almost immediately, and his soft touches halted.

"Love, are you sure?"

"Fuck, please!" You weren't sure why you needed him to start already, logic told you it would hurt, but you craved it. It felt so dirty to like the burn so much, but you couldn't help it.

"Yeah?"

"Please!" Your breath was forced from your lungs when he rolled his hips, pulling out halfway before snapping back into you, hard. He felt your core pulse around him, a rush of your arousal soaking his cock, and he grinned like a madman.

"So fucking perfect." He immediately began a brutal pace, but still held back some, only pulling out half before driving his cock back home, battering your womb.

"W-wait, oh! Ah! Fuck!" The same waves of pleasure were already cresting, so much stronger than before and Minho relished in feeling the clench of your gummy walls around his cock instead of his fingers.

"So good." He mumbled to himself, licking his lips and as you got closer…

"Fuck!" You squealed when his hand came down on your ass, leaving a red print on your skin and you came again. He gasped a laugh as your arousal drenched his cock and his groin, leaving a shining trail down both your thighs. Minho laughed at your whine of disapproval when he pulled out, but it turned to a gasp as he flipped you over. He threw one of your legs over his shoulder, ankle at his ear, holding the other to his side, and he filled you again. Your vision spotted from the stinging pleasure the overstimulation was causing you, but you focused on his gorgeous face. He had that cocky smirk on his face, sweat beading down from his forehead and you whimpered at the sight. With what little strength you had, you propped yourself up to see where he was splitting you open. Whether it was the sight or his next thrust, you fell back limp and fisted the sheets as he fucked you like a rabbit. His shallow movements were even harder than before, and your eyes rolled back, back arching as your next orgasm rose.

"Oh, what a good girl, cum for me, love." Minho took your hands in his, your legs barely wrapping around him to hold on. His fingers wove through yours, lips meeting once more as his pace stuttered. He must have felt your moan against his tongue as you came once more, the tight vice of your cunt spurred him over the edge as well. Your core burned even hotter as his cum filled you to the point where it spilled from you, mixing with your own. Your body went limp, and Minho hummed, kissing your forehead.

"I love you." He left little pecks all over your face and you giggled sleepily.

"I love you, too. I'm glad you saved me that day."

"No, (Y/N), I think you saved me."

Sseugaechima - this is the extra-skirt looking garment women would wear over their heads. Gat - this is the hat that noblemen would wear, more specifically the ones that were black and made of mesh. Orabeoni - more archaic/historical word for older brother to a girl. Hanbok - traditional/historical clothing, most people think of women's dresses, but men's clothes were called this as well. Daenggi - the ribbon that was tied around a unmarried girl's braid. Baduk - Korean word for the Chinese game of Go. Podocheong - essentially the Joseon era police. Bujang - a Lieutenant-level position in the Podocheong. Jeonbok - kind of like a long vest worn over a hanbok. Hyungnim - a more commonly used term historically for a man to an older brother or friend. Eunjangdo - a silver dagger that many women wore as an accessory, mostly nobles. Sokchima - basically a dress/skirt like under-garment. Goreum - the ties that fastened the top of a hanbok. Sokjeogori - a shirt worn as an undergarment. Yo - a Korean floor mattress.

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[restinslices]

Bi-Han As A Dad (fluff edition)

I’m currently writing a fluff one shot of Bi-Han as a dad, but with the world being boo-boo, I thought why not drop a few headcanons I have until it’s done. Enjoy. (Also I love this gif).

It’s very easy to paint Bi-Han as someone who would be a terrible and strict dad

We not for that over here tho

Is Bi-Han strict? Absolutely. But he’s strict because he wants his kids to be focused and become the best warrior they can

Bi-Han cuts his kids fruit and leaves it outside their rooms if they’re sleeping

He genuinely believes they can succeed at whatever they want to if they try hard enough

Do not ever let his kid get bullied. I swear to y’all this man does not care that hitting kids is frowned upon

Or the parent gotta run him the fair one

Either way, that shit is not sliding

Bi-Han has nicknames for his kids

I don’t see them being smth like “oh my little boo boo cake”, but smth like 小天使 (Little Angel) or 小战士 (Little Warrior)

I got those from google so I’m HOPING they’re not wrong-

Since he’s the oldest brother, he has experience caring for younger people when they’re ill or injured

He’s still Bi-Han though, so he’s talking shit the whole time

“You never listen to anything I say. I just speak and you don’t listen. I said wear a jacket”

He keeps mumbling things as he’s making soup. His irritation and need to parent is clashing

“爸爸 you don’t have to-“ “shut up”

If his kid is affected by the cold more than he is, he takes that into account and gets them actual winter gear

Bi-Han 🫱🏻‍🫲🏾 Black parents - getting pissed off when they see kids without a coat

Kids get hyper fixated on stupid shit and while I don’t think he’d listen to every little thing, he’s definitely a pro at pretending he’s listening

“爸爸 is the moon following us?” “Yes and it’s going to eat you if you misbehave”

Okay maybe that’s not fluffy but it’s funny

Is it manipulation to use a child’s mind to get them to behave?

