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angelicyoongie · 3 months ago

Text

The Ivory Fang (I)

— pairing: mermaid taehyung x (f) reader — word count: 6k — warnings: (soft?) yandere, mention of illness (not the reader) — summary: You have run out of options when it comes to treating your mother's illness. When a mysterious man offers you a solution that might save her, you decide that nothing is too strange if it means it'll lead to a cure – not even finding and striking a deal with a mermaid.

Part 01 - 02

"My apologies, miss, but there's nothing I can do to aid your mother. Her malady is too severe."

The healer gives you a sympathetic look before he closes his door, the bell hanging above it chiming into the quiet night. You let out a shaky exhale, staring at the door that just sealed your mother's fate.

You have exhausted every possible option of looking for a cure, pleaded with every healer you've come across to please just try, but none have been willing. They always take one look at your mother, pale and gaunt in her bed, practically rotting away as she lays there, before they scurry away, refusing to treat her.

They may see a lost cause, a patient too sick to be cured, but you just see your mother – the woman who raised you by herself and taught you that even if all else fails, she would always be there to catch you.

The gold coins in your satchel clink together as you pull yourself away from the healer's door, your steps heavy as you begin the walk back to your house.

"What a fool," You grit, kicking at a stone in front of you, "If you had any common sense you should at least pretend like you had a cure and bled me dry."

Your throat bobs as you glance up at the night sky. The stars twinkle on without a worry, indifferent that their biggest admirer hasn't laid her eyes on them in months. You never quite saw the beauty in them like your mother did – like she still does – but they are practical for lighting your way home. It's the least they can do, as the tearful wishes you've bestowed upon their fallen brothers and sisters have all gone unheard since your mother fell ill.

It happened so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that you still have no idea what caused it. One day your mother was fine and the next she was unable to get out of bed, falling in and out of consciousness. It's been months of you doing everything you can to help her, but nothing has even given her a moment of respite from the illness that's ravaging her body. You're truly at your wit's end.

You press your hands to your eyes as they begin to blur, willing them not to fall. On the off chance that your mother is lucid when you return, you don't want to cause her the worry of seeing your swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Taking a few deep breaths, you attempt to calm yourself, rubbing at your eyelids until the urge to cry subsides.

As you let your hands fall away, you find yourself squinting as you re-open your eyes, hazy lights filling your vision. Your steps slow as you draw near the source, a lit-up storefront beckoning you in with its warm, flickering lights.

"This isn't.." You look over your shoulder, seeing the faint outline of the healer's door further up the road. You walk along this path every day and yet, you have never seen this store before. You can't quite seem to recall what used to be there but you know it wasn't this.

Trepidation slowly sinks in as you keep walking forward, intent to let your feet carry you past the shop without a backward glance. Even so, a moment of morbid curiosity makes you pause, your eyes drinking in the soft glow of the seemingly floating lights in the window. Turning your head this way and that, you can't see the string holding them up, the thread much too thin to be visible in such low light. The windows are covered with rich fabrics, not allowing you to look inside past the heavy drapes. Your initial thought about this being a magician's shop falls short as you notice the etching into the glass, the lettering spelling out 'The Healing Shoppe'.

The name gives you a foolish burst of hope, your body already halfway up the stairs before you remember just how odd this whole thing is. A mysterious shop has appeared out of thin air and you're going to trust it just like that? Every rational part of your brain is urging you to leave, to forget that you ever laid eyes on this shop. But.. You can't simply ignore it on the odd chance that something inside might help your mother.

Taking a deep breath, you cross the last steps and find yourself in front of the door. As you press down on the handle, it gives away with a soft rattle. The sound is peculiar, certainly like no bell you've ever heard before; but with no visual clues of what it might be, you find that you can't quite place it. You take a hesitant step into the shop, the dimly lit space in front of you more like a hallway than a proper room. The walls are empty aside from a few lit candles, only a heavy drape obscuring what you assume to be a doorway further down the corridor.

"Hello?" You call out.

You pause, straining your ears for a reply, but nothing comes. Just as you're about to leave, worried that someone simply forgot to close up their shop, you hear a heavy thud from behind the curtain.

There's no noise aside from the impact, no immediate call for help, but there's still a possibility that someone may be hurt. Perhaps they fainted or are too weak to call out to you. You decide then that you're just going to take a look behind the drape, just to make sure everything is alright so that you can leave in good conscience.

You walk past the flickering candlelight, stomach swirling with unease as you reach out for the curtain. The material is soft in your hand, threads of shimmering silver woven so delicately into it that you can't even feel it as you run your thumb across it. The fabric is heavy as you finally push it aside, your eyes widening in surprise as you take in what it was hiding.

The room you step into is filled to the brim with shelves and cabinets, all of them displaying a different collection of oddities. There's dried flowers and herbs hanging from the ceiling, the many bunches of lavender spreading a calming scent throughout the space. There's a round table placed in the middle of the room, two chairs pushed up against it. The tablecloth is made out of the same material as the drape and your fingers are already itching to touch it again.

Glancing around, you find that the shelf next to you is stacked to the brim with gemstones of every cut and color imaginable, their polished surface reflecting the sparkling jars from across the room. If your mother was here, she would insist that they were filled with stardust, the shimmering substance so bright it's nearly imitating the night sky you looked up at just moments before.

You walk slowly around the room, captivated by all of the different items you find. A shudder runs through you as you pause near a display filled with skulls, some of the shapes so outlandish you wonder if the owner has somehow mended different species together just for show.

As you finally make a full circle back to the doorway you stepped through, you realize that there's nothing in this room that should have made the thud you heard earlier. There's no one here and nothing even seems slightly out of place.

Stumped, you lean forward on the table, running your fingers over the soft texture of the cloth as you give the room another look. Is there a door you missed somewhere? Perhaps you were too captivated by the content to really pay attention to the room.

"And who might you be?"

You spin around, heart in your throat, from the sudden deep voice speaking up behind you.

You stumble over an apology as you take in the cloaked figure in front of you, their face obscured by the big hood pulled over their head. The uneasy feeling in your stomach returns tenfold as you realize you're trapped between the table and this mysterious person, their broad frame blocking the only way in and out of the room.

"I–" You're saved from your poor explanation as the figure pulls their hood off, revealing the most beautiful man you've ever seen in your life. His light brown hair is tousled and wavy like he just came from a swim in the ocean, his skin sun-kissed as if he's spent his days laying by the shore. You find yourself unable to form words as you take in his chiseled jaw and almond-shaped eyes, the colour such a striking light blue, they almost appear white.

It's a little unsettling how piercing his gaze is, almost as if he's looking right into you rather than at you. Just as your eyes flicker to the curtain behind him, an excuse forming in your head for a swift exit, the man says, "What brings you to my shop?"

Flashes of your mother's gaunt face appear before your eyes, the sound of her breathing becoming heavier and heavier echoing in your ears. Even if you feel uneasy in this man's presence, you can't let this chance slip to your fingers. You owe your mother that much.

"I noticed the sign out front, that you have a healing shop? My mother.." You take a deep breath, swallowing down the lump in your throat. "My mother is very ill. No doctor or healer is willing to help her, they say her sickness is too severe. You.. You're my last hope."

"Hmm, I see," The man nods. He gestures to one of the chairs, "Please have a seat and explain your troubles. I need all the details you can give regarding your mother's malady."

You quickly slip into the nearest chair, your palms clammy with nervous anticipation. This is the first person who has ever bothered to ask, who actually seems to care. You watch the man as he rounds the table, his gait awkward and staggered as he walks with difficulty to his chair. The way he moves is nothing like you've seen before. It's certainly no ordinary limp, you've never seen anyone walk so .. unnaturally before.

The man catches your eye as he lowers himself to his seat.

"I know my condition is quite unsightly, please excuse me. Due to some unforeseen circumstances, I have had to train my legs to bear my weight. It has left me feeling like a fish out of water."

He flashes you a crooked smile, the amused twinkle in his eye alerting you of a joke you don't quite understand. You wonder if his condition is similar to your old neighbor's. The man had a painful sickness in his legs and spent most of his time in a wheeled chair, but he could walk on them if it was necessary. Though the few times you did see him walk, it still looked, well, human.

"Oh no, that's alright," You wave your hands, embarrassed that your staring might have made him feel self-conscious.

Desperate to turn the conversation away from the man's illness, you begin recounting everything you can remember about your mother's sickness. You tell him about how it began so suddenly, the severity of it and how no one else is willing to aid her, all noting her as a lost cause.

"Most curious," The man hums.

He leans back in his seat, his piercing gaze moving slowly across your face, scrutinizing it. He mutters something under his breath, too low for you to hear, before he raises his voice and says, "While I may not know what your mother's sickness is, I do know that there is only one thing that can cure her. A mermaid's magic."

"Pardon me?" You stare incredulously at the man. "Did you just say mermaid? As in the creatures from folktales?"

"I do know it sounds outlandish, or perhaps you'd find insane to be a more fitting word, but it's your last chance at curing your mother. Have you not exhausted all man-made options?"

You slump in your seat, biting down on your lip as you mull his words over. You have indeed done all you could to save your mother and to no avail. While it does sound absolutely mad to go searching for a mythological creature to aid her, perhaps crazy is just what you need. You're not sure just how much you trust this strange man but for all you know, he could be speaking the truth. He certainly looks like he believes in it himself.

"Where.. Where would I find one?"

The man tuts. "That's not the question you should be asking, guppy. A mermaid requires a sacrifice of equal value to what you are asking of them. What are you willing to give to receive their help?"

"Anything," You reply, "The cost doesn't matter. I'd give up anything to save my mother."

The man grins, his smile a little sharper than before, as he pulls out a weathered map from his cloak. He traces the route you need to take, crossing over the vast ocean to reach a cluster of islands on the other side.

"Finally, you will need to take a boat from Pearl Bay to this island right here. Once you locate the mermaid, you have to offer him this," The man places a tooth on the table, the whites of it glistening under the candlelight.

You hesitantly reach across the table to pick it up, the size and weight of it much more substantial than you were expecting. You find that the tooth is much more like a fang, one end pointed and sharp. It's nothing like you've seen before.

"What animal does this belong to?" You ask, tracing what looks like a red vein embedded in the side of it.

You look up as you're only met with silence, the man's heavy gaze transfixed on your hand and the fang held in your palm. He only seems to remember his surroundings as you lower it to your lap, removing it from his sight.

The man clears his throat as he pulls the hood back over his head. Ignoring your question, he nudges the map closer to you on the table, "I have given you everything you need. It is up to you to decide whether your mother lives – or dies. Good luck."

Your mind is made up a few days later when your mother starts coughing up blood. You doubt she has more than a few weeks left to live at the rate her sickness is eating her up, so you'll have to act right away if you want to save her. You still have your doubt about the journey, about the creature you're supposed to find, but the risk is worth it if the alternative is being left to always wonder if it could have cured her. You know you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if the mysterious man was correct and you didn't do anything about it.

"I'll find a cure, I promise," You give your mother a gentle kiss on her forehead. The lines on her hollowed face are scrunched with pain, her every breath a mere wheeze as her chest struggles to rise and fall.

You meet the saddened eyes of your neighbor as you press a few gold coins into her hand, whispering a few words of gratitude for her care while you're away. The journey shouldn't take more than ten nights to complete but you have paid her far more than that, just on the off chance that the weather delays your return. With your goodbyes said, you heft your rucksack onto your shoulder as you slip out of the cottage and set course for the port.

The sun has barely risen as you locate the ship that will take you south, the wooden dock filled with travelers and crew all headed in different directions. You're surprised to find that the ship is quite large, the deck just as bustling as the dock below. With all of the boxes and barrels being loaded up, you figure it's likely a cargo ship, moving wares and supplies out to the islands. While the journey is bound to be loud and quite cramped, you think the noise might actually do you some good. You hadn't realized just how much of your own energy had been sapped alongside your mother's, how much you missed the sound of laughter and life being lived around you. You'll be stuck on this ship until it reaches Pearl Bay, unable to do much other than sleep and converse with the people around you, so perhaps this will be a much needed break – a chance for you to wind down until you reach shore. Gods know you'll need it, especially since you're supposed to hunt down a fabled creature once your feet hit solid ground.

You fight to open your eyes as the sound of the howling winds outside sweep through the room, your stomach turning at the thought of having to move to see what caused it. The trap door slams shut before you muster up the courage to turn over, the sounds once again dampened by the heavy wood.

"Ay girlie, who made you this angry?!" A crewman huffs as he stumbles down the stairs to the lower deck, bracing his hands on the walls for support.

You bite your teeth together as another thunderous wave crashes against the side of the ship. The next round of nausea washes over you as the ship rocks back and forth, the wood groaning as it tries to steady itself. It's been three days of hellish waters, the storm breaking out as soon as the ship hit the open sea. You've spent most of it confined to your cot, barely being able to keep any water or food down before another rough wave causes your stomach to empty.

The lower deck is filled with pained moans and whimpers, the majority of the passengers fairing just as poorly as you. It feels like you're stuck in a loop of absolute misery with the heavy rain that pours down on the deck above and the angry sea that threatens to pull the ship under at any moment.

You let out a slow breath through your nose, trying to think about anything else but the bile slowly rising up your throat. So much for that relaxation. Desperate for some respite from your turning stomach, you close your eyes and turn your focus onto the indistinct chatter happening on the other side of the room. The low, murmuring voices prove to be enough of a distraction that you soon find your consciousness slipping, a welcome darkness taking over you as the storm continues to rage outside.

The next time you wake up, the ship is quiet and still, like the previous days were nothing more than a fever dream. It takes you longer than you'd like to make your way up on deck, your legs trembling and weak after barely any substance over the past three days. The fresh air and warm sunlight feels heavenly on your skin as you stumble past the other travelers sprawled out on the deck, a few of them still moaning about the ship moving too much, despite its now still glide on the quiet water. The ship's railing seems like a good spot to rest, the sturdy wood providing a nice support to lean against as you survey the sea around you. The water is crystal blue, glittering under the bright sun. You've never seen anything quite like it. You let out a gasp as a school of fish pass by the ship, their gray hue reflecting the light so beautifully it looks like molten silver dancing around under the water's surface.

You stand by the ship's edge for a while, long enough for the other passengers to begin retreating back to their cots. Just as you're about to do the same, you see what looks like a white, large fin hitting the surface of the sea, the creature below too obscured by the distance from the ship to really make out. Even so, you can tell it's no regular fish. The small waves caused by the impact must surely mean that it's a strong animal.

"Did you see that?" You turn to the man resting next to you, hoping he might have an explanation of what you just saw.

The man startles as you address him, clearly on the brink of falling asleep where he stands. He blinks, rubbing his eyes as he turns his attention to the spot you're pointing to.

"There's nothing there, miss," He grumbles, openly annoyed that you woke him up.

"What? But–" As you turn back to look at the sea, you realize he's right. The creature you saw is no longer there.

"Was likely just a dolphin, miss. There's lots of them in these waters."

"I suppose so," You concede. Having never seen one in real life, only on paper, you have no clue how large they're supposed to be. Yet, something in your gut tells you that this was no dolphin – this was something entirely different.

You're not left to ponder the creature for long, not when you're alerted that Pearl Bay has been spotted in the distance. Your final night at the ship passes by in the blink of an eye, time seemingly fueled by your nerves as you suddenly find yourself stepping onto solid ground once again. With a decent night's rest behind you and a warm meal in your stomach, you set course for the next point on your map.

Following the mysterious man's instructions, you find the path going along the outskirts of the bay, walking until you stumble upon the described hut nestled close to the water's edge. The woman inside seems eager to rent you a rowboat, citing that she doesn't get much business on the far side of the island.

It isn't until she asks you where you're going that her demeanor changes, her expression turning haunted as she glances in the direction of your destination, just barely visible where the sky meets the sea.

"There is something wicked in those waters," The woman shudders, her hands shaking as she accepts a gold coin for payment, "You'd better stay away if you value your life, miss."

Your stubbornness won't allow you to turn back now, not when you've already come so far, but that doesn't mean you're not affected by her warning. Her spooked expression lingers in the back of your mind as you push the boat out to sea, your own hands trembling with uncertainty as you grab the oars and begin to row.

Perhaps you are truly foolish to ignore all of the warning signs you have been presented with, but what is a little danger if it means it can heal your mother? You'll just have to stay vigilant, making sure not to take any risks and be alert to your surroundings.

With your rucksack tucked between your legs, you hum a gentle tune, trying to calm the anxiety building with every stroke forward.

The eerie feeling grows heavier the more distance you put between yourself and Pearl Bay, the island in the distance seemingly never drawing closer no matter how long and how hard you row. You set out before the sun had reached its highest point and now its rays are almost touching the sea, the sky a pure orange. Truly, it feels like you have just been paddling in place this whole time, not moving an inch despite the bay becoming fainter and fainter behind you.

Your arms are burning from the hours of exercise, your breath labored and heavy with exhaustion. You were hoping to make it to shore before nightfall – the map did not indicate that the journey would be this long – but you fear your body might shut down if you try to push it for much longer.

You pull the oars into the boat, intending to just take a short break and rest your eyes before your final stretch of the evening.

You swear you haven't dozed off for more than a quarter of an hour, the sunset still vivid and bright, but as you reopen your eyes, you're shocked to find the island close, its proximity now near enough that you can make out the palm trees on the shore and faint details of the wild mountain imposing behind them.

"How?" You breathe.

As you shift on the bench, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you notice that your feet feel much colder than before your nap. Wet.

Glancing down, you find the bottom of the boat filled with water, the amount already well above your ankles. You fumble for the oars, cursing as you begin to row with all of your might. You can't tell where the leak is coming from and scooping the water out with your hands won't get you anywhere. Your best bet is just to get the boat as close to land as possible and then swim the rest of the way.

You resolutely do not think about what may be lurking in the water as you finally abandon the sinking boat, your rucksack balanced precariously on your head as you lower yourself into the cold water. You wonder for a split second if it's better to leave it but the extra portions of food you brought with you will surely come in handy now that your way of returning to Pearl Bay is at the bottom of the ocean.

Biting your teeth together, you begin to swim, your gaze locked onto the beach. Time feels endlessly long as you push yourself forward, the minutes ticking by so slowly they might as well have been hours.

You let out a sob of relief as your feet finally touch solid ground, every limb shaking with exhaustion as you waddle the rest of the way up to dry land. You collapse the moment you hear sand crunching under your soaked boots, panting, as your vision swirls from fatigue.

You lie there until the chill begins to set in, your dripping clothes sticking to your skin like an icy embrace. Groaning, you push yourself up on your feet, knowing you'll have to attempt to create a fire if you want any warmth to return to your body.

The sky is beginning to grow dark, its orange hues replaced by deep purple and blue. It's only now that you realize just how unnaturally quiet the island is, with no noise to be heard aside from the water lapping at the shore and a gentle breeze flowing through the palm trees. Even if you hadn't been this exhausted and cold, you would never dare to venture further into the thick vegetation in the dark. You don't trust the island to not lead you astray.

"Suppose I'll stay here for the night," You murmur.

You rummage through your rucksack, pulling out the change of clothes you had brought with you just in case. You're ever thankful for your own foresight as you strip out of your soaked garments, goosebumps racing down your skin as you hurry to pull on a dry blouse and trousers. It isn't just the cold that's making your skin crawl – you can't help feeling like somewhere in the darkness of the deep ocean, or in the shadows in the midst of the trees, someone is watching you.

You glance around as you do your blouse up, finding absolutely nothing staring back at you.

Yet, the feeling lingers.

It takes you longer than you'd like to admit getting a fire started, the branches you find a little too damp to really catch a spark. Still, some deity seems to take pity on you and allows one of your attempts to succeed, the branch igniting and spreading the flames to the rest of your small bonfire. You scarf down half of the food and water you brought with you as you soak up the warmth, deciding that despite your still vocal stomach, it's better to save the rest for tomorrow. You have no idea how large this island actually is, so there's no question that you'll have to keep your energy up.

With your stomach slightly sated and your shivering down to a minimum, you curl up on the beach, as close to the open flames as you dare. You use your rucksack as a makeshift pillow, piling up the rest of your supplies close by. Despite the unnerving, oppressive air that hangs over the island, you succumb to sleep quickly, your exhaustion too great to fight.

Your dreams are restless, haunted by sharp teeth and whispers, a deep baritone voice urging you to come find him. You wake with a start, alarmed that the puff of air you sensed across your ear in your nightmare felt a little too real.

Heart racing in your chest, you quickly survey the beach, finding nothing out of the ordinary. Your bonfire has long since extinguished itself, its ashes intertwined with the sand below.

Reaching out behind you, you frown as you don't feel the pouch of water you know you left there the night before.

Turning around, you're met with absolutely nothing. Your food and water are gone, and the clothes you left out to dry are nowhere to be seen.

You would suspect an animal to be behind it but you really don't think there's any here. It's too quiet. Not even an insect has passed you by since you stepped foot on this island.

Perhaps the sensation you felt wasn't just a dream, maybe there's someone – something – here.

"You're fine, you're fine," You whisper, digging your hands into the sand to ground yourself. You don't have time to panic. If all of your supplies are gone, it just means you have even less time to locate the creature you came here for. You have to move. Now.

You push yourself up to your feet, dusting sand off your clothes. Your boots are long gone too but you doubt they would have been of much use anyway with the way they were gurgling the night before.

Taking a deep breath, you begin walking towards the thick vegetation a little further up the beach, where the sand meets lush, long grass. The jungle you step into is so dense that the sunlight barely manages to peek through the trees, only small dapples of sunlight flickering across the ground as the leaves move with the wind. The map provided to you didn't show where you would find the mermaid once you reached the island, so you're left to wander aimlessly, pushing aside shrubs and climbing over fallen trees.

Even if you have no idea which way you should be headed, it's almost as if your body knows, your feet carrying you in what you can only hope is the right direction. Your path becomes clear as you break through the trees and find yourself at the edge of the mountain, near the shore. Your journey must have led you to the other side of the island, and the massive cave that's carved out of the mountain is too imposing to be anything but your destination. From the folktales you have heard, it seems like the perfect place to find a mermaid.

The cave mouth is facing out into the ocean, its size big enough to fit a ship through it. You say a small prayer to whatever deity is willing to listen as you square your shoulders and walk in, your barren footsteps echoing into the quiet mountain. You keep close to the wall as you follow the rocky ledge that trails along it, mindful of the stream that runs parallel to your path. The water here is darker, not as willing to divulge what may be lurking beneath its surface. It seems this cave has a paved a road for those with feet and fins.

You follow the ledge as it veers to to left and it soon becomes apparent to you that you have stepped into a tunnel, something much smaller and damper compared to the cave entrance. You can almost graze your fingertips against the mountain above you now.

It doesn't take long before the tunnel opens up before you, showing you sunlight streaming in through holes in the mountain. This cavern is large and wide, showing off a pool of water in the middle of it. You freeze near the edge of the tunnel, still shrouded in its shadows, as you finally lay eyes on the creature you have been searching for – the mermaid.

It's lounging in the water, its back turned towards you as it uses its arms to rest on the pool's edge. You find yourself mesmerized by its tail, the massive thing almost as long as a full-grown adult. It's white in colour but the scales appear to have a pearlescent luster to them, shimmers of pink and green reflecting in the water.

The mermaid's body resembles a man, showing off a chiseled back and strong muscles as he moves his arms. The mermaid's tousled, light brown hair looks oddly familiar from the back, but you know no men who sport that kind of style. There's no place for vanity in your town.

"Hello?" You call out as you step into the cavern.

You hold your breath as the mermaid flips its body around at the sound of your voice, its strong tail splashing in the water. Dumbfounded, you watch as the mermaid pushes his hair back, revealing a face you already know.

It's the mysterious man from the healing shoppe, the same one that told you to come find the mermaid – to come find him.

The man grins as he drinks in your shock, his teeth much sharper than you remember them.

"Ah, pretty human, it seems that you decided to save your mother's life after all."

"You.." You struggle to make sense of what you're seeing, none of it adding up. "Who are you?"

"Me? Oh, pardon my manners. You may call me Taehyung, human. I believe you have a request for me?"

A sudden gust of wind comes through the cave as the mermaid utters his name, a loud rattling echoing between the walls of the cavern. You remember hearing that same sound before, the night you stepped into his shop. The moment you glance up to find the source, you find yourself immediately regretting it.

The darkest spots of the cave's ceiling are filled with clumps of hanging bones, all made up of various animals. They rattle as the wind makes them sway, causing them to knock into each other over and over. You swallow thickly as you spot a skull that is very distinctly human, its warning not lost on you.

You scramble a step back as you look back to the water and find Taehyung much closer than before. He's resting casually on the pool's edge, his chin in his hand as he observes you from only a few feet away. His icy gaze is locked on to you and there's a glint in his eye that makes you all too aware that you have nowhere to run. Even if you make it out of the cave, you will still be trapped on the island. The water is Taehyung's domain and you're surrounded by it.

Foolishly naive and desperate as you are, you have let a predator lead you right into his grasp.

a/n: want to read chapter two right away? you can! just click here and it'll bring you straight to early access 💖

welcome to the third installment in the crimson shell universe (all of the stories are stand alones though, so you'll be fine even if you haven't read the others)!! i know we didn't see too much of tae in this chapter but i can promise you he'll make plenty of apperances in the next one 👀 this is a yandere mermaid story, but this fic will be... softer (?) in comparison to the others! i'd love to know what you think so far!! 💖

the next(/final) chapter will be posted in three weeks time! if you don't want to wait and would like to support me, you can read it now through early access on my kofi! the link is above. thank you!! 💖

#yandere au #yandere bts #yandere taehyung #yandere mermaid #mermaid bts #mermaid taehyung #taehyung x reader #bts x reader #mermaid au #yandere x reader

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endless-ineffabilities · 2 months ago

Text

Official Business

President Aemond Targaryen x f!reporter reader

a/n: I caved in and listened to the depraved gremlins in my mind. I hope you enjoy this official intro, you're welcome.

also, thank the gods for Rue (@peachysunrize) for creating the hottest gif of all time.

themes/warnings: language, barely-there smut, infidelity, unequal power dynamic, gross misuse of a fancy desk, getting involved with a politician (also gross)

main masterlist

Update! - upcoming series

President Aemond demands the company of his favourite reporter, whom he has been eyeing for quite some time.

You try to walk with your head held high, but your clammy hands and racing heartbeat betray your nerves.

“President Aemond wishes for you to grace his suite,” was all they said. They, being two imposing bodyguards in impeccably tailored black suits, occasionally touching their earpieces as if confirming orders.

“What does he want?” you asked, your voice coming out weak and tentative. More importantly, why you?

They only shrugged, impassive. Whether they didn’t know or didn’t care, it wouldn’t matter anyway. The President always gets what he wants.

You’d only spoken to President Aemond in your capacity as a reporter, part of the small circle allowed to amplify his words to the public. The first time was at the annual Westerosi Gala, where he arrived with First Lady Floris Baratheon on his arm. Your colleagues whispered incessantly about how the uncut footage showed his gaze barely straying from you, even with his stunning aristocratic wife beside him.

Your supervisor even had the footage edited. “You don’t need the media vultures swarming you,” he reasoned, trying to sound reassuring.

Now, after covering yet another event in Highgarden, it seems you’ve been summoned for an exclusive interview in the President’s suite. You hope that’s all it is.

After all, you can’t be another victim of President Aemond’s wandering eye. Socialites like Alys Rivers and Lara Lannister had been publicly shredded after being exposed as his mistresses.

You never understood his affairs. They seemed so juvenile, reckless even for the youngest President ever elected. Barely thirty and in the highest position imaginable. And yet, what truly baffled you was why Floris stayed.

“Ma’am, the Presidential Suite,” one of the guards states as he opens a set of ornate ivory doors for you. “The President is waiting inside.”

Your feet move automatically, sparing you from blurting something that would inevitably fall on deaf ears. But as you cross the threshold, you turn and ask, “Will you be waiting to escort me back to – ”

The doors shut behind you. Of course.

The suite is grand – no expense was spared for the President. A perfect blend of classic Valyrian architecture, all white marble and gold accents. It’s more impressive than you could have imagined, having marvelled at the Highgarden Hotel from the outside for years.

“Come,” you hear a voice command, smooth and authoritative, from the room to the left of the main parlour.

You head in that direction, mentally steeling yourself. Just get this over with.

There he is, leaning casually against a wide desk, dressed sharply in a tailored blue suit and crimson tie. The moonlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows catches the scar across his left eye, the glint of his prosthetic eye giving him an almost sinister allure. The kind that draws people in despite themselves.

Maybe it wasn’t immaturity driving his affairs. Maybe he was just too beautiful to resist. You roll your eyes at the stupid thought, surprised with yourself.

“Something amusing?” His voice is tinged with laughter.

Gods, you just rolled your eyes in front of the President.

“N-no,” you stammer, immediately flustered. “I’m sorry, Mister President. It’s just... I thought of something funny. Not about you! I mean, I’m sure you can be funny, but - ”

“Relax, angel,” he chuckles, raising a hand to stop your rambling. The term “angel” lingers in the air, branding itself into your mind.

You quickly introduce yourself, fumbling through your full government name like a nervous schoolgirl.

“We’ve met before,” he reminds you, smirking. “Am I that forgettable?”

“No, I know we have,” you nod quickly, “just not in such a… private setting.”

The corner of his mouth quirks at your choice of words, and his gaze sweeps over you with an intensity that sends heat rushing through your body. He hums softly, and the sound settles uncomfortably low in your stomach. Gods, get it together.

“I was told you wanted to see me, Mister President?”

“Aemond,” he corrects.

You nod, offering your nickname in return, but he only smiles, shaking his head slightly. “Thank you, but I think I’ll stick with ‘angel.’”

Weird, considering how this is your first proper conversation with him, you think, but nod regardless.

He gestures to the plush chairs in front of the desk. “Sit, please.”

You comply, smoothing your dress nervously. Thankfully, it’s modest enough – a safe choice that flows just above your knees.

“How are you?” he asks, his voice polite but edged with something else. Part of you wishes he’d just get to the point, but another part – one you’d rather not acknowledge – wants to stay, to drink in the sight of him. Aemond Targaryen, the most powerful man in Westeros, and he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the world.

“I’m doing well,” you reply, your smile faltering under his heavy gaze.

He hums again, eyes dipping to your lips. That same maddening hum that sets your nerves alight.

“You must be wondering why I asked for you tonight,” he says, leaning forward slightly. “I wanted us to get better acquainted. You’ve caught my attention, angel. I find you… intriguing.”

“But you don’t know me,” you counter quickly, heart racing.

“I know more than you think,” he says, eyes narrowing playfully. “You studied at the Casterly Rock Institute for Journalism. Top of your class, until your grades dropped in your final year because you were taking care of your ailing aunt. That says more about you than any degree.”

He continues, “You’re an only child. Estranged from your parents, especially your mother, after she remarried. You’ve moved city to city since, keeping your distance. Avoiding attachments, especially romantic ones.”

You freeze, his words hitting too close to home. There’s an amused lilt to his voice at the end, and you desperately want to respond with a defensive retort, but you hold your tongue. You like your job after all. He’s the President. One call and he could have you right back in the unemployment pool.

“Am I correct?” His lips curl into a knowing smirk.

You manage a small nod. Damn him.

“How do you know all this?” you ask quietly, stunned. You wonder if there are hidden cue cards somewhere in the room, informing him of the details of your relatively uneventful life. There is no way he actually made the effort to memorise all these details about you. But then again, he is the Commander-in-Chief of the country. He must have trained himself to know everything about everyone. You’re not special – just another face in his immediate vicinity.

“I make it my business to know people,” he replies smoothly. “Especially those who interest me.”

He reaches out to take your hand, pulling you gently to stand before him as he perches on the edge of his desk. The proximity is intoxicating. “And you, angel, have caught my eye. You’re the object of my desire. Can you say the same of me?”

His words leave you breathless, the floor slipping from under you. You’re no better than the others, drawn into his orbit. “I’d be an idiot not to find you attractive, Aemond.”

He smirks. “I adore the way you say my name.”

“There’s nothing special about the way I say it.”

“There is,” he insists, his voice low and rough as his hand moves to smooth a stray hair from your face. “You’re so fucking beautiful, angel.” His expletive takes you aback, so unbecoming of someone of his status.

“I’m not a fool,” you shoot back, forcing yourself to remain steady. “I’ve heard about your... doings.”

“My doings?” He raises an eyebrow, amused.

“You’re married obviously,” you say bluntly. “And you’ve had affairs. Women like Alys Rivers, Lara Lannister…”

He doesn’t flinch. “I’ve had lovers, yes, but my marriage is... loveless. Floris and I, we’ve always been an arrangement for political convenience.”

“That doesn’t justify anything.”

He steps closer, his eyes darkening. “I’m trapped. I can’t leave her. It would destroy my reputation. But she has her own lovers too.”

“And so you feel entitled to have yours?”

He breathes deeply, gaze unwavering. “Not just anyone. I want you, angel. Only you.”

You feel yourself dangerously close to giving in, especially when his gaze drops to your lips and he shamelessly licks his own. Desperate to stay composed, you ask, “Am I just another lover to add to your collection? I may be a lowly journalist compared to you, Mister President, but I have a reputation to protect too.”

“I know this, angel,” he whispers, his voice softer now, yet drawing closer with every word. “I’ll protect you.”

“Did you protect Alys? Or Lara? Or the others?” you challenge, though your voice falters.

“They orchestrated their own downfall,” he says coolly, his expression unreadable. “They used me for power. That was out of my hands.”

Oh. His words momentarily rattle your resolve, but you shake your head, trying to pull yourself out of the spell he’s weaving over you. “No, this is wrong,” you murmur, the words weak on your tongue. But his warm breath fans your face, luring you into the same madness he claims to feel.

“Is this wrong?” he whispers, his lips grazing yours – featherlike, teasing, barely there. Then, as if something shifts within him, he kisses you again, harder this time, his mouth pressing hungrily against yours. His tongue traces the curve of your bottom lip, sending a rush of heat through your body as you teeter on the edge of reason.

You cave, for a few seconds, letting your lips dance with his own in a battle for dominance. You elicit a growl out of him, and he picks you up and swaps your bodies so that you are perched atop his desk.