“爸爸 do you think the tooth fairy will come tonight?” “If you clean your room. The tooth fairy likes clean kids”

Mansplain, Manipulate, Murder

Murder is not towards the kids obviously

Imagine a kid just running back and forth and Bi-Han is watching

He’s not stopping them. Go ahead and tire yourself out

Gives his kids very blunt advise, which is dickhead-ish, but he has good intentions

“He broke up with me!” “Some relationships are not meant to be. No point on sulking”

Dad I get it but I’m hurt right now

Thankfully, he doesn’t raise those little monsters that tear up shit constantly and are assholes to everyone

Bi-Han 🫱🏻‍🫲🏾 Black parents - seeing a kid acting up in public and telling their kid “I would’ve beat your ass if you did some shit like that”

How is this situation circling back to me?

On the real though, Bi-Han is not a perfect father but he for sure tries his best. He has a lot of hiccups because he’s not used to being in tuned with his feelings and the feelings of others, but he’s trying. I don’t see his kids ever feeling genuinely hated by him or like he doesn’t like them

They’re not Tomas-

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

DC

midnight sun by merils

Who would win: four men with guns who just happened to get Red Robin to walk into a trap, or one royally-pissed Kryptonian juggernaut?

Yeah, it's not even a contest.

reasons are better than rules by destiny919

"No one will actually explain Father's rules to me," Damian blurts out. "They tell me we don't kill, and killing is wrong, and Father would never do it, but no one ever actually says why! As if repeating the rule is the same as explaining it! As if I am supposed to just know, when I do not!"

Drake is quiet, eyes on something in the distance that Damian cannot see. "Damian, may I tell you a secret?"

Marvel

Thirty Hours by polaroid15

The sun sets. Peter breaks three toes and hits his head hard against concrete. There’s a steadily bleeding wound in his side that he’s staunched with his webbing and tries not to acknowledge it when it burns. He can still walk in a straight line, which is good. He’s starving and tired and cold. It’s been fifteen hours.

Or, Peter doesn't take any breaks during a lengthy fight with the Avengers. The mind-melting fever that follows really should have been expected.

Clone Wars

An Hourglass In Hand by ecarian

“I thought daemons didn’t eat,” Rex noted once, during a celebration feast, as he and Cody watched Boga devour her meal with some fascination. Varactyl she may be, but she was a tiny one. There wasn't much interior space for the truly momentous amount of meat she was ripping into.

Boga daintily rubbed her beak against a folded serviette that looked kind of like a bird, and said, prim, “I can do anything a human can do.”

“Oh?” Obi-Wan said mildly, from where he’d been tapping at a datapad. “Shall I save you a portion of these reports then?”

Set My Mind at Ease by Eightbitpale

Marshal Commander Cody - clone commanding officer of the 7th Sky Corps, second in command of the 212th attack battalion and, currently, the proud caretaker of one still-warm lightsaber - was having a very long day.

Actually, fuck that. It had been more than a long day. Long days were Cody’s bread and butter, practically his comfort zone. Marshall Commander Cody ate stim shots for breakfast and every shiny this side of Coruscant knew it. Long days were his bitch.

No, this had been more than a long day. Today had been a bad day.

———

The one where Cody and his general try their best to tell each other that they care. At least they’re trying.

Your Smile In Stone by ecarian

Wooley: can we arrest people for yelling this early?

There were two figures standing at the foot of General Kenobi's statue with their backs to Wooley, an adult with a hood, and a child with light hair. The child was pointing at a puddle of Temple tookas who were curled up in General Kenobi’s lap, lounging in the stone folds of his robes, the bend of his knee.

Wooley: belay that. Child nuisance.

The Goblin Emperor

Sweet Hope by baladric

Maia Drazhar arranges a festival, meets his gay aunt, falls in love with his secretary, and misses his mom through it all.

"In the way of true stories, there was no discernible beginning. Perhaps it had begun that first day, in the shabby receiving room at Edonomee; in the cockpit of the Radiance of Cairado; at the mooring mast of the Untheileneise Court, with that first smile.

The pith of the matter was that Maia Drazhar was wildly, tremulously in love, and love had made fools of much wiser men than he."