“Gods,” he purrs, against the heat of your neck. “Sweeter than I imagined. You’re a fucking angel.” His gaze is arresting as his hands slide from your ankles to the hem of your dress, lifting it higher and higher until your moist panties are exposed to the cool air.

You collect yourself as if hit by a dizzying wave of whiplash, pushing him away with a sharp shove. “Stop – wait, Mister Pres – Aemond…”

He stumbles, lips swollen and slick, his good eye darkened, pupil blown wide. “Right, sorry…” His breath comes heavy as he averts his gaze, and you smooth your dress down, feeling the weight of the moment between you. He straightens, his posture stiffening as if suddenly remembering who he is. “I didn’t mean to push you, angel.”

“You didn’t –”

“It was wrong of me to –”

“Aemond,” you cut in softly, your hand slipping between you to squeeze his in reassurance. “It’s okay. I wanted it too.”

A genuine smile blooms on his lips, innocent and sweet, but it fades just as quickly at your next words. “But this can’t happen again. We can’t happen.”

"Why not?" His voice is low, measured, but there’s an edge to it. "Why can’t we? You say you wanted it too."

“We both know why,” you murmur, your voice trembling despite your best efforts. You turn to leave, but hesitate just long enough to say, “Goodbye, Mister President.”

“Angel,” he calls softly, and it’s the only word he offers.

As you step out of his suite, the door closing behind you with a quiet finality, a thought begins to take root, unsettling in its persistence – he never actually said goodbye.

And deep down, you know this isn’t over. Something stirs in your chest, an uneasy certainty - while this is the first of these kinds of encounters, it won’t be the last.

Taglists (refer here to be added)

vhagar - @gwaynehightowerswhore @kravitzwhore @litchifaerie @g-cf2020 @noxytopy @fan-goddess @m00n5t0n3 @diannnnsss @nsr-15 @the-awkward-barbie @rockstwrsz @yellowstonebaby @urdeftonesgrrrl @eddieslut69 @callsigncrushx @starwarsdinosaur @qweq-6802 @tulips2715 @hotdismylife @joyismm @itseunaimonia @just-mj-or-not @crystal-siren @zaldrizzes @all-for-aemond @ajantanijhum @darylandbethfanforever9 @vhwyrm @purpleskiesandroses @technicallystrangereview @jjkysnk @anukulee @decaffeinatedparadisepost @iloveallmyboys @inesdiary96

Targaryen - @angel6776 @different-tale-student @binchissimo @teasweeter @raging-panda @rhaenys-nyra @gelacat0413 @simplymurdock @yariany02 @barnes70stark @stupid---person @lonan-hane @thescooponsof @donalesaa @rosey1981 @misssanzthings @urmomsgirlfriend1 @wabi-sabi1090 @girl-lost-not-found

Some notes in the margins...

Knowing me, this will inevitably turn into more than just a oneshot. Do bookmark this or my masterlist to keep updated! Or you may join the taglist using the link above ~

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen au #president!aemond #official business

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 1 year ago

Text

(seven) days a week, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: It only takes seven days (a week) for Jeon Jungkook to get you in his bed to fuck you right. And showing up in weird places. And kissing in the rain. He's crazy. Okay, it's kinda complicated.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language (reader swears a lot); strangers-to-lovers; vague allusions to a loveless childhood and bad parenting (no specifics); JK might be insane and you do tell him that he is; slight crack; fluff; smut (fem reader, fucking with clothes on and off, m and f-receiving oral, light hair pulling, fingering, nipple play, choking, penetrative sex, handjob); non-idol!BTS – persistent!Jungkook x noona, def tsundere!reader lol ft instigator-cupid!Park Jimin setting them up

this directly follows Jung Kook's 'Seven' MV, so make sure to watch it (although I'm sure you've seen it if you wanna read this lmao)

monday.

“What? Something on my face?”

You stared at him and he stared back. Wide eyes, slightly parted lips, the look of caught prey and all. You had your hands in front of you, long fingers laced together, elbows on the table. You probably shouldn’t have scowled like that. That was a bit rude, especially to someone you didn’t know well, but this guy had been staring at you all night and barely speaking to you, even when prompted, so you were getting both impatient and annoyed at accepting this invitation.

“You wear… a lot of jewelry,” Jeon Jungkook said out loud, with awe.

You looked down at your hands. Well. The rings, the bracelets, even the earrings on both your ears, all sterling silver or white gold. You had even swapped out the lower lobe piercing for a pair of dangling dice earrings with grey freshwater pearls. You liked the cooler tone to bring some death to your warm-toned skin.

“Yeah. Is that a problem?” Your low voice had an edge of guarded to it.

A quick, nervous head shake. “No. No, it’s cool. I’ve never seen a girl wear so many chunky rings like that. I didn’t think I’d like it either, but then I saw you.”

You opened your mouth to snap out a comeback and then his words hit you.

There was no doubt that Jeon Jungkook was cute. Black-brown hair with a lustrous quality. Bright, expressive dark brown eyes. Slightly rounded cheeks with a distinct jawline. He said he had, and you could see, tattoos and piercings, something you quite liked but not a requirement. Built body, in the way that people where when they were committed to taking care of their physical appearance. Not so much in vanity, but in the way that matched how they felt that they should look in their head. Respect for that. But, in this chance that was what you had expected to be his, Jungkook didn’t taken it.

He looked the part.

Didn’t act it, though.

Black blazer, matching trousers. White t-shirt. Dressy but not too much. To be honest, the outer appearance didn’t matter much to you. It actually mattered the least. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Really. You were often told that you had too little patience for people, but, come on!

This conversation was awkward.

Hah.

You turned as you sensed a lively presence re-entering your icy atmosphere. Hmph. The actor playing Cupid in the instance. He looked the part too. Baby blue dress shirt with the top buttons undone. Ivory slacks, neatly pressed. Black hair perfectly curled over his forehead, framing an angelic face. Full lips forming an infectious smile that made his eyes disappear as small hands folded away the receipt and tucked his card back into his wallet.

“Ah, the waitress and I had a cute little chat,” flirty Park Jimin chuckled, giving you a little eyebrow wiggle. You rolled your eyes at him. “Did you guys have a nice talk while I was gone?”

“Um…?” Jungkook started, nearly afraid to glance at you for some support.

You gave Jimin a deadpan stare. “You trying to get her number?”

“Me? No, no!” he waved his hands, sitting back down to lean in. “She gave it to me anyway though.”

Figures Park Jimin would introduce you to a guy and also get the number of someone else in the restaurant. You deliberately hadn’t answered Jimin’s question, but he hadn’t noticed.

Jungkook, however, did.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him deflate a little and you winced in unease, not sure if you should have avoided it, but at this point the waitress had returned, lashes aflutter and gushing about how they just had to try to fried ice cream and it was on the house, as long as Jimin promised to come back, right? Right?

Jimin promised of course, of course, with a big smile.

You completely ignored him and picked up one of the pieces of fried ice cream – mango, it seemed, by the color – and placed it on one of the small plates before setting it right in front of Jungkook.

He perked up and gave you these big, hopeful eyes.

You didn’t say anything but felt your cheeks flush and your gaze shift, putting on an expression of reluctant apology. After a half second, you bowed your head just a bit, shaking off the moment and serving yourself before serving Jimin.

What?

Damn flirt didn’t even notice.

tuesday.

“You didn’t like him?”

“I mean, there’s nothing to like or dislike. He barely said anything. Also, Jimin, I told you, I’m not really a relationship person,” you sighed into your phone, walking quickly to the train station. “I don’t want to give this guy the wrong idea about me. He didn’t really strike me as a fuck-around-and-find-out kinda guy.”

“You said you would change your mind for the right person though.”

Sometimes you thought Jimin argued with you just to argue.

“Yeah, and I don’t even know what kind of person he is because he didn’t say shit,” you barked back to that snippy tone on the other side of the line. Some idiot honked at you and you resisted the urge to flip him the bird. Maybe he wasn’t honking at you. The hanging out the window and catcalling could be to the couple walking next to you.

You highly doubted it.

Also, maybe you just wanted to give someone the middle finger because you couldn’t show Jimin right now how much you deeply appreciated him.

“Jungkookie’s just super shy, but wait a minute and he’ll make you his.”

You rolled your eyes. Damn bad habit that you were forming ever since you became friendly with this mildly infuriating angel. “He’s not making me do anything.”

“I’m telling you; he suits you perfectly. You’re being stubborn and not giving him a chance. Anyway, I gave him your number, so don’t worry!”

“Wait, you did wha–”

The roar of the subway train below cut you off.

“Oop, you’re at the station. You’re breaking up! Can’t hear you, byeeeeeee!”

You twitched as Park Jimin hung up on you.

Asshole.

You pulled your phone away from your ear and pulled up the app to pay for your ticket. Paused for a second. New message, unknown number. Then it was your turn, so you hovered your phone screen, heard the beep, and hurried to the correct train line, finding the one to take you home. It was hectic even now, still within the dregs of rush hour, so you didn’t even think to check for the content of the text until you sat down with a big sigh, somewhat of a fwump with your distressed bomber jacket and baggy cargo pants, both made of thick black fabric. The side of your jacket slid off, exposing your bare shoulder and tight white tank top.

The guy standing about a meter away from you snuck a glance in your direction.

You tucked your tongue in your cheek and yanked your jacket back in place with the hand that was holding your phone. Noticed the screen flash, reminding you of the notification.

Fuck it.

Pressed your thumb and your phone unlocked.

Hey, it’s me. Jeon Jungkook… I wanted to say that I’m sorry about not talking that much last night. I was really nervous because you were so pretty and self-assured. I was so impressed that nothing I could think of seemed like a good thing to say, so I blanked out. I’m very sorry. I hope it is okay for me to text you like this.

An essay.

You paused for so long that you felt your cheeks heat.

The fuck?

You frowned at yourself. For some reason, even though he hadn’t talked much, you could hear the text in your head as if Jungkook was speaking to you directly. Sense the anxiousness in the typed words. See those big eyes gazing right at you with a mixture of curiosity and wonder and what-ifs. You sighed, feeling defeated. It would simply be rude to not reply.

I apologize for being too intimidating.

You sent it before thinking. Aw, shit. That was a bit short, wasn’t it? Damnnit. You saw the sending quadlet of dots spinning slowly, struggling due to you being underground. Fuck. If you sent another message now, it might be out of order and that would just get confusing. And what else could you add? Oh, geez, you didn’t even confirm it was you. The conversation with Park Jimin must have scrambled your egg brains.

The train roared out of the tunnel.

All of a sudden, the message sent and a reply instantly popped up. Actually, a serious of bubbles, rapid-fire like bullets. The confirmation must have lagged.

You’re not intimidating at all! Well… not in a bad way. In a sexy way. I mean, in a good way! In a cool way, like you’re not afraid to say what you wanna say. I really admire that in a person, so I really admire that in you. Sorry, that was weird, wasn’t it? I made things weird… ㅠ.ㅠ

You blinked slowly at the messages. It was pretty clear Jungkook had sat there and pondered over the first message for quite a while and these subsequent ones were stream of consciousness spewing. Honestly, kind of funny. Heh. You could sort of imagine it. Maybe he hadn’t expected you to respond right away. Hm, you wondered if he had hoped you would. He really was trying hard, huh. For what? What was the reason?

You tucked your tongue in your cheek and responded anyway.

Oh, you’re definitely weird, but you never know. I might like that. What’s the outfit of the day, Jeon Jungkook?

Were you fishing for a photo? Of course. He would probably scramble to put on a good outfit to impress you. To your surprise, the downloading image icon popped up instantaneously, spinning, spinning. You tilted your head, surprised at the prompt obedience. He must have snapped a pic right away when you asked. It was taking time to load though. You saw some people getting off the train and looked up, checking the stop. Oh, yours was next.

You took care not to look directly at anyone around you, keeping your sling bag in your lap.

Then you looked down to the inquisitive dark brown eyes of Jeon Jungkook with messy black hair and a black leather jacket. White t-shirt. It was a selfie, so you couldn’t see the pants. It was something borderline vain about the angle, but also a seek of approval in that parted mouth, silver ring and stud dotting the edge of the right side, flash of white teeth and slight bite of the left side revealing a small mole at the center underneath his lower lip.

You twitched.

Bold, wasn’t he?

You weren’t sure if you liked it – well, you didn’t mind it, you just weren’t sure if you like-liked it, what was he trying to play at here, trying to get your heart to beat fast or something, hmph – and you clutched your phone pointedly, your rings clacking as you prepped your fingers to type back… something, be honest here… and your fingers wavered.

Shaking a little.

You let out a breath you hadn’t known you had been holding.

Oh, the pants are blue jeans, but I’m out right now so there’s no mirror to show you.

You heard your stop being called and stood up automatically, filing behind other people getting ready to step off, the train slowing down, everything slowing down, finding yourself staring at Jungkook’s expression in the photo, why were you staring, shifting your eyes quickly, then back, it wasn’t like Jeon Jungkook could see you, ugh, this was so annoying.

Do you want to see? I can take another photo when I get home.

You let out a frustrated exhale that no one else around you could understand. Maybe not even those closest to you would get it. But you knew what it meant, and knowing also frustrated you.

Being self-aware was a bitch.

You finally sent your answer.

I much prefer this look on you than the blazer. Is this your normal fashion style?

You had worn a flowing white blouse and floaty black skirt the night before at dinner, but it was not your typical style. Well, it was, but it was one of your work outfits since you had come straight from the office. Something you wore to not get in trouble with the dress code and knowing you would have to meet up with people later. Sometimes you were a little riskier if you were feeling frisky, but Jimin had told you to look nice for the friend he was introducing you to.

But maybe it would have been better to look more you.

Then again, the restaurant was pretty high end. They might not have let you in.

Oh. Yeah. Hahaha, I wore the blazer because Jimin-ssi told me to look nice for you. I guess this is street-style? I don’t know… I’m not fashionable, I only wear what I think is cool or comfy. What about you?

You strode out of the train and briskly walked to the elevator, muscle memory already knowing where to go, typing back. Pausing when you saw the vending machine. A green tea would be nice right now.

You veered off course and headed to stand in line.

I think my friends would describe my style as dark and strong. They’re always telling me I should dress more feminine or at least in less black, but one of my core traits is not listening to shit people say. And swearing.

You tapped your card and made your selection. Waited out the whirr and clunk. Didn’t pay much attention to the world around you. It was a typical day, people passing by, no warning feelings. And, besides, your phone was much more interesting right now.

You did not just think that.

You scowled at your reflection in the glass of the vending machine before picking up your drink.

I hope I get to see you sometime soon so I can appreciate it. :)

You raised an eyebrow at your phone as you ticked open the can and started walking again, taking a crisp sip. It was slightly irritating that he was better at flirting over text than in person. Or maybe it had just been the circumstance. Come to think of it, it would have been weird if he did with Jimin right there, although you were sure Jimin wanted to be there to witness whatever unfolded. The awkwardness was probably just as entertaining to him as it would be if Jungkook had been more forward.

Hmph.

What was more irritating was that you weren’t instantly annoyed by it.

Hmmmmph.

Are you saying you aren’t intimidated by me, Jeon Jungkook?

You hurried home, following the streetlights, breathless, not because you were running, but because you wanted to be home so you could be alone with…

I’m saying I like feeling your effect on me in person.

Him.

wednesday.

The next time you saw Jeon Jungkook, you were groaning and setting your forehead on the edge of washing machine, screaming internally. Would have banged it against the metal if you weren’t going to lose a substantial number of brain cells. You were going to pay cash because you wouldn’t get that card surcharge if you did but, of course, of course you had accidentally shorted yourself and pocketed the wrong amount.

Fuck!

Now you were already at the laundromat. Walk back home and lug your shit to and back to get the right amount? Or just forget it and pay the extra charge? You had already put the detergent in. Fuckity fuck fuck. Technically you could go home, it wasn’t that far, but, ugh, it was extra annoying today because you had slept late and now you were grumpily doing your life responsibilities. Come back a different day? No, you had specifically told yourself to get off your ass and get that pile washed. Damnnit, if you hadn’t slept late and scrambled your egg brains, this wouldn’t have happened!

But you had been talking to Jeon Jungkook.

Ending the conversation had been more difficult than you expected. You gritted your teeth, feeling stupid for pulling such a teenage move. Still young, huh? Young and stupid.

Grr.

You heard the metal slide of the money drawer being closed and then an approval ping!

You jumped back, freaked out at the thing you hadn’t done, and then snapped your head to the sudden presence next to you. Dark blue jeans with giant holes at the knees. Gray hoodie sliding off a built right shoulder. White ribbed tank top. Messy black hair. A piercing, no, two on the right side of open lips.

Big, round, dark brown eyes.

You noticed he was wearing a few silver rings himself.

“Um… hi? I noticed you were short a little so I just…” Jeon Jungkook trailed off, giving you a hopeful look.

You gawked at him.

“What are you doing here?”

Ouch. A little too snappy. Jungkook faltered, those peepers shifting. “Ah… well…”

You bit your tongue and reeled it back. “Sorry. I didn’t expect to see you, is all. Obviously, you came here to wash your clothes like everyone else.”

He reached up and scratched the back of his head nervously. Wait. Why was he looking at you like that?

“W-Well, actually… Jimin-ssi told me you normally come here on Wednesdays to do laundry and I was nearby so I figured., maybe, I’d just check if you were here…”

You stared at him.

“You’re stalking me?”

“N-No!” Jungkook sputtered, waving his hands frantically even though you hadn’t raised your voice.

There was a bristle to your tone though. Indignation and frigidity you couldn’t hide. You frowned, narrowing your eyes, cornering him with your gaze. There were only a few people on this slow day, which was why you picked Wednesday to do laundry, but all the patrons had AirPods or other earbuds in, busying themselves with their shoving of clothing in and out of the washers and dryers. No one was going to interrupt anyway.

Not their business.

“I… I…”

“And how did you recognize me anyway? My head was down,” you remembered, advancing on him, and Jungkook took a step back, swallowing hard. Your outfit was baggy too, dark denim jacket and jeans, the tight black tank hidden by the bulk.

“I couldn’t forget how beautiful your hair is,” he mumbled out quickly, looking a little too mesmerized by your fierceness. Forget that. “And your hands were on the edge of the washer. Your rings. The star chain bracelet you wear. I…”

He was fixated on your collarbones and the thin black choker around your neck.

Or lower.

“Oi! My face is up here,” you hissed, snaping your fingers and making him jerk his head. He had stopped backing up though. You pointed at him, somewhat rudely. Actually, very rudely, but whatever. “What do you mean, check if I was here? And who told you? That idiot. I’ll kill him.”

And why was Jungkook looking at you like that?

Like he thought you were hot when angry.

He better stop that shit because you were losing your irate demeanor for some fuckin’ reason.

“I texted you almost all night. That wasn’t enough?” you half-growled, half whispered.

A tiny head shake.

Ah, shit.

You deliberately did not think that was cute.

“I liked it so much that I…” Oh no, oh no, not that honest tremble and deep gaze into your eyes. “I was hoping I could talk to you again, in person, more bravely this time.”

You opened your mouth to sink in that verbal bite and nothing came out.

The entire laundromat could flood right now and you wouldn’t even notice because you were staring at Jeon Jungkook and wondering if this audacity was freaking annoying or freaking impressive. Not this damn guy within two days leaving you speechless. Well… actually, no, never mind the technicalities.

“Are you even thinking before you do things?” you grumbled, not yet backing down.

Jungkook stuck his hands in his hoodie pockets suddenly. Hm? Nervous and shaking? You couldn’t tell, but you watched him closely, observing his body language, your eyes following those lines.

“Mmmm…” He bit the left side of his lower lip. “No?”

You strongly resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

Shy smile greeting you, accompanying the lip bite.

“I’m just listening to my heart.”

Now you visibly cringed. “Don’t say stuff like that.” Looking away slightly, somehow unable to meet those honest eyes.

“Why? You don’t like it?” Genuinely curious.

“You don’t mean it.” He did mean it and you could see that he meant it but you did not want to admit that you knew that he meant it. Yeah. “You barely know me. We only talked over text.”

“But you gave me thoughtful, frank answers. I don’t believe that you were being dishonest,” Jungkook protested, following you over to the tables a few steps away from the washing machines. You dragged your laundry bag with you and kept your voice down.

“I told you, I’m a straightforward an honest person. I won’t lie to you. And I won’t hesitate to cut you off if you lie to me,” you reminded him.

He nodded. You wanted to shake him and yell at him to stop giving you those eyes. “So I just decided to do what I wanted to.”

You cocked your head at him in disbelief. “You didn’t think you went too far?”

What was with that mischievous smile? “I’m the all-in type.”

You let out a puff of air.

“Also, you haven’t told me directly that you don’t like it,” Jungkook pointed out, leaning toward you, smiling.

You gave him a deadpan stare. “You don’t get me,” you said back flatly.

Those dark brown orbs sparkled. “That’s okay. I don’t have to get you to think you’re cool, clever, and stunning.”

Your eyebrow twitched.

“And why do you say that? Because you see how people look at me? Because you enjoyed my useless facts and tangents last night? Because you think with your dick?” You added the last question with bite, leaning forward too, having enough of this, not really him but…

The fact that you didn’t want to tell him to fuck right off.

Silence.

Jungkook was staring into your eyes.

“The shape of your eyes is so… perfect.”

You felt your ears heat.

He raised a finger and traced the air right in front of your left eye, the scent of his clean cologne drifting in your direction. “The way they sharpen in the inner corner, like a bird of prey… And your irises are so dark and striking…”

You grabbed his finger out of the air.

“Don’t be… weird.”

Why did you pause? Hello? No way you’re being like this over this guy right now.

You pointedly pulled his hand down, pinning it to the table. “Pay attention.”

Jungkook was giving you this dreamy, hazy expression. “Huh? What were you saying?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You can’t even listen.”

He leaned in closer and you caught a whiff of that delicious cologne again. “Sorry. I will. Say it again, please. I’ll listen carefully.”

The fuck were you saying again? The lights of the old laundromat flickered but you barely noticed. A common occurrence in these ol’ mom-and-pop places. And, besides, you were staring at this determined, patient smile and mentally shoving down those butterflies that you definitely weren’t feeling, nope, violently compacting those distracting internalizations into a tiny, windowless box.

“You don’t seem very good at listening,” you finally said, tight and even.

“I am,” he insisted softly. “I promise.”

“I’m too much for you.”

Or was Jungkook too much for you?

“I’m offering all of me,” he whispered to the shared air between you and him. “It might not be enough so I’ll be to work hard and do my best.”

What was he so earnest for? You hesitated, the edges to your hard demeanor softening. You didn’t want to trust stuff like this. It was so easy to get burned and you wanted to be the one to do the burning. And how could you trust people? Even you didn’t say everything out loud. Some things you could say and some you couldn’t say. It was too much trouble to believe in someone.

You had never received unburdened kindness when you were younger.

“We’re not on the same page.”

Jungkook tilted his head. “Aren’t we? But you’re reading me easily and I’m doing my best to learn about you too.”

Your shoulders released the tension. “Don’t pretend with me. It’s clear you’re a relationship kind of guy. And, while I’m not against them, I can’t deliver the same kind of devotion you are willing to give. Can’t you see that?” You removed your hand from his, not realizing it was still there.

His fingertip traced a line on the back of your hand.

Sparks raced along the base of your head.

You remained stern, feeling heavy and hot in your clothes.

“Why do you say that? You don’t think you’re loyal?” he asked very sincerely.

Your eyes narrowed. “Of course, I am. If I like you in that way and you asked me to bury a body, I’d already be digging the grave. But I’m not a flowers-and-chocolate kind of girl. That’s not how I show affection.”

You had no idea how far your clothes were in the cycle. The whole world could crash down and you would still be staring at Jungkook and his body language. His shoulders slouched a little more so he could look up at you with those pleading eyes.

Inhale still in your throat.

“Then, do you not like me?”

Say something.

But you didn’t say anything at all, gazing down at Jeon Jungkook and wondering why you couldn’t get through his thick skull that you were a bad decision. Honestly? Honestly, fine, it was because you grew up with parents that never liked each other nor their kids. Honestly, it was because you grew up too fast and with too much independence to not see the filthiness of the world. Honestly, it was because you saw the finicky innate nature of humanity of never devoting themselves to anything, much less anyone, and why would they?

People were crazy.

Call it personal experience.

You sighed.

“Jungkook, I’m not gonna lie to you. I fuck before I care about anybody. I’m only living to get my pleasure and not take care of anyone, okay? I’m barely keeping my own head together. I’m blunt. I don’t need or want romantic gestures. I just want dick. There. I’m not a good person.”

He was smiling.

Aw, shit.

“I must be favored to know you.”

You twitched, tucking your tongue in your cheek to avoid scowling, which was pretty much scowling anyway, so you failed spectacularly.

“Also, you haven’t said you don’t like me,” Jungkook pointed out. Infuriatingly. “Because it’s not true and you don’t lie. Right?” He said your name with a little too much sweetness and knowing.

You yanked your hand out of his and shoved his hard, muscular chest. He bounced back, grinning a little too happily. You told yourself to hate it and you didn’t. Fuck. “What are you even still doing here? Gonna fold my clothes for me or something?”

The energy at being offered a household chore was disturbing. “Oh! I can! I’m very good at doing laundry. And washing dishes. And cleaning. I like doing that stuff.”

“Sure, you do,” you puffed sarcastically,

“I do,” Jungkook insisted, coming around the table. “And I’m good at it.”

You scrutinized him up a down. “Yeah? Because you don’t know where else to put all that energy of yours?”

His lips parted but all he did was gawk at you. Oop. Right on the money. You were liking this expression a little too much. Maybe it was time to lower these walls a bit. After all, it didn’t seem like Jungkook was going to go away any time soon. He was pretty harmless anyway.

“I could drain you in a night,” you chuckled, smirking.

The tips of his ears were getting red at your lowered tone.

“You think you could keep up?”

thursday.

Ugh, it was one of those days that fuckin’ suuuucked.

Woke up late and had to rush to get dressed and bounce, then got to work and some shit was going down about missing documents and people moving papers they shouldn’t have, forcing you to play manager because everyone else had no goddamn spine to fix anything. This department would be a disaster without you. To top it all off, you had people stalling, keeping an irrelevant conversation going, leading you on a wild goose chase with no funny honking – turns out the documents were in some random copier right behind you, for fuck’s sake – and you had a very strong inkling it was because of what you looked like.

Which was fine.

Unless you were actually trying to do your job.

Then, one of your side dishes you had brought for lunch had gone off, so you ended up slightly less full than you wanted to be, and you forgot your jacket at work, leaving it hanging on the back of your chair in your rush to leave, and the train halted several stations before your stop because there was some emergency maintenance or some shit.

Fuckity fuck.

It wouldn’t be so annoying it if wasn’t so windy, but it was and you were wearing a sheer sweater with splashes of jewel-toned colors and a longline black sports bra under it – you had worn your jacket half-zipped until your boss had left in the middle of the day and your co-workers didn’t care how you looked, the dress code was stupid anyway – and black jeans, mid-rise. The rules were more about being covered up rather than being professionally dressed.

The job was primarily sitting at a desk and sorting documents, did it matter how you looked?

Or maybe you just broke the rules a little because you were a rebel.

Your stomach growled angrily and you told it to shut the fuck up.

You stood on the corner halfway between work and home, debating on whether or not to do some damage. The problem was you didn’t have any of the usual bad habits most people had. You didn’t drink, so getting stupid drunk and getting thrown out of the noraebang was out of the question. Also, you couldn’t sing. But, anyway, you barely took medicine, let alone know where or how to procure the illegal fun stuff, so that was also out. You didn’t have a sweet tooth either so you couldn’t down a whole cake with gusto, although that sounded like a great way to go.

You sulked.

You had an addiction, but you just stared at the names in your phone and felt guilty. Guilty! For what? For some guy you met literally less than four days ago? Ugh, no, this couldn’t be you right now. Seriously? Seriously? You crossed and stalked up the block, not yet deciding what to do so you kept walking until you figured it out during this internal battle. You had to keep this guy at a distance. Okay, yes, you could admit you liked him.

And that was the problem.

If you didn’t really like him, you could just fuck him and establish those hard boundaries. No issue. You had been in love before but that was a long time ago and ultimately you ended it because it wasn’t right and you weren’t good enough to be devoted to.

You breathed out hard, the unease spilling out of your insides.

It was definitely easier to not expect anything from anyone. You had spent a lot of life not having and, ultimately, not needing to rely on others, both out of necessity and simply having too much to work on by yourself. Years of fighting off bitterness that you had always tasted, years of letting go of important moments realizing that supposedly important people in your life would never be there for them, years of lashing out and becoming the shadow of the abuse you endured. Eye for an eye and all that. Keep the cycle going, until you had that moment in the eye of the storm to get hit by lightning and realize that this wasn’t right.

It wasn’t any particular thing.

Just finally accepting the creeping self-awareness that you had been miserable and were making other people miserable on purpose because you tore them open and took their hearts to find yours.

Metaphorically, duh.

So now you sort of did this martyr shit of being there for people when you could and not asking for anything back. Especially not a relationship. Intimate to heal a heart and then give it away, which totally worked if they weren’t into you, just into what you could do.

You didn’t really feel it yourself but you did get sex out of it.

Bad addiction, yeah.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket.

You ignored it.

Stepped into a chicken place and stood in line, feeling the weight of your world on your shoulders. You brain tried to reason with you that it was Jeon Jungkook’s own fault if he got hurt. He was the one who chose to spend all that time sitting at the laundromat with you talking about random shit. Your favorite video game – Persona 5, excelling in your top three most important things about a video game: music score, gameplay, and art style. Your favorite American rapper – Ludacris and the way he could rhyme the weirdest words. Your favorite movie genre – surrealist psychedelic drug movies, which earned you a confused head tilt. You had asked Jungkook what he liked. Mood lamps. Singing. Watching cooking videos on YouTube.

Had asked him if he believed in soulmates.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you ordered at the kiosk and paid.

You don’t think I could have met you in another life?

You stood with the other waiting patrons, ignoring everybody and your phone thrumming against your hip, thinking about last night.

I probably broke your heart.

Thinking about that smile with two piercings and a lip mole. That smile didn’t trust your answer at all.

Maybe the universe is giving me another chance to make up for my past mistakes. I can’t give up.

You made a face at past Jungkook’s answer, too taken aback all those hours ago to scowl properly. Maybe you had been too tired. Too worn down by his earnest nonsense to fight it properly at that moment. Your hand hovered over you hip, wondering if you should check it. Then dropped.

What, did you need to see him every day or something?

Your name was called and you stepped up to receive your order.

Oh, fuck, you miss him.

You yanked your phone out of your pocket and stared at it as you walked out of the restaurant, only to get plopped by a fat raindrop on the lit-up screen. You looked up to the gray sky and let out a hiss.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

You turned around and sat down, grumbling as rain poured down and you replied to Jungkook’s texts.

Stupid.

Not him. Just you.

friday.

“What are you trying so hard for?” you snapped.

“Why aren’t you trying hard enough?” Jeon Jungkook shot back.

It was going really well.

Clearly.

You let out a hiss and flicked your hands as if you were trying to physically get rid of his reply. Argh, this… man! The thundering rain was pouring down, down, and you were both standing under a bus stop with no intention of taking the bus. You bit back the volume of your sudden anger. There was no need to yell anyway. No one was coming out in the thick of this monsoon.

Only you and crazy-ass Jeon Jungkook.

Switched tactics. "And what makes you think your virgin ass–"

"I'm not a virgin!"

"You are here!"

And you jammed two fingers into that very muscular chest, right next to the left side of his sternum. Too fast to be stopped. The shove actually made him stumble. Or maybe it was the utter shock of the verbal and physical double jab combined with the deep growl that your voice had suddenly become. His racer jacket and black hair were slick with rain. Half of his white t-shirt soaked. Even the front of his blue jeans drenched.

You panted hard after your outburst, the anger draining away all in a flash of lightning.

Jungkook stared at you with stricken eyes.

The rain pelted down, down, beating into the silence.

“How did you know?” he breathed out.

You didn’t but somehow you did, feeling something inside of you break. Not afraid of the world. Never, never again. No, afraid of what you could do, afraid of breaking something this pure, because you broke your first love too and that past guilt still lingered. Not that you thought Jungkook loved you. He couldn’t This was only the fifth day of him knowing you.

The fuck is going on?

“I see your type all the time,” you sighed, your damp hair all over your face. “Looking for light in black holes instead of stars.” The rain had slipped off your black leather jacket. Your cropped band shirt wasn’t wet, but your black cargo pants were sodden knees down.

This coldness, however, didn’t come from the rain.

“You really should stop. For your own good.”

You looked away from him, feeling as if your own words had pierced bullet holes into your walls. Dark sky, never-ending rain, cars struggling to drive, people running with umbrellas and ponchos, arms huddled close to their bodies, and here you were just standing here in the rain, the world acting out your mind. How nice. You thought you had come to terms with everything, but obviously not. Somehow once you saw Jungkook again, once you felt his presence again, the pull was even stronger and the storm was even more intense and the worst part was that you didn’t want to leave.

You heard Jungkook’s soft, silvery voice through the gray rain.

“Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?”

You turned your head to look into those pleading brown eyes.

Lightning shot across the sky.

Thunder followed seconds after, eating up the night.

“W… What?”

He shook his head, dripping water.

“You haven’t hurt me. You don’t mean to, either.”

That smile, his hand extended, the inked snake on his wrist showing.

You stared at Jeon Jungkook with droplets beading on your skin but those goosebumps weren’t from the weather. Jerked your head away. What is with this gentleness? How could he know anything? He couldn’t know anything. He was just an airhead who watched too many dramas and made others believe that they could be real.

“Noona?”

You whipped your head to Jungkook, shocked at his use of the honorific. He only used it when Jimin was at the meal. Afterwards, the conversations had been clearly directed at you. Not completely informal speech, but sometimes you slipped and he did too. You never corrected him because, well.

You slapped his hand away.

Nothing was going to happen.

You closed the distance and grabbed his head, pressing your lips to his shaking ones.

It was going to be terrible. Cold. Wet. Acidic from the lingering feelings. There was no way that this kiss could be anything else with this setting.

This was real life.

Not a story.