In All Its Forms by Anonymous

Before his father ruined everything, Nurevis Chavar only thought to introduce the new emperor to all the most beautiful things life could offer.

When he found himself free from relegation again after his father's death, would the emperor whose friendship he had sought so long ago wish his presence at court? And, if he could return to court, would his emperor wish his friendship again?

[luvsupa]

PRINCE GOJO LOVES WHO?!

tags: fem!reader x prince! gojo satoru, childhood enemies to almost lovers to enemies (☹️), NEW MALE CHARACTER!, bully!gojo, gojo gets so jealous, love (ish)-hate relationship, gojos so confusing, ANGST, royalty, arranged marriage, forbidden love, lots of tension, smut-ish (intense kissing + grinding), cheating (guys don’t ever cheat) mdni.

w.c: 2.7k

a/n: sorry for the late update 😥 got lazy 🫣 but thank u guys so much for the support! It means a lot! + likes/ reblogs are very appreciative 💆🏽‍♀️

read part 2 here!

you wake up in an unfamiliar room, the soft mattress beneath you swallowing you deeper as you open your eyes. your body aches, you look under the cover to see the formal gown from last night’s dinner.

oh. the dinner.

your heart sinks as you recall the events. ayana had set you up, and gojo... he had brought you to his room and kissed you.

how could gojo treat me like this for years, kiss me, and then continue to torment me? you shift on the king-sized bed, relieved to find you’re alone.

you wince as you get up, the tight corset beneath your gown causing discomfort. you walk to the balcony, the view similar to yours but from many floors above.

opening the double balcony doors, you step closer to the railing and look down. you recognize your parents and gojo's among the guests. there are a few others, can’t seem to recognize their faces. who could they be? did my father invite them?

“how did you sleep?”

you close your eyes in annoyance, he’s the last person you want to see right now.

“i slept fine,” you say, not turning around to look at him. he can sense your irritation. “i shouldn’t overstay my time here, so i will go back to my room.” you turn around to finally face him. his eyes soften as he sees your puffy eyes from last night.

“no, please stay. i-i don’t mind how long,” he says, his voice with desperation, reaching to grab your hand to reassure you.

“i’m not sure ayana would appreciate me staying in the room she shares with her partner,” you say, hinting at her words from last night. gojo seems taken aback by your words and lets go of your hand, his expression faltering.

“so you think she’d appreciate us kissing?” he retorts, a note of bitterness creeping into his voice.

“i- no. but she is someone you will potentially wed. out of respect for the future princess, we must stop.” with that, gojo’s entire aura shifts. his eyes darken with anger at the mention of marriage. without waiting for his response, you exit the balcony and head towards the front door.

“i explained everything to your parents,” he blurts out, desperation seeping into his tone.

“thank you,” you say softly, a mix of gratitude and sorrow in your voice, as you leave his room.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

as you make yourself look more presentable than you did in gojo’s room, you’re too scared to face your family. you don’t know what gojo said to them, but you assume it’s good.

“hi, dear, we have an important meeting you must attend,” you hear your mother's soft voice from your doorway.

“mother, if this is about last night, i will explain—”

“it is not. satoru enlightened us all, it was just a mere childhood feeling,” she reassures as she walks closer to you. “I deeply regret not hearing your side, but the past is behind us. We must discuss more relevant matters. join me in the drawing room when you're ready.”

tears almost fill your eyes as relief washes over you. finally, your family is hearing you out. you nod as she embraces you with a warm hug before exiting the room, giving you more time to prepare yourself.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

as you make your way toward the drawing room, your nerves intensify. your mother hadn’t given you any details about the meeting, and the presence of more guards than usual, dressed in different-colored uniforms, only heightens your anxiety.

standing close to the drawing room doors, the guards open them to reveal a room filled with your parents, gojo’s parents, and a few unfamiliar faces you noticed at the balcony. the mothers and other women sit on the couches, while the men stand on the other side, deep in discussion.

abruptly, your mother and the queen stand up, acknowledging your presence. “perfect! dear, we have someone who would like to meet you!” your mother says, her voice brimming with excitement. your nerves spike as an unfamiliar woman calls over someone to meet you.

too nervous to turn around, you hear footsteps approaching behind you.

“hello, my beautiful,” a voice says, making time feel as if it has stopped. you turn around to see a tall, broad-shouldered man with slicked-back blonde hair and a single curled strand. his hazel eyes gaze down at you, and you are in complete shock, struggling to respond.

“i- hi,” you manage to say, shamelessly checking him out. he chuckles at your response.