Your hands cupped his cheeks and you sunk into his kiss. The hard edge of his jewelry and the softness of his breath, caught by your mouth, your eyes already screwed shut, nothing to do but feel, feel the way he instantly pressed back and set his hands on your elbows, pulling you closer, shuddering as your forearms pressed to his chest. A weird feeling, like two fires melting together, prickling racing across your skin, no, deeper, past your ribs and into your heart.

The storm raged on.

You snapped out of the kiss, nose to nose, water trickling in places it shouldn’t, over your eyelashes and down your neck, feeling fingers graze across your elbows. Slipping under the leather. Droplets soaking into your shirt and then warm hands lingering at the curve of your exposed waist.

Tracing your lines.

“Fuck,” you muttered.

And you kissed Jeon Jungkook again.

saturday.

No, you didn’t take him home. You’re reckless, yeah.

But you knew how that would go.

Not that Jungkook didn’t try. Maybe you would have done it, if you weren’t the equivalent of wet cat and equally torrenting emotions. His hands around your waist, pulling you closer, heat blossoming between layers of rain-drenched clothing, kiss after kiss, your hands in his hair, tangling those dark waves into wilderness, getting more and more breathless, heady with a feeling you knew but didn’t want to believe in.

For someone who hated lying, you sure enjoyed lying to yourself.

You had reasons.

How could this time be different if it was just following the same trajectory that you always followed?

You had to pry yourself from him, lips tingling, tongue curling, feeling your blood course through your veins and your heartbeat as loud as thunder, opening your eyes to his blissed-out expression, his own eyes still closed, pressing his lips together to savor your taste.

Damn.

You had wanted to tell him to stop it, stop it with all this falling, you were being dragged down by his vibe, clothes feeling heavy, desperate to be stripped away, but you kept your hands along the sides of his head, your exhale escaping but giving you away like a bad con artist.

Those shimmering dark eyes had opened, following Jungkook’s smile.

“You’re a great kisser, noona.”

His hands stayed on your waist, drumming his fingertips on your skin, tangible kisses creating invisible but no less real electricity.

You scoffed, corner of your lips rising.

“Shut up.”

Tendrils of his black-brown hair clung to his forehead. The rain drummed but it had lessened a bit. You had looked back to his eyes, defeated.

“Shut up so I don’t miss you more.”

One last, drawn-out kiss, tongue to tongue and you had broken from him, warning him sternly.

“Don’t follow me.”

Ran all the way home, face burning, not even feeling the rain even though it was still falling.

Now, present time, you sat at this boring farewell party in some fancy hotel with the sun blaring outside. Figures the nice weather would come out when you would have to stuff yourself in a fitted blazer dress and pretend to care about your boss’s boss retiring. Black, of course. For the formal occasion. Sadly, no one was dying except this old coot’s career.

Maybe you were a little salty that you couldn’t retire yet.

You looked down at your phone, which was on silent, noticing you had a new message.

ㅎ.ㅎ

O… Okay. Whatever that face was supposed to mean. You didn’t even bother to answer. Couldn’t, anyway, forced to plaster on a mildly interested expression as your boss gave a speech that you zoned out of. There were multiple large circular tables in the hotel ballroom. Outside the ballroom was an outdoor area with the buffet. Everyone had served themselves before sitting down, but, first, a few words.

A few was turning out to be too many and your salmon was getting cold.

Employees had been allowed to bring plus ones. Wives and husbands. There were a few empty seats, and a few significant others popped in mid-speech, trying to be quiet and politely bowing in apology. Of course, they weren’t required to be on time, having other obligations and such.

You twitched.

Was that why this was dragging on? So everyone could eat at once? For fuck’s sake, who cared if they were late. Then you noticed your boss’s wife stepping in, looking pretty and put-together in a forest green high-necked dress, holding the small hand of a kid in a lopsided children’s tuxedo with an equally confused expression.

Oh.

Come on.

You suddenly felt a disturbance in the Force.

“Excuse me. Sorry, sorry.”

You whipped your head around to see Jeon Jungkook in a black pinstripe suit cha-cha sliding in the empty chair next to you, picking up your black velvet purse and holding it out to you with a grin that made his large, dark brown eyes light up.

You gawked at him.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” He added your name politely and with affection, smooth as butter, criminal undercover. Even the honorific, oh, shit.

The blood drained out of your face and you tried not to think about how your co-workers sitting at the table were staring at you and him like you both had three heads. Of course, no one was supposed to be talking, so no one asked questions yet, but that was definitely going to start the second your boss was finished with his sentence.

You took your purse without another word and glared at Jungkook with such fire that you hoped he burned alive at the spot. Oh, this could turn into a murder and a funeral real fucking fast. All he did was give you those shining big peepers that made you want to strangle him. In an unsexy way.

For now.

You leaned over as the clapping started. He caught on and delicately leaned over, offering his ear to your lips.

“The fuck are you doing?”

Jungkook turned his head so only you could hear his whisper.

“I was nearby, so I figured…?”

You stared at him, plumb slack-jawed at this audacity.

He closed the distance and gently kissed your cheek. You ticked your head almost robotically, piercing eyes following his playful ones, and now you wondered if Jeon Jungkook was truly not right in the head or perfect for you.

Well.

You weren’t right in the head either.

You did text him earlier this morning that you needed to come to this party at this hotel to send off this important retiree. If you missed this, then it would have reflected poorly on you, especially when you wanted to keep your job, so, yes, it was part of the reason why you had not attempted to convince Jungkook to sleep over – not that he needed any convincing whatsoever – and the other reason was to get enough sleep so you could tolerate socializing. Did you think Jungkook was gonna finesse his way into the seat next to you? Hell no. Did you think he was gonna dress smartly and with his black hair parted neatly in the center, fuckin’ black tie pressed and collar pinned? Fuck, no.

Did you think you would like it?

No!

“How did you get them to let you in?” you hissed under your breath.

Jungkook was clapping like a seal because everyone else was. A champagne bottle was being popped. He looked systematically impressed and awed. Amazing acting. “I just said I was with you.” Glanced at you and grinned, the silver piercings on his lip gleaming. A hoop and a stud. “Aren’t I, noona?”

The urge to growl at him to shut the fuck up was silenced by your brain reminding you to be safe-for-work.

You felt a poke at your sleeve. Your co-worker sitting at your left, bleach-blond and with the curiosity of a child. Full of sudden comments and questions too, just like a kid.

“Oh, oh! You never mentioned anything about a boyfriend!” Because you didn’t have one until right now, apparently. “So handsome!” Yes, he was. You had taste. “How did you meet?” Circumstances beyond your control.

“Through a… friend.”

That was a very generous word for instigator Park Jimin.

Jungkook poked his head past you and waved. “Hi! Nice to meet you.” He was using you as a shield to avoid directly interacting with these people he didn’t know. Just chiming in with polite nods as you introduced him to the table and sitting back to let you have this uninvited spotlight that was burning you like the sun did to vampires.

Pretty close, in all honesty.

“Aw, what a sweet guy. It’s nice to meet you too. I didn’t think your type was so young and cute.”

You almost made a face of distaste. “You thought my type was old and ugly?” Oop, there goes your sharp tongue.

“Nooo.” You tried not to flinch at the playful slap of your arm. “More mature, maybe? But this is better. You don’t have to be so serious. Look at his smile! I bet that’s what drew you in.”

You glanced at Jungkook and he appropriately smiled big at the right time. Somehow, he had obtained a plate of steak. How, you didn’t care. You narrowed your eyes just a sliver. Jungkook did not stop smiling but there was at least an iota of fear in those big brown eyes. Speaking of vampire, maybe you should suck the life out of him because he was being too fuckin’ much.

“Well, he was persistent to put it lightly. Might as well give him the chance to win me over.”

Jungkook beamed like a billion-kilowatt lightbulb. Or a crystal chandelier. It depended if you wanted to say the light came from his white teeth or sparkling eyeballs.

Fuckity fuck.

You wanted to rub your temples but refrained.

You would never recover from this.

“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asked you later.

Oh, now he wondered if you’re mad. You didn’t even look at him, dragging him away from the crowd by the elbow. Hopefully you had stayed long enough but there had been so many of the same questions that you were either getting dizzy or murderous. Hm. Why not both?

“I’m not mad at you,” you muttered.

“You kinda sound mad.”

“I’m not mad but I’m gonna get mad if you keep saying I am,” you warned. “Don’t start a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“A what?”

“Where did you park?”

His voice became small even though he was right next to you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

The sun was blaring down on the open parking lot, it was annoyingly humid, you were socially drained, and this, not this. You spun abruptly, too much crashing down too fast, flinging Jungkook’s arm from you.

“No,” you hissed out. “No. Don’t you dare take it back. You wanna be crazy and drive me crazy, fine, do it, keep doing it, don’t stop, but own up. I’ve got enough push-and-pull jammed into my head and I don’t need you adding to it.”

It was so easy to simply give in to the rising anger, but you found yourself locked into Jungkook’s wide, taken-back eyes, drowning in them, deeper than the ocean, seeing how rueful he was.

“Don’t do that to me,” you sighed.

At least your voice didn’t crack. You didn’t want to be angry anyway.

You raised your hand to cup his cheek but paused, not knowing anymore what was what. Always been so sure until the world started getting flipped upside down by Jeon Jungkook. You always knew all of the things to do to make someone interested, all the things to say to make them swoon, and now you didn’t know anything at all because this guy showed up and jumped right in, not even caring about the damages, the fine print, or the past that lingered.

Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?

Jungkook leaned forward and completed the curve of his cheek into your hollow palm, now looking at you eye-to-eye with a curious expression.

The corner of your lips curved upwards.

You leaned forward, saying your next words very seriously.

“You. Are. Crazy.”

sunday.

You sat against the window, waiting for the document to print out.

No one was in the office. You had rolled over here out of sheer boredom, looking up at the gray-blue sky and watching shafts of sunlight phase in and out. Overtime to prepare documents for Monday. You hadn’t bothered to follow dress code, but there was a breeze today, so you wore brown plaid trousers and an old vintage t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. The faded album cover of Papa Roach’s Infest. Your oversized black leather jacket was on the back of your office chair once again.

You spun in your chair, the print job long done.

Thought back on the week.

Day one, awkward dinner and the start of a rollercoaster.

Day two, clutching your phone and waiting for replies due to the spotty service of the subway.

Day three, washing machines and dryers and long conversations.

Day four, shitty day with a nice ending to more texts. Better service too.

Day five, cold rain and warm lips.

Day six, surprise! You have a boyfriend and everybody knows!

You got up and wandered to the copier. Stacked everything up and clipped the right parts together, setting it on your boss’s desk. Glanced at the time at your computer. The blank screensaver abruptly appeared, showing you your blurred reflection.

Your fingertips lingered on your chest, the soft, worn fabric of the shirt reminding you of night after tumultuous night of the past. Time that made you, you. Scars you made by holding on too tightly to pain others gave you. The thought of scars in others that you started and they held on to. Repenting, in a way, healing the hearts that came in your path with intimacy and the passion you were afraid to show Jeon Jungkook because what if, what if…

What if it actually matched well?

“You,” Park Jimin had said to you months ago, “You need someone who thinks of you as their whole world.”

“I don’t want that.”

“You don’t want it. But you need it.”

You didn’t have Park-Jimin-being-right on this year’s bingo card, fuck.

You clocked out and collected your stuff, turning off the lights as you left the office, black boots the only solid sound around you, pulling out your phone to check the address one more time.

“Why are you wearing clothes?” you asked accusingly.

“Um…?”

You gripped the sides of the denim jacket and yanked it off his shoulders, pinning Jeon Jungkook’s arms to his sides. He immediately yelped but you silenced him by stepping through the door and pulling him to you by the button placket, tracing the edge of his open lips with your tongue.

“W-Wait, noona, the d-door…”

“I don’t care.”

Kissed him, deeply.

That now familiar scent, closer, slipping your tongue between his lips, succumbing to the flutters. In, out, feeling him collapse under you and moan in his throat, hard body stumbling into yours, hand haphazardly smacking the edge of the door.

It closed behind you.

You rolled your body into his, closer than close with too many layers in between, tangling his arms in his own jacket, swallowing his gasp and feeling him wiggle determinedly to free his hands and then they were on your face, strong fingers fanning out over your jaw, his jacket falling to the floor, hungrily following your tongue and lips with his own.

Something addicting about the addition of metal to those soft mouth.

This was your forte, the ability to make fantasies come true, and you took it seriously, throwing your bag onto the table by the door and shedding the protective layer of leather. Pressed chest to chest, holding his head and tracing his lips, slow fucking them, running your fingertips over the curve of his ears and making him shiver, noting the three hoops along his left ear.

Pressed your hands down his chest, over the smooth ribbed white tank molding to his muscular torso, down, down, kissing past his lips, to that mole underneath, down his chin, his head tipping back, your name drifting above your head as you kissed down his neck, the sharp clean scent of his cologne getting stronger.

“I thought… we were… o-oh, g-going out…”

“I’m gonna fuck you,” you breathed into his collarbones, hot and low, nicking his skin with your teeth and making him shiver. “Right now. Tonight. Maybe tomorrow too.” Undid the button of his jeans with some effort, yanking him towards you again and molding your hips to his, thighs to hard thighs, and that stiffness wasn’t only a sturdy zipper. “Tuesday as well. Fuck it.”

“The whole week,” Jungkook gasped as you unzipped his charcoal jeans.

“Yeah, good, you’re keeping up,” you murmured and grabbed his head again, catching a fistful of his black hair, kissing him hard with your other palm pressed to his hardness. Your tongue tracing the edge of his lips, breathing into his mouth and swallowing Jungkook’s wanton moan, intoxicated by the moment.

You pulled back just to yank your shirt over your head, tossing it to the floor.

It took longer for it to float down than for you to get on your knees.

“Woah…!”

Hooked your fingers on the elastic waistband of his Calvin Kleins and tugged them down, exhaling over that thick length that popped out. He smelled clean, like he had just showered, and you half-smiled, approving, closing the distance to curl your tongue around hard taut skin.

“Ooooh… fuuuuuuuck…”

Tightly taking control, using only your tongue to scoop around his girth and flick against his balls. Kisses, licks, flutters of breath, all of it, sensation after sensation, layering on the heat, adding sweetness to the obscene, his twitching cock hitting your cheek as you pressed kisses to his balls.

“Let me show you something,” you hummed and swallowed his pride.

Jungkook gasped so loud that his hands shot up to his mouth, fingers laced over his moan, one inked arm and one tan one, tilting his head back as your lips closed around him, softly, your tongue cupping the head, caressing the underside, the slit, letting him throb against wet muscle. Pushed him up to the roof of your mouth and slowly, in and out, rubbing the base of the head against your lips every time you ascended, fanning your fingers over his crotch to hold the base and cup his balls in between your index and thumb. Steady and consistent, sucking him off with deliberate precision.

You had a lot of fancy skills to show off but, for this first time, might as well give him the stripped-down version.

Heh.

So you blew Jungkook at his front door in your bra and pants with his clothes half-on and struggling to breathe.

“A-Ah, so s-soft… and so tight… h-how…”

You didn’t speed up. Didn’t put in more force. Used your whole torso, not just your head and neck, to avoid strain, holding his hips to take him deeper but at the same pace, letting the orgasm build with his heart rate, running your thumbs over his balls, a gentle caress, closing your eyes to savor it. Hard and twitching, but you didn’t let him disturb what you had going on, extending out the minutes, saturating every second with flowing, unavoidable bliss.

What?

You could match his vibe with your kind of romance.

You heard Jungkook’s pitch hike and the muscles under your fingers all tensed up. You spared a look upwards, but he wasn’t looking at you, shoving his hands into his messy black hair, displaying his prominent triceps, and moaning to the ceiling, dragging his bangs over his eyes.

“Oh my God, I’m cumming, fuuuuck…!”

You pillowed your tongue around the head and his salty orgasm flooded your mouth, spilling out and down your throat, but you cupped what you could and coated the sensitive head, pleased to hear Jungkook’s shudder and whimper of ecstasy, gripping his hair and pulling. The close-fitted nature of his tank top left nothing to the imagination, the aftershock rippling up his chest, even his hardened nipples poking against the fabric.

You swallowed.

Jungkook moaned and his head fell back again, his eyes probably rolled back.

Gotta finish him off right.

You licked around him carefully, cleaning him off and keeping him hard.

“You…”

Cocked an eyebrow as you shifted your eyes up, his cock buried in your throat, pulsing your muscles around his length. His chin was on his chest, wayward dark curls hanging down, shaking wide eyes watching you with fascination, his shaking voice full of awe.

“You know… how porn calls it a mouth-pussy? I really thought that shit was fake and sounded stupid, but… you have a mouth-pussy.”

You blinked at him and tried not to snort out in laughter.

You just raised both eyebrows and flicked his balls with your tongue. A few seconds later, you pulled back and countered with, “Really? Mouth-pussy? That’s how you show gratitude for the best suck of your life?”

“B-But it’s true!”

You shook you head and waved a hand at him.

“Clothes. Off.”

Every hour, every minute, every second.

Full of sex.