“i’m kento nanami. i’ve heard a lot about you,” he says smoothly. you’re starstruck by his beauty, still struggling to find words. your mother stands beside you, her hands on your shoulders, urging you to act proper.

“he is also a prince—soon to be king,” your mother whispers in your ear, but nanami definitely hears.

“i hope you don’t see me merely as a king. i’m here to leave the weight of royalty and simply be myself,” he says, as your mother apologizes for her rudeness. if anything, his humility makes you more attracted to him.

“well, we shall leave you two alone to get to know each other on a deeper level,” the queen says, and everyone quickly exits. your mother gives you one last look before leaving, reminding you to be on your best behaviour. for what, though?

“ugh, finally the parents have left. i was getting bored of hearing about royal duties and nonsense,” nanami says, exhaling a long-held breath as you both settle on the couches. his boldness stuns you. he doesn’t want to be bombarded with royal duties... hot.

“i wouldn’t know much about royal duties the way you do, kento. i bet our fathers chatted you into boredom,” you say, trying to lighten the mood with a joke.

“my father? no, that was my mother’s brother. my father passed years ago from an illness.”

great. he hates me.

“oh my—I-I’m so sorry, your majesty. i truly didn’t know,” you quickly say, but he gives you a warm smile, reassuring you that you simply didn’t know.

“i would also hope that you would address me without honorifics. i’d hope for my soon-to-be wife to call me by my first name.”

what?

“sorry what? wife? no offense, but i don’t know you or anything about any marriage!” you say, heart racing, realizing you were kept out of the loop.

“your parents haven’t told you? they’ve been stressing my family for years that you were waiting to meet me,” he says, very confused. you shift your position on the couch, fully facing him.

“i’ve had a few conversations about marriage but nothing about us... i-i mean i’m definitely not ready,” you say, starting to freak out. he notices and holds your hand, his much larger and radiating warmth.

“i may not understand being left out of important conversations—especially regarding your future,” he says, drawing circles on your hand. “if you are not ready to marry, i will use my royal duties and call it off.” his warm smile makes your heart feel whole. maybe he’s the one for you; he’s patient, kind, and handsome.

“kento I—”

“i will not let you marry her!” you hear as the doors burst open.

this cannot be happening.

you and nanami quickly stand up, startled by gojo’s sudden interruption.

“satoru, you cannot be—”

“get your guards and get the hell out of my estate. you are not welcome here—nor are you welcome to marry her!” gojo yells, angrily walking towards you both. nanami looks at you, just as confused as you are by gojo’s crazed state.

“excuse us, kento. i need to have a talk with him,” you say sternly, grabbing gojo’s arm and leading him out of the drawing room.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

after what felt like an eternity dragging gojo to the library, he stubbornly refused to move. finally, you arrive and shut the door behind you, locking it firmly to ensure privacy.

“what the hell is wrong with you? you can’t act like a child and barge in like that!” you say angrily, turning to face him.

“what is wrong with me? how dare you marry someone you don’t even know!” his glare intensifies, his bright blue eyes darkening with rage. “whoever i choose to wed is not your decision—nor shall it be your problem!” you retort, matching his tone.

“it is my problem—especially if you’re making reckless decisions without my presence,” he yells, causing you to scrunch your face in utter confusion. “you’re seriously unbelievable! i can’t believe it,” you say, slowly putting pieces together.

“why are you so against me being married? it shouldn’t matter to—“

“i cannot bear to lose the one person i’m deathly in love with to another man!”

what?

you look at him, wishing he had never said those words. if anything, you wished for him to torment you than confess his love for you.

“that is not fair—it is not fair and you know that,” you say, walking away from him breathing heavily as you go deeper into the library, with him following you.

“i am madly in love with you—since our childhood—“

“satoru, stop. you do not love me. you’ve been making my life a living hell. my stay here—is beyond hell,” you say as you turn and look at him with teary eyes. “the one time i have a chance at life with a loving man and you—you try to ruin it,” you say.

“would he ever love you the depths that i love you?” he questions, and you're taken aback from his words. “love? do you consider ruining my life, my reputation, humiliating me as ‘love’?”

“that was the only way i could block you out of my head—my feelings, my thoughts. i hated the fact your own parents planned to wed you off during our teenage years! i love you so much i pushed you away!” gojo confesses as you watch him pour out his deep feelings.

“so you simply ignored my feelings all those years? all the torment i endured? you only cared about yourself?”

“do you love me?” he says, ignoring what you said. you stammer at your words as he continues to repeat his words, walking closer to you as you slowly walk backwards.

“you were my first love,” you quietly say as you shake your head, your mind all jumbled up. he smiles at your words that he’s been dying to hear. “but you have proved to me over and over that i am not yours. you cannot say you love someone then treat them like shit!” you say as his smile slowly fades.