Jungkook wasn’t lying. He wasn’t a virgin. He was a little too good at fingering to be a virgin. Well, you hadn’t had his dick yet but it was pretty obvious with the slow circles on your clit and the kissing of your collarbones. Clothes didn’t even make it to the bedroom. Most of them were left by the door. Your shoulder blades and ass touching the bed, his other hand along your back and tracing your spine as he kissed across your breasts, shyly shifting his gaze back to your face to constantly check if you were enjoying it, not quite confident that he was making your heart flutter. You smirked back at him, taking his hand and pressing his fingers to your wet slit, pushing them in yourself.

He breathed out with you, watching your face as the pleasure snaked out from your core.

Two of them, taking it slow, but you shook your head and pressed his down, your hard nipple against his lips, and he followed your lead, faster, harder, your inner walls clenching around him, sighing deeply as the pleasure flowed, soft licks and tracing tongue. You let him have it, the slower, more romantic pace, spreading your fingers over his sheets and thrusting into his hand, adding to the pleasure, and Jungkook’s eyes glittered, kissing from one nipple to another with a smile.

“Harder?”

“And faster,” you agreed, licking the air between you and him.

Hey, you weren’t a virgin either and you liked it rough.

He kissed you first, entranced by your tongue, harder, faster, your hips following his hand, entangled in this beat, and then it was back to your nipples, kissing sucking, sparks of sensuality over your skin, your hands diving into his hair. Heat. Roughness. Passion, catching your breath and your head falling back, inhaling his scent and the clean sheets, the orgasm flooding through you, delicately forming his name with your lips.

“Ah, Jungkook…”

You didn’t let it stop there though.

His hand moved to pull out and you clutched his wrist and pushed him back in, your nail catching his ring finger, collecting it too, gasping at the added fullness, and you pulled his left hand out from under your back.

Jungkook watched you curiously as your rode his right hand and turned his left, thumb down.

You fitted it around your neck and positioned it correctly, grinning devilishly at him.

He got the hint.

Slightly unsure at first but you built his confidence, comfortably laying back on his bed and spreading out your fingers, moaning softly for him, rocking your hips into his hand, climbing to the high again, stronger his time. His fingers pressed inwards and you breathed out, savoring the choking, the way time slowed down, the way the sensations heightened, your spine arching, low gasp like heavy smoke, immortalizing the moment in his memory, black pupils blown out in those beautiful dark eyes, leaning forward to run his tongue over your nipples.

Your fingers curled into the sheets, thrusting into his fingers harder.

Lids heavy, drowning in the pleasure, his tongue, his hands, the way he looked at you like you were his whole world, the tension between you and him, sweet and intense and overwhelming, just perfect, your exhale only a thin wisp now, closing your eyes and moaning to the ceiling as you came.

It was a hard, thundering pulse, much more powerful than before, your shivering pussy gripping his fingers and your hips bucking. Thighs snapping closed, whining as you felt the hardness of his tattooed forearm, your head snapping to the side the second he released you, the rushing blood knocking you down and making your nerves sing, strong flinches across your arms and torso. Gasping to catch your breath.

Wasn’t his first time choking, but maybe the first time he got really turned on by it, because Jungkook was ogling you like a three-star Michelin meal.

It was like that all night.

From the first time he entered you, one condom wrapper the start of many, biting the left side of his lip and shuddering – “H-How are you so tight…? I just f-fingered you – oooh!” – and you wrapped around him tightly, smirking a little too smugly, one arm around his neck and one leg on his shoulder. Your fingers petaled around the base of his head, cupping him in the flower of your touch. Your thigh against his hard chest still trembling from your kisses. You angled your hips and he slipped in deeper, groaning in disbelief, his brows furrowing at you.

“H-Hey!”

Your tongue pocketed in the side of your smirk and you fucked him right.

“Gah!”

Jungkook, too, fucked you right.

You lead the pace so he could bring the force of his hips. Ah, fuck, right there, like that, and you let him know, the cries tumbling out and mixing with his, rushing wave after wave pressing into you, filling you with his girth and his power. You brought the intensity, the flint to his flame, the break in his pride and Jungkook was looking down at you, shoulders flexed, jaw tight and eyes hazy, clear emotion swirling within them and you saw your own gaze fixated on him, wanting him more than you wanted the sex.

Oh.

Shit.

You gasped and dug your nails into his scalp, grasping the pillow and throwing your head back, not expecting the suddenness of your high, injected into your heartbeat and pushing all the air out of your lungs, veins ablaze with heat as your core clenched, inner walls throbbing all around him. Jungkook groaned, biting his lower lip and thrusting hard, the small mole underneath shaking just as hard as his shoulders, but he couldn’t hold back any longer, squeezing his eyes shut, muffled scream as he came, his head falling back, two tones the start of an ongoing, wanton melody.

“Holy… fuck…”

Well, more like unholy fuck but you didn’t correct him.

You kind of expected him to pull out and leave, but instead his head snapped back and he dived down, catching your lips and dripping sweat on you, making you both laugh. Kiss after kiss, all over your face, and you could barely sputter out – “Oi, you’re sweaty!” – but he didn’t care, kissing all over your cheeks and down your neck, your chest, slurping at your nipples, you narrowed your eyes at that but those playful eyes just sparkled with deviousness, trailing down, down.

Slowing.

Jungkook pressed his lips to your waist, looking up at you.

Your heart thundered against your chest and sparks danced over your skin.

Somehow at ease.

“What?”

You smiled down at him.

“I don’t ever want to leave your side.”

Your lips parted to give him a snappy comeback, yeah, well, I gotta go to work, but nothing came out.

Jungkook grinned, his whole face lighting up and dove between your legs, biting and kissing the inside of your thighs, attacking them with his menacing mouth.

“Hey! Oi! I’m sensitive, f-fuck!”

Even planting a fat wet kiss on your clit for good measure.

“Ah!”

Shoving his tongue in your pussy.

“YO!”

You gawked at his audacity, twisting away from him. Infuriatingly, he followed, scrambling for your ass.

“There was just a condom in there!”

“Ah, who cares,” said the one that clearly didn’t. “Kiss me.”

“Hell no!”

After cleaning up and pinning him down on his own bed and thoroughly scolding him, somehow you ended up making out with Jungkook and his fingers were in your pussy again. It sounded very wet and squishy down there, probably because you showed Jungkook just now much you liked kisses under your earlobe. His tongue against your skin, teeth nicking, sucking hard and making you moan and grind on his hand, pressing against his chest.

“Sit on my face,” he whispered in your ear.

Which was know you ended up grasping his headboard and his tongue between your legs, the piercing pressed against the left side of the outer lips. You kept your weight on your knees, but Jungkook grabbed your ass and tipped your hips at a different angle, your clit right on his tongue, his nose against your crotch.

“Fuuuuck, you smell so good…”

You could barely hear him but you felt him speak, gasping at the strange sensation of hot breath and swiping tongue, his lips wrapping around your most sensitive nerves. He had a much softer tongue, but there was consistency there and plenty of gusto. It helped, actually, to have his hands gripping your thighs, adding the amplifying pleasure of restraint. You rode his face, matching the movement of his tongue. One of your hands left the headboard. Trapped your nipples between your fingers and pulled at them, making Jungkook’s eyes go wide and watch eagerly, licking and sucking harder.

Layered and intricate, full of sensation and emotion, gazing down at him and smirking as the sparks turned into lightning and you soaked his face, shivering, tipping forward at the flinches of climax, swearing under your thin breath, panting, snapped tension draining you and wetly sticking to his lips, his tongue, his cheeks.

He shoved his tongue into your quivering pussy and you sucked in a breath, feeling your inner walls pulsate around his curling muscle, his low, gravelly moan filling what little air there was between his mouth and you, his satisfaction vibrating through your body and mixing with your afterglow.

You slid down his chest and kissed him again, tasting your subtle sweet-sour on his slick lips.

He wanted you to jack him off hard and fast, the fingers of your other hand splayed out over his chest, forgetting about anything else, time only a construct, your phones discarded by the door, and here, in this bed, there was only Jungkook and you, his cock pulsing in your grip, your foxy expression to his desperate one, his eyes rolling back in the intensity, biting down hard on the left side of his lip, the small mole underneath shaking in anticipation, the tendons of his neck popping out.

You raised your free hand and gently stroked his cheek with your knuckle as you punished his cock.

His lower lip popped out of his mouth and he groaned, rough and breathless.

“A-Ah, fuck!”

A hot stream of liquid dripping down the back of your hand, drenching you and him in the strong scent of sex. Thick and potent, and you leaned forward and kissed him deeply, tightly holding his jerking cock and squeezing it all out of him.

“You’re amazing,” Jungkook panted, even after getting up – once again – to attempt to clean up your collective mess.

“Mhm,” you hummed, sitting beside him. He was radiating heat. “I was never worried about that.”

“Hah… You’re… You’re crazy…”

You had obtained your phone and just now sent a message to your boss that you would be taking a sick day on Monday. You have plenty of those. “Speak for yourself.”

“I mean, you’re like… um… uh, oh! A semen demon…”

“What?”

You almost threw your phone in laughter. Actually, you couldn’t even hear Jungkook’s explanation for what the hell he meant by semen demon because you were laughing too hard, barely able to breathe. There wasn’t a normal explanation anyway – how could there be? – and you kept inelegantly snorting afterward at inappropriate times. Jungkook, for his part, seemed proud for making you laugh so much.

“You look so beautiful laughing.”

Your response was quick, immediate, and lighthearted.

“Shut up.”

He snuggled his still too warm head into the crook of your shoulder.

“Will you stay?”

You gave him a look and then showed him the sent text message on your phone. There was something special and perfect about the smile that lit up his face, clearly showing his devotion and clearly seeing yours.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

Jungkook skipped work too. Both of you ended up sleeping in.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook x noona #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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thecoochiefairy · 6 months ago

Text

𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖔𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖊𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖞

━━ 𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑒 .ᐟ toji.

warnings 𑄽𑄺 11.5K word count. toji zenin, married toji, wedding, honeymoon, deflowering, main character is a virgin/celibate, third person omniscient pov, black woman, vaginal penetration, sweet sex, rough + maybe a lil angry sex, lot of sweet talking, hair pulling, squirting, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, condomless sex, kissing, spanking, aggressive toji, lil bit of sweet toji, minors aren’t welcome!

song to play while listening; 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑒𝑒𝑒𝑒𝑒𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑔 ; 𝑟𝑖ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑎

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ idk why i’ve been craving the thought of marriage lately, or maybe just a wedding in general. i just love people in love. enjoy :) 💐

EVERYTHING WAS MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN SHE EVER IMAGINED. Blooming red roses cascaded all around, gold trim wrapping around the flowers. Platters of gold chandeliers filled the brim of the backdrop, soft emerald leaves whisking beneath the baby breath’s. The delicate ivory plants represented sincerity, purity, love.

She stood across from the man she was deadly in love with. His large palm squeezed firmly around her small one, eyes falling to the tattooed rosary that crawled around his fingers, dark crucifix slanting over the veins flexing with each movement he made.

It was every woman’s vision, being able to perfectly create their dream wedding. Her heart was completely filled with love. Her entire family stood in the crowd of people, dark wardrobe to match the wants of her catholic-wedding. Just like a man completely head over heels, she had it her way, no matter what cost.

Toji stared over the woman he was about to marry. Her soft almond shaped eyes that slanted when she smiled, brown irises he could drown in anytime he looked into them. Her dark hair was in a low bun, pulled back to showcase a strident face. Edges curled and styled along her forehead to perfection as it was halfway covered by her large veil. The alabaster lace cascaded all the way out into the bottom step of the stage, showcasing the virgin-mary within the custom design.

Her tawny-brown skin complimented the gold encrusted nose ring, plump bratz-doll lips shining. Her honey freckles spruced all along her nose, traveling out to her cheeks and face, even with makeup. Low eyes were covered by fluffy lash extensions. He loved her with or without her makeup, never seeing another woman more beautiful than her. She was erotically pure to him, completely condescending thoughts, he knew. But that’s exactly how he envisioned her. The corset of her dress clung to her frame, a low dip within the front of the dress that swirls between the heart of her chest, sinking down at the right side of her hip. The construction at the top modestly covered her breast, hugging all around her waist, striking out to the sinful poke of her hips and ass that drips white pearls and gold Swarovski crystals.

She fell out of her trance again, locking her eyes back with the scarily dark steel grey of his pupils. Yet nothing scared her about him—at least, now. When she had first met this man, he was the complete opposite of who stood in front of her. A womanizer, a gambler, all of the worse things a person could think of—an asshole. But Selaphiel was a force to be reckoned with. Her feisty nature and unwavering determination—especially her ‘not for the fuck-shit’ attitude—had inspired Toji to change for the better. He was now a loyal and dedicated fiancée, a far cry from his womanizing and gambling days.

Toji grinned, his grip on her hand tightening. He had never been so happy in his life, not until he met Selaphiel. Her eyes shimmered like the stars, and she had a beauty that could only take one’s breath away. The way her fingers interlocked with his own, the way her lips curled into a smile when she saw him… he knew he was completely enraptured with her. She played no games with him, letting him know from the jump that she had a faithful promise to god, keeping her body for the man she planned to marry. She just didn’t expect that man to be him.

Selaphiel, a name of one of the seven archangels, had grown up in a religious home. It didn’t make her entirely a Bible thumper, having her explorative escapades in college— her parents pulling their hair out at the thought. But as she was now twenty-eight, working towards her doctorate in orthodontics, she wanted nothing more but someone to call her own. Toji was her home if she didn’t have anyone else.

She’d met him while doing her studies in medical school, learning that he was also going for his doctorates to be a Pathologist—studying fluids, tissues, or organs taken from the body after death. He was completely successful within his career, but his personal life was different. She had essentially tied all of his loose ends—she couldn’t disagree that he hadn’t done the same.

But as the pastor strung his voice out to the crowd, Selaphiel’s hand slightly went limp within Toji’s palm, realizing there was something she was afraid of when it came to him. It sounded stupid. Hell, maybe even childish. With her celibacy, it was hard at times to keep from breaking her promise, Toji not only a man, but an experienced one within the bedroom. She could see in that shit-eating grin that he knew could have her at the palm of his hand. She melted by even just a soft kiss on the neck, fingers slamming upon her ass when she walked past him, to the erotic words that fell from his lips.

Yet, Toji respected and valued Selaphiel’s decision to remain celibate until marriage, recognizing it as a personal choice. He had no desire to pressure or rush her into anything. Their relationship focused on building a strong emotional connection, based on trust and respect. But Toji being the man he was, his deep appetite for her had grown stridently in his stomach, animalistic and ready to catch his prey.

“You may kiss your bride,” the pastor then says.

Sela squeals softly as Toji pulls her forward, nearly raising her off of the ground as he pulls her into a deep kiss, tonguing her down irregardless of who watched. Her face goes red as everyone around cheers.

His groomsmen let out a deep howl, her bridesmaids clapping and gleefully smiling, seeing as Selaphiel laughs happily, trying to hold back the sob of joy she wants to let out. She almost breaks as she raises her thumb to Toji’s face, briefly wiping the tear that nearly falls. She knows he’d rather die than show his emotion, her heart swelling as she felt his emotions radiating off of him.

The reception had finally arrived, everyone seated in their assigned chairs, being assisted by the waiters and waitresses that serve the five course meal they have to offer. The first and second course varied from baby kale salad with cherry tomatoes drizzled with honey and avocado dressing, or garden salad with raspberry vinaigrette. The entrées contained Filet Mignon or stuffed chicken breast with pesto cream, desert being vanilla and dark chocolate cake with almond buttercream.

Everyone enjoyed their meals, watching in the middle of the empty floor as the couple stood there for their first dance. Selaphiel’s arms wrapped around his neck, Toji’s palms laid along her hips as she leaned her face against his chest to hear his heartbeat, the both of them sinking into each other as they swayed softly as japanese denim plays. She was glad that everyone was enjoying themselves, but she felt herself slowly just wanting to be alone with him.

She mutters to him, “My social battery is running out.”

Toji’s deep chuckle rumbled against her cheek upon hearing Sela’s comment. He knew how much she valued her alone time. He lowered his head slightly so that he could speak softly in her ear “I understand, baby," he replied affectionately, “How about we step out for some fresh air? You deserve some time to recharge. Get away from our hectic ass families.”

The thought of now being alone with him scared her. She knew at times that he almost lost himself, wanting to have his way with her devilishly. She felt with them officially being married, that urge was now pushed to a thousand.

She shakes her head briefly as she says, “It’s okay. This feels nice. This dress is also tight as hell,” she sighs out.

Toji noticed the slight change in Selaphiel’s demeanor and the hint of fear in her eyes. He knew everything about her. He held her closer, his grip firm yet gentle as they continued to sway to the music.

"You look fuckin’ stunning," Toji rasped, his lips brushing against her ear. "This dress was made to turn heads, damn near makes me wanna break a motherfuckers neck for you. I'll find a way to get you out of this dress as soon as possible if you’re uncomfortable in it.”

She ignores the way her heart drops to her ass at the mention of him, ‘getting her out of the dress.’ She nods her head, raising her eyes up to meet him as she sweetly asks “You love me?” knowing it was a dumb question.

Toji tilted his head, his gaze meeting Selaphiel. A small chuckle escaped his lips before he gently cupped her cheek, his thumb grazing the soft skin.