“i will marry kento and that is the end,” you say. he looks at you angrily.

“is that really what you want? to be with someone who won’t drive you wild like i do? to live a dull life, lacking the connection we have?” he steps closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. 

“you know, i could show you just how much i love you. how every night, it’s your face i see, your name i whisper. just one touch, one kiss, and you’d remember why you were mine first.”

you feel your breath hitch as he leans in, his lips almost dangerously close to yours. “i bet he would never know how to make you tremble with a single look, how to make you ache with a single touch.”

before you can respond, his lips crash against yours in a desperate and passionate hunger. his hands find your waist, pulling you close as the kiss deepens, his mouth relentless and demanding.

lust once again takes over your body, igniting a fire as you wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss more. moans escape into each other’s mouths as you both lose yourselves in the moment. his tongue traces the seam of your lips, seeking entrance, and you part willingly, tasting the sweetness of desire.

as you two are mindlessly kissing, you stumble backward, gojo’s strong arms steadying you both until you collapse onto a nearby couch. your gown drapes around you, the fabric crumpling as you straddle him, your knees sinking into the cushions on either side of his hips. his hands remain on your waist, gripping possessively, refusing to release you from his embrace.

heat radiates between you, his body pressed against yours, a desperate ache building in the pit of your stomach. the intensity of the moment fuels your movements, his hands are guiding you as you’re shamelessly grinding on his bulge. feeling him throb beneath you.

moans and gasps escape into each other’s mouths, the air thick with tension and desire. your bodies move together instinctively, as if trying to merge into one. 

you break the kiss, your lips parting from his with a soft, lingering resistance. his darkened eyes plead for more, hunger burning in their depths as he leans in again, his lips brushing against yours in a silent plea. but you resist, causing him to whine and pout at your refusal. what a baby.

“i-i will marry kento,” you say, your voice trembling slightly with the intensity of your emotions. it’s a final decision made in the heat of the moment.

gojo leans his head back with a frustrated groan from hearing another man’s name. he releases his hold on your waist as you rise from his lap, smoothing out your gown to look more presentable. his whine of protest goes unheard as you walk away, the sound of your heels against the wooden floor echoing as you walk away.

the tension hangs heavy in the library as you leave him behind—your heart racing, your mind reeling, and the taste of him lingering on your lips.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

you walk through the grand halls, your footsteps echoing softly as you make your way to the garden, seeking a moment to clear your mind from what happened in the library.

as you step into the garden, you notice two figures standing near a fountain. it’s ayana and nanami. ayana is giggling, her hand rubbing against nanami’s arm as she leans in closer to him. she looks up at him with adoring eyes, her laughter bright and flirtatious.

you stop in your tracks, feeling a jealous at the sight. she always finds a way to ruin something.

nanami notices you walking in and turns to gesture you to join them. ayana looks over to see you and scoffs, wrapping her arm possessively around nanami’s as you approach.

“i see you’ve already met ayana,” you say bitterly, shooting a disdainful glance at her.

“met? oh, kenny! you haven’t told her about us!” ayana fake pouts, her tone dripping with insincerity. you look at them in confusion. “who do you think was his stress reliever, hmm?” she confesses, and a pang of jealousy courses through you.

“i’ve told you many times that whatever happened in the past stays in the past, ayana,” nanami says firmly, removing her arms from around him and creating space between them.

“but of course, that was before i met ruru! we’re now happily in love—expecting to be engaged soon,” ayana chirps cheerfully, her words stoking your anger. little does she know what happened a few minutes ago…

“but poor you, would any man truly desire a future with you?” she taunts, walking closer to you, her hand brushing your cheek. you shove her hand away, infuriated by her audacity.

“i intended to announce our engagement at the gala, but we are also planning our marriage,” nanami declares calmly, causing ayana to whirl around in horror. for once, she is speechless, no vile words escaping her lips.

nothing.

“so instead of belittling my wife and your future queen, i’d advise you to show her the respect she deserves,” nanami says in a low, threatening voice. you’re shocked at his words, feeling his soft touch as he takes your hand to lead you out of the garden. not waiting for one of her snarky response.

turning back, you see tears filling ayana’s eyes as she remains frozen in place. seeing her like this brings a small, satisfied smile to your face. but as nanami guides you back into the castle, you notice gojo rushing out of the library towards ayana, her sobs echoing loudly.

you watch as gojo softly comforts her, his actions mirroring those he once showed you. you start to feel enraged at the sight, but your view is cut off as nanami turns a corner, and they disappear from sight.

why am I feeling this way?