"Love is too small of a word for what I feel for you," he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity. "You are the air that fills my lungs, the very essence of my existence. There are not enough words in the world to describe my love for you."

“Corny ass.”

“You liked that shit, didn’t you? That was good,” he smirks, bringing his palms down to her ass, groaning lightly as he squeezes the flesh. Selaphiel giggles as he raises her up to where her heels sit atop of his shoes, playfully spinning her around.

They both separated from one another as Toji sat at the table with his groomsmen, it being a long time since they were all together in one room. Some of them already had families, built businesses or worked their way through school. It felt nice to be around his friends considering his actual family wasn’t at his wedding.

“Tell us how long you’ve been holding out for Selaphiel,” one of them asks, holding his beer as he takes a swig of it, the other groomsmen chuckling, patting the shoulder of their nosey friend.

“C’mon man, we’re your bros. You can tell us if you’ve been getting some pussy on the side,” another one says on the other side of the table.

“Nah. Sela got his ass wrapped around her pinky finger, holding on tight!”

“Shitt, damn near the whole hand!”

The entire table uproars in laughter, Toji chuckled softly, a small annoyance creeping at his friends’ teasing comments. He glanced over at Sela as she danced with the flower girl and the rest of her bridesmaids , his eyes lingering on her for a moment.

"For a year and a half" he replied with a shrug. "It took a lot of restraint. But she was worth the damn wait.“

He took a sip from his drink, a small grin playing at the corner of his lips. His friends continued to rib him, but beneath the teasing, there was genuine respect and admiration for his devotion to her decision.

“No pussy pocket? Nothing?”

“Shittt, I’m not that crazy. Lotions and oils have been a good friend to me,” Toji confirms, making them all laugh again.

“I heard her telling one of the bridesmaids that she didn’t know where you were taking her for your honeymoon. You’ gonna keep that secret from your friends, dickhead?” One of his groomsmen asked.

Toji chuckled again, “Keeping that for myself," he said, a hint of pride in his voice. "I want it to be a complete surprise —a special gift just for her. She deserves it."

His friends continued to teasingly nudge him, playful smirks on their faces as they took another sip of their drinks. They knew Toji was completely smitten with Selaphiel and would do anything to make their honeymoon unforgettable.

“Just don’t kill her, alright? You ain’t Edward, and she ain’t Bella,” another one says, the entire table falling out at that poke.

“Call me Toji Cullen then, the hell!” He smacks his teeth, laughing along with them.

Selaphiel comes around the table, waving softly as she then wraps her arms around his shoulders, kissing his neck as she smiles, “Hi, handsome. I miss you. ‘M ready to go,” she muffled along his throat.

She feels a chill go throughout her body as she sees him manspread against the chair, his tie loosened as a few buttons are open down his shirt, briefly showcasing the other tattoos that trace his body. The silver chain around his neck sits beautifully along the skin, his Bulova watch cold along her body as he grabs her throat from above him, pulling her down to hover over his face.

"There you are, my lovely bride," he replied warmly, tilting his head to kiss her chin, “I missed you too. Are you ready to head out?"

“Yes,” her feminine voice says softly, “I wanna be with you.”

Toji's bone straight smirk widened, his eyes holding a tender expression. He gently slipped an arm around her waist, a protective yet affectionate gesture.

"Good," he replied lightly, his voice carrying a hint of desire. "I’m tired of sharing you.”

Selaphiel was finally out of that extremely uncomfortable dress, now wearing a more sultry look. It was purely white, fully laced, long sleeved and clinging to her body. A deep v was within the middle that ever so slightly showcased her nipples. Her veil was much shorter now, small pink bows all around the soft white material. With a farewell to his groomsmen and Selaphiel doing the tradition of throwing her bouquet to her bridesmaids, everyone followed outside, saying their goodbyes and continuously cheering. Toji guided Selaphiel away, a palpable excitement between them as they stepped into their black Aston Martin, speeding off into the night.

When they made it to their destination, they were now parked at a cliff, the car’s window showcasing the lights of the city at night. Toji told her they would sit here for a bit while he got a few last things together for their honeymoon. She wanted to ask a thousand questions, anxious as she had no idea where they were going. But instead, the chaos of their wedding day had brought a wave of exhaustion over her, now comfortable in his shoulder as she sat on top of his lap in the backseat, softly snoring against his shoulder as he scrolled through emails from his job.

She snuggled deeper within his body, Toji immediately adjusting to the movement, his warmth encompassing the natural coldness of her skin. It was a blessing and a curse. In the winter he was her personal heater, but any other time, she would flip him over immediately in the middle of the night, sticking her face directly in the fan across from the bed as she groaned hotly.

“You remember the first time we came up here?” She asks, her voice quiet as she seems to be half asleep.

Toji chuckles, “I always do. You punched me in the balls.”

“You tried to get a feel—for the free, crazy as hell,” she mumbled, “I don’t even want to know how much you spent on this Aston Martin. Just because you have money doesn’t mean you have to spend it all.”

“It wasn’t bad. It was about five—“

“Hundred? That’s not bad—“

“Thousand?”

Her eyes flew open, upper body sitting up as she said, “Toji Zenin. You did not spend five hundred thousand American dollars on renting an Aston Martin!—“

“Woman. I spent five thousand. You know what I’d do with five hundred thousand dollars? Buy like three Aston Martin’s!”

“Don’t be funny. You know I don’t do math,” she glared, “Even that’s still too much!”

He shrugs, switching the topic as he then says, “Speaking of my name…I wanted to talk to you about something.”

She sees his face become serious, sitting upwards to fully face him as she says, “Yeah?”

“I wanted to ask a favor. Do you think I could…take your last name instead of you having mine?”

Selaphiel stares at him, his olive toned skin a cream color within the moonlight. Although she hadn’t spoken on it, the only people that appeared as “family,” at their wedding was his groomsmen. She knew that he didn’t associate with his family. He briefly told her that they were extremely abusive, telling nothing else. They had gotten into a bad argument about his stubbornness before, Selaphiel trying to offer him the word of the Bible about forgiveness. He was always extremely patient and sweet with her, but when it came to his family, that was an argument she was never going to win.

She presses her hand gently along his chin, rubbing her thumb over the scar among his lips. He grimaces slightly, squeezing the skin of her thigh as he slightly moves his face away.

“Of course we can do that.”

“Thank you,” he says, hoping she doesn’t make him push the conversation.

She leans forward, softly capturing his lips within hers, pulling back as she continues to graze her fingers along his face. He takes her wrist, softly kissing her hand, squeezing it within his palm.

“So, are you finally going to tell me where we’re going?” She tilts her head, “I’m gonna start nervously farting if you don’t. I’m extremely anxious.”

Toji laughs, “I was trying to hold out, but…” he lets out a deep breath, “I know I told you I would never go back home. But I remember for one of your assignments you had to do a city you were interested in, and you picked Shibuya, because you wanted to see all the markets, try the food, shit like that.”

Selaphiel’s eyes go slightly wide as she says, “Our honeymoon’s in Tokyo?”

Toji wants to roll his eyes as he says, “Yes, but—“

He groans as she wraps her arms tightly around his neck, pulling him forward as her back is now against the car seat, kissing all over his face and jaw. It had been a dream of hers to visit Japan, even before she’d met him. She told him her dream of going into Tokyo, but he immediately knocked down the idea, telling her it wasn’t a place he planned on going back to. Unfortunately, he loved her too much to not give her something she always wanted.

“No family shit, Sela—“

“I promise,” she nods her head, “I just wanna be there with you. But seriously, how much did you spend?”

“You want me to lie?”

“You’re absolutely terrible.”

“This we all knew.”

Making it to the airport wasn’t the issue for Selaphiel, it was up until they were now on the plane, trapped within the sky and nowhere else to go. Toji knew she was terrified of planes, doing everything to make her as comfortable as possible. He’d even put them in first class, a bed within their section and office table for him to work while she slept. But instead, she balled up within his lap, holding onto him for dear life. He sighed, leaning his head on top of hers as he continued doing his work.

"Baby,” Toji murmured soothingly, “We’re landing in about thirty minutes. We’ll be okay.”

He was the complete opposite of her, enjoying flying in the air. He couldn't help but glance out the window, admiring the view from the plane's height. The vast expanse of the sky with its ever-changing patterns of clouds and the breathtaking landscape below filled his eyes with wonder. When he saw the overview of a place he use to call home, he felt a shift in his chest, not sure if it was nostalgia or the complete opposite.

She was thankful for them to finally land, the chauffeur placing their suitcases within the trunk as they were now making their way through the city. Selaphiel’s eyes didn’t know where to look, almost like a child seeing their favorite show come along the TV, fascinated and unable to pull away. They made it to their hotel, Selaphiel being slightly dragged by Toji’s hand as they made it up to the top floor of the building, a suite larger than she’d ever imagined now in front of her eyes. It was completely spacious, the windows showcasing the high buildings and colorful persuasion of the city, her eyes falling to a large tower not too far from where they stayed. She softly thanked the hotel staff that placed their bags within the room, her feet following her to the window, a warmth in her heart as she still couldn’t believe she was on her dream trip.

She feels arms come around her neck, leaning against her as he speaks within her ear, “You like it?”

“I love it,” she replies, “And I love you.”

“Yeah yeah, you just love me cause I’m your sugar daddy.”

She shrieks as he turns her around, throwing her over his shoulder. The hotel staff stands within the room as he says to him, “I’m apologizing now for future noise complaints you’re gonna receive.”

“Toji!” She giggles embarrassingly, unable to see as he passes the man a tip, closing the door behind himself as he leaves.

The rest of their day had been as interesting as the morning. Traveling all around the city, Selpahiel explored and took photos of anything she saw. It was also fascinating to watch how quickly Toji fell into his traditions. His deep voice switched in and out of his native tongue, speaking in words she didn’t understand yet she was still intrigued. It made her happy to see that he wasn’t repulsed with being here, finding his own way to fall in love with a place he associated with hatred. He was also falling in love with her all over again, her sunny disposition able to bring anyone’s energy up. But with that sunny disposition came a naivety that made him want to bang his head along a wall. Selaphiel stood in a soft green spaghetti strapped dress, a high slit on one leg as she wore sneakers with the look, perfectly sculpted body feverishly moving with each step she made. Even with the dress being flowy all of her curves defined themselves. Her dark curls bounced around her face and makeup, her hand reflexively pulling a stray hair behind her ear as she bent over the railing to stare down at the cherry blossom tree across from her.

He watched as her body aligned smoothly, back curving inwards, hips sinfully poking outwards. The slit in her dress swishes over the back of her thighs, a glimpse of her ass jiggling as she called behind herself, “Baby, look! You see?”

“I see,” he lowly replies, eyes only upon her figure, wondering how she'd look as he took her from behind, ass clapping harshly along his hips.

As they were seated in a restaurant, his mind only became worse. Selaphiel pouted as she adjusted the straps of her dress, “You think I should take them out?”

She refers to the heart shaped nipple piercings she has, the jewelry poking through the thin material of the dress, desperately begging to spring free.

“They’ve been kinda sensitive lately,” she says, Toji wanting to pull his hair out at this point.

“Could be the metal, baby. Your skin is more sensitive to the cheaper silver,” he replies. On the other hand, he was currently imagining her whines as he sucked along her sensitive nipples.

“Probably,” she shrugs, leaning forward as she opens her mouth, “Lemme’ have some of your food. What’d you call it?”

Of course.

He sighs, “Takoyaki.”

This wasn’t necessarily his final strike, but it was just enough. They were in a private indoor pool of the hotel, Toji watching as she absentmindedly paraded around in her baby-phat bikini. The innocent pink along her body is nowhere near as guilty as his thoughts. She was like his own personal bratz doll, her body coming out of the water as she goes to search for her phone on the table, her hair damp as it reaches the end of her back, body dripping to add along his carnal temptations. He wanted to play with her.

They were now back inside of their room, Toji laid across the bed as Selaphiel sprawled along his lap. His fingers were captured in a blunt as he held it between his lips, sucking his teeth as he kept trying to spark his lighter.

“Do I even wanna know how you snuck weed into Tokyo?”

“The safe answer is no,” he mumbles, still focused on sparking his lighter.

“Okay,” she rolls her eyes.

She might’ve come off naive at times, but she wasn’t stupid. She felt in her mind that she was stalling other things newly-wed’s did on their honeymoon. She also knew that smoking was a rarity for Toji, knowing that he only did it to take the edge off. She loved how respectful he was of her wishes, sometimes even going as far as to not touch her without asking. But this was different, their love was sanctioned within her devotion to her religious beliefs, and last time she’d read the Bible, it was now perfectly fine for them to enjoy their intimacy. So what was the issue?

Maybe she was intimidated by him. Or it was the thought of her inexperience compared to all the women he’d slept with, not knowing if she’d be enough for him. Maybe she was just afraid he’d tear her apart. It was that scary glint in his eyes, a lion constantly on the prowl when he stared. At times she couldn’t believe how incredibly attractive he was, even just doing regular things. Like now.

He brings his attention up to her, firmly pulling her downward as he tells her, “Open your mouth.”

She immediately complies. Lightly separating her baby pink lips, he blows the smoke into her mouth, pulling her forward by the back of her neck as he brings his tongue down her throat, drowning her in a ruthless kiss. She feels her heart pumping in her ears as she grips the bottom of his shirt, twisting nervously as he overpowers her, her body hovering beneath his as he dominates the kiss. Her breath hitches along his mouth as she attempts to pull herself back, Toji jerking her closer as he growls, “Don’t run from me.”

Toji holds her by the side of her neck as he briefly pulls their lips away, her pleading whimper inflaming something within his body. His eyes darkened with desire, cupping her face in his hands, his gaze locking into hers with an intensity that made his intentions clear. He was fierce, possessive. His mouth left no doubt as to who she belonged to.

“Baby—I’m uh—I’m hungry,” she then stutters, trying to distract him.

“Me too,” he rasps.

Oh.

He can feel her body now slightly trembling. He slows down his movements, staring at her aura that was shaken by a kiss alone. Her fingers softly press along her lips as her face is a deep shade of red.

“Fuck. My bad, pretty. I just—“ he cuts himself short, gripping her skin tightly to withhold his advances, “You said you were hungry?”

She can barely speak. Her eyes go slightly wide as she feels his bulge below her lap, prominent and hard. Huge, she thinks.

“Use your words, baby,” he encourages.

“Yes,” she then corrects, “I’m craving pasta.”

He tilts his head, lightly grinning at her as he says, “Basic ass pasta in Tokyo?”

She nods her head, trying to be normal with him, her eyes never looking directly into his as she replies, “Please?”

“You’re lucky I love you.”

“You’re lucky to have me,” she retorts.

She comes off of his lap, watching as he re-adjusts himself between his legs before making his way out of the bedroom. She leans back against the pillows for a while. After about twenty minutes of being in her head, it’s like she had finally come up for air, chaotically running her fingers under the blanket as she searches for her phone. Once she finds it, she immediately presses the call button, her ear to the screen as she waits.

Her best friend answers, “Why the fuck are you calling me, Selaphiel? It’s three in the morning in New York. You better be dying.”

“You’re mad yet you still picked up the phone?”

“What do you want?” She speaks in a monotone voice.

“Remember how I said I would call you if I started freaking out?”

“Unfortunately I do.”

“This is me now freaking out.”

“What the hell are you so scared of, Selaphiel? Dick?”

“His, in specific? Yes,” she admits.

“He loved your big headed ass enough to marry you, let’s not forget. He also loved you enough to hold off pussy for an entire year. And a half. Let the man break your vagina so hard that it falls off and creates a new one.”

“You’re not helping!”

Her best friend sighs, “Look. Just channel that inner sex-lioness, okay? The minute you guys start getting hot and heavy, it’ll come out.”

Selaphiel takes a deep breath as she thinks upon those words, realizing she might be being dramatic as she replies, “Okay. Lioness. Grrr,” she quietly growls within the phone.

“Girl,” her friend laughs, “I’m hanging up. You’re not being dramatic though, the man is built like a goddamn gorilla. Scary like one, too. Deuces! Writing a eulogy for your cookie as we speak.”

Her friend hangs up before she can say anything else, Selaphiel’s eyes rising as she sees Toji come back in the room. A curse leaves his lips as he reaches behind himself, pulling his shirt over his head which gives her a full view of his upper body. All of his tattoos were extremely meaningful to him. Dark ink complimented the silver jewlery along his wrists and neck, clinking with each movement he made.

Toji notices her gaze lingering on his exposed physique, a smirk now playing on his lips. He flexed his muscles slightly, a showmanship of his strength and masculinity as he said, “You wanna keep staring or come over here?”

“I just—um, did you hurt yourself?” She tries to find her words, bringing her eyes back down to the bed.

Toji's smirk widened as he noticed the subtle embarrassment in Selaphiel’s voice and the shift in her gaze. He continued to strip off his clothes, responding with a nonchalant shrug, “Got a stain from cooking. Imma’ hop in the shower before I finish,” he explains.

“Oh. Okay,” she nods.

“Wanna come shower with me? I’ll wash your hair,” he offers, “I know you don’t want chlorine sitting in it from the pool earlier.”

This was her chance. Toji was never shy to be fully naked in front of her, but at most she had only stripped down to her underwear to sleep. She knew that being in the shower with him might create an opportunity to pounce, but that wasn’t a bad thing. The longer she stared, the more she craved him. At the same time she wanted to say no based on her nervousness. But this was her husband now. There was no reason to fear it.

Lioness, she thinks of her conversation with her best friend. More like a kitten, she tells herself.

She then says, “Yeah. Sure,” she nods, convincing herself.

Toji's heart fluttered surprisingly at her agreement, his eyes lighting up with desire and affection. He closed the distance between them, gently tilting her chin up with his finger so that their gazes were level.

She nods her head, his grip becoming more firm as she repeats “Yes,” more confident this time as she sees his face.

He led the way to the luxurious ensuite bathroom, his excitement and affection for her palpable in the air between them. Toji closes the door, dimming the brightness to something softer and more ambient.

Her heart pounds within her chest. She kept her eyes down as she began to unravel her bikini top and bottom, the thin material dropping to the floor to reveal her bare body. Dark curls cascade around her, freckles appearing heavily along her face under the faint lights. Toji watched every second of this. He was now able to see every perfect flaw. Tiger stripes along her hips, dimples dented in her thighs, breast full as the jewelry within her areolas shine. Quickly placing her arms over chest, she clasps her hands over her arms, feeling her face completely hot.

He comes beside her, moving her hair behind her neck as he places a kiss along the skin. Selaphiel shivers more than she expected herself to as he says, “I’d kill for you, you know that? You’re fuckin’ gorgeous.”

She keeps her attention to stepping in the shower, the warm water pulling her back to reality as she exhales. Her eyes briefly wash over Toji who removes his bottoms, eyes falling to the third leg that sits in between his original pair. She brings her eyes back up to the shower head. Toji gently stepped into the shower behind Selaphiel, the warm water cascading over their bodies, steam embracing them like a comforting veil. His eyes fixed on her figure, his heart swelling with affection and admiration for his wife. He reached for the body wash, generously applying a small amount onto his hands before softly lathering it along her back and shoulders, savoring the feel of her skin under his calloused fingertips. It was like the first time touching her.

His hands along her bare body made her shudder, skin heating up in a way it hadn’t before. This was different. She was…aroused.

Toji noticed the subtle shudder that ran through her body as his hands traced along her bare skin, sending a wave of warmth and desire through his own veins. A low growl escaped Toji's lips as he pressed his body closer to hers, the heat of the water and the scent of her body wash blending into an intoxicating cocktail. Her hair was darker with water seeping into it, his hand latching around the flattened curls, pulling her along his chest as his lips hovered over her neck.

"You’re like a fuckin’ drug. I can’t resist you,” he whispered huskily in her ear, his breath hot against her flesh.

He twists her around, pressing his hand along the side of her throat to keep her eyes along his. Her nervousness came back out to play, eyes fluttered shut, teeth digging into her lip as she whimpered, “Toji…”

His grip on Selaphiel’s throat tightened gently as she whimpered his name, the sound echoing in his ears like a sultry symphony. His lips brushed against her skin, trailing along the sensitive flesh of her neck with a tantalizing mixture of tenderness and passion.

“Say that shit again,” he whispered into her ear, his voice low and seductive, “I want to hear you say my name, pretty. I want to hear you call out to me.”

His lips along her throat made her entire body inflamed, shakily gripping his arm, “Toji…I…” he had barely done anything, yet her entire body was trembling. The sound of his name on her lips drove his desire to a fever pitch.

“That’s it,” he grunted. His hand moved down to her hips, pulling her closer to him as the heat threatened to consume them both. He captured her lips in a fierce, passionate kiss, his touch gentle yet unmistakably possessive.

“Baby…” she embarrassingly whined, wrapping her arms around his neck, feeling her face becoming completely red.

Toji's heart raced as Selaphiel wrapped her arms around his neck, her voice breaking slightly in her pleading whine. His eyes darkened with desire, and he gently cupped her face in his hands, his gaze having an intensity that made his intentions clear.

"You’re okay,” he whispered softly, his voice filled with devotion and passion. Then, he leaned down, capturing her lips again in another sin ridden kiss.

She whimpered along his mouth, hand coming around the back of his hair as she captured his tongue in between her lips. Her thighs squeezed together as feels herself becoming horny, a newfound feeling that crippled her logic.

Toji's grip tightened in Selaphiel’s hair as she captured his tongue in hers, grunting at her desire to deepen the kiss. He could practically feel the heat between them rising with each passing second. His hands roamed over her bare skin, caressing and exploring every inch of her body, as if trying to etch her form into his memory. And then, with a low growl, he hoisted her up against the shower wall, holding her close to him as if she were the most precious treasure in the universe.

“I…Toji…wait. I don’t wanna…not in here, baby,” she stutters out, feeling her heart speed up as he hoists her against the shower.

He lowly chuckles along her skin. Selaphiel shrieks as he puts all of her weight onto him, carrying her into the bedroom. She couldn’t help the nervous giggle that left her lips, back along the bed as he began kissing her throat. The thought of their bodies wet from the shower hadn’t even crossed their minds. They enjoyed the feverish need for one another, Selaphiels neck stretched back as she raised her hand to his arm, digging her nail into his skin as his lips continued their assault along her throat. It wasn’t until his lips traveled down that she almost ripped his limb completely off.

He flattens his tongue along the jewelry of her nipple, hearing a soft gasp as she jumps. She realizes how good he is with his mouth, her areola being extremely sensitive yet a warm sense of pleasure overcomes her body. She closes her eyes the minute she sees him release her breast with a lewd popping noise, hungrily taking the other nipple into his mouth, growling as he squeezes his hands around her hips that kneel into his touch. His mouth is along her skin with a fierce possessiveness, claiming every inch to show just how badly he wants her.

“Never needed you the way I need you now, baby,” he says against her abdomen.

Selaphiel can only sit halfway up and stare down at his dark eyes, face completely red as she nods her head to mask the embarrassment. Toji watches as her breath hitches, meeting her gaze as he feels the arch within her body, his desire for her growing each passing second. His lips continue their journey down her hips, trailing famished kisses along the skin as he worshiped her body with a passion.

She had no chance to run, hide or even protest as he brought her legs over his shoulders, pulling her down to the edge of the bed as she was now staring at the top of his dark hair, Toji’s tongue making immediate contact with her clit. It was warm within his mouth, his jaw also making contact with the wetness of her arousal. He groaned in a way she hadn’t heard before. She was sweet, but he didn’t expect anything else. Selaphiel gasped loudly, attempting to push him away, the raw need coming from him overpowering everything else. His eyes locked into hers with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

“Toji—oh my god,” she softly cried, her body within a state of shock, unable to handle the thousands of nerve wracking pleasures she feels. He enjoys her. His entire mouth dances along her core as he swirls his lips in a circular motion, dirtily making out with the puff of her sensitive clit.

“Fuckin’ hell, Sela. You taste like goddamn heaven,” he growls against her, pushing his mouth deeper as he dives in and out of her lower lips, spreading her with his tongue as he drops spit against her, a loud slurping sound creating as he nuzzles his head farther into her. His nose is damn near captivated. She attempts to twist her hips out of his hold, Toji smacking his lips as he utters, “Come here,” locking his large palms around her ankles, spreading them from earth to hell as he locks her knees against the sheets.

It seems as if the more she tries to move out of his hold, the more aggressive he becomes. Selaphiel struggles out a cry as she watches his head bob up and down, mouth sliding down to her begging opening, his tongue fitting perfectly inside of her as it shoves in.

He tells her, “Watch me tongue fuck my pussy. You’ll love it.”

She couldn’t believe his words. She tilts her head to stare away, Toji briefly removing his hand from her ankle as he turns her chin back to him.

“Your pussy is so pretty, baby. Look how wet you are. It all feels good. Imma’ make you feel like this all the fuckin’ time,” he promises to her.

“Toji—“

He cuts her off, going back down to her spread legs, locking his arm back around her ankle. He sticks his tongue out, slowly entering it within her squelching hole. Selaphiels body shakes at this, Toji moaning as he slowly removes his mouth from her, doing it in a repetition as he leans down, thrusting it back in. Her eyes watch in horror as a white substance appears on the end of his tongue, her hips trembling as she cries, “Baby, I…no!” She flies her hands over her face.

Toji chuckles darkly, “You can’t be creaming already. You’re too fuckin’ good to me,” he grunts.

The lock on her ankles allows him to move her in a way he wants, grinding her clit along his tongue, coming back down to her trembling opening. It squeezes around his tongue as he kisses within it, stretching her open to prepare her for something bigger. He spread her legs wider, muttering against her body, “I’m gonna stretch your pussy so good, baby. Gotta’ make sure it doesn’t hurt too bad.”

“Toji,” she whimpers, pleading he stops this unruly talk.

He continued his ministries, tongue exploring her in ways she’d never experienced before. He was relentless. He squeezed her ankles, gripping them as he pulled her hips down to slosh against his face, Selaphiels eyes blown with lust as he dragged his lower lip along her clit, trapping it under his mouth as he followed the upper lip behind it.

Toji briefly looks up to see Selaphiel watching him, her eyes rolling blissfully as he continues to pleasure her. The sight only fueled his desire. His grip tightened, his tongue now working with a determined fervor, desperate to draw out anything from her lips.

“Baby…t—this feels so…”

She brings her hand into his hair, tugging lightly at the dark mane. His body was inflamed at the desperate sound of her voice. He leaned into her touch as her nails dug into his scalp, relishing the mix of pleasure and pain that it brought.

He gave her pussy a deep kiss, her vision now becoming teary, the feeling all becoming too much for her. Toji nuzzles his lips against her, kissing her opening again, and again, and again. She went to push his head away when he gripped both of her hands in his, bringing them under the hold he had against her ankles, her upper body now forced to look directly at him from how she was positioned. The sight of her dark curls covering her face as her lip was tucked under her teeth was enough to make him more careless with his movements, sliding his tongue into her hole and rocking her hips forward.

“B—baby, I feel like I h—have to pee…” she whined.

Toji can’t hold back the chuckle that comes from his mouth, sending vibrations up her spine at the rumbling along her clit.

“You’re cumming, baby,” he explains, “Relax. Imma’ eat your pussy until you squirt, that’ll feel better than cumming. Okay?”

To hear him speaking this way, she could barely handle it. She gushes along his face, filling his mouth with the sweet taste he begged more for. Her upper body trembled as she desperately tried not to scream out. His name was the only thing she could remember to say as he moaned against her clit, spanking the side of her leg. Countlessly, endlessly.

Toji maintained his grip along her ankles, French kissing her opening as he drank from her, never wanting her climax to end. He dragged her until her hips were hanging off of the bed, watching as she gasped, quivered and moaned in pleasure.

“What’s happening to me…” she speaks softly, locking her eyes closed.

“You’re experiencing pleasure, baby. Please don’t be embarrassed,” he gruffly tells her, leaning back down as he flattens his tongue against her clit.

He chaotically shakes his head from side to side, a moan startling out of her lips from the movement against her. This had been her first time experiencing an orgasm. She whimpers deeply as she watches her legs tremble. Toji was drunk, unable to stop himself from becoming addicted. His head was swimming, the sound of her moans and fingers entangled in his hair making him more dizzy with need. He wanted her, desperately.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby. You’ okay? I want to give you more,” he coaxes, bringing himself upward to see her expression. Selaphiel turns her face from his, red and flushed. Nonetheless she nods, accepting the kiss he gives her, tasting a foreign sweetness along her lips.

She wraps her arms around his neck as he releases her hands, placing her legs above his shoulders as he now hovers over her. Selaphiels eyes go slightly wide as she looks down, seeing his tip, fat and as pink as his lips. Her eyes run over the scar along his mouth. She brings her hand to his chin, going to touch along the mark, surprised as he embraces his face into her hand. His heart swelled at her touch, coming forward as he captured her lips in his, a kiss so filled with love.

His tip smushes along her clit, bobbing up and down that it causes her hips to jump. Her heart beats in her chest, the pounding of it beaming in her ears. She feels safe with him. The love and passion within his eyes move to a desire and lustful one, his vision watching his tip throb along her clit, spreading her legs wider with his palms. Toji places his forehead against Selaphiels, seeing as she has her teeth dug into her bottom lip. He goes slow—at least he attempts to— pressing her legs back farther as he pushes himself in. His tip becomes swallowed by her, latching onto him as if she’d been waiting a lifetime. Their lips are just barely touching each other’s. Selaphiels mouth slowly gaped open as it felt like a fire had been matched along her lower abdomen. She gasps, jerking under his hold at the intrusion of pain, whimpering as Toji wraps his palms around her wrists, trapping her along the bed.

“Toji,” she softly cried, squeezing her palms under his hold as he sucked the skin of her throat, adjusting her hips to the uncomfortable pain she feels.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry,” he grunts, feeling as she tightens around him.

He brings his lips back over hers, Selaphiel moaning deeply as he spreads her legs wider than before. That moan shuddered out into a cry as a mixture of pleasure sensed over her pain. It was something she’d never felt before, a deep pleasure that felt almost blinding, like her entire body would rapture from it. Toji’s eyes darken as he listened to her moans blend with different feelings, the sensations driving him further into a frenzy of desire.

“You’re taking my shit so well, baby,” his breath is hot against her lips, “Such a fuckin’ big girl.”

His hips rock down to meet the back of her thighs. She feels her eyes slightly watering, rolling to the back of her head as she feels him drop his hips down again. Her mouth falls open as a large wave of pleasure washes over her. She whines out, “Fuck. Fuck, baby.”

“You feel so fuckin’ tight, baby. Let me have more of you,” it’s not really a question as he hovers his large upper body above her, keeping his hips low as he lightly picks up speed. More pleasure comes with each movement, her walls pulling him deeper each time his balls slam along her skin, sticky as she becomes more wet with each stroke.

He slowly removes the grip he had on her wrists, allowing her to bring her hands along his face, her finger tips tracing all along his abdomen. She brings her eyes down, watching as his hips connect with hers, causing her to whimper out.

“Look at that, pretty. ‘Pussy is so perfect…” he says, a low moan falling from his lips. The more she squeezes, the more he’s unable to hold back. He places his hand along her jaw, face right above hers as he grips firmly. Watching Selaphiels reactions only drove Toji’s desires to a new height. He could see the mixture of surprise and arousal within her face from the newfound aggression he carried. It fueled him to be rougher, even more possessive.

“Tell me how you feel,” he commands. Her mouth opens as she can hear their skin slapping together, body shifting each time he strokes. She’s unable to move her face as he keeps his eyes directly on hers.

She whimpers out, “Feels so…fucking good, baby,” to which he cockily replies, “Yeah?” Her moans become louder as he thrusts harder at that.

His expression darkened as Selaphiel talked to him, less shy than before. His grip on her jaw tightened ever so slightly. His voice was low, a velvety growl as he spoke.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he purred, his thumb gently tracing her cheek, “I wanna make you like this all the time. Submissive,” he leaned down, lips brushing against hers before he grunted, “Let me give you all of your dick, baby. Yeah?”

Her mouth never closed, releasing even louder moans as she felt his hips slamming against hers. She went to bring her hand against his hip to slow him down, only making him speed up. She could hear his arrogant chuckle in her ear as she helplessly whined.

“Stop whining. Take it,” he tells her, voice with a dark edge, leaning down as he captures her lips in a dominant kiss.

He has a grip on the side of her throat now. She hesitantly brings her hands to the back of her thighs, whimpering as she spreads her opening for him, watching as his length sinks down inside of her, flushed and veiny as it bruises along her walls.

“S—so good, baby. Yes,” she whimpers out.

The sight of her taking control of her own pleasure, holding herself at his mercy, sends a surge of possessive desire coursing through Toji’s veins. He growled, his grip on her throat growing firm as he stared down at her.

“You’re mine,” he growls, “Every fuckin’ piece of you.”

His grip clasps around her entire throat, upper body hovering over hers as he pulls out, harshly slamming his hips back inside of her. She grips the hand around her throat, cursing each time he bottoms out. Her lower abdomen trembles as he yanks her entire body down to meet his. His eyebrows furrowed as he stared scarily down at her, watching as she fell apart beneath him.

“Baby…I f—feel like I have to pee again,” she mutters, her face hot as she hears Toji darkly chuckle again.

“You’re gonna cum again, baby. Think you’ll squirt on my dick this time?” He asks her, her eyes shutting as she whimpers at his voice.

She pulled him down by the back of his neck, kissing him softly. Her lips trembled against his, moaning out in a way she hadn’t expected herself to. Her mouth then opened as she moaned louder than before, her hand coming over her lips as she tried to quiet herself. Toji moaned into the kiss as he felt her covering her mouth, ripping her hand away as his eyes were completely possessive.

“Don’t hold back your moans, pretty. I wanna see you come apart. You hear me? Speak when you’re spoken to.”

“Yes,” she softly cried, “I—I’m cumming, baby.”

“Show me.”

Another orgasm ripped through her body. She brought her hand to his back, scratching deeply into the skin as she shouted his name. Her entire body exploded in raptures, holding him close to her as she shivered under his hold. He continued to move nonetheless.

“I love you,” she cried, her mouth interrupted by a tender kiss as he grunted, “I love you more, baby. Never loved anyone more than I love you,” he grits his teeth, a moan escaping his mouth as he pulls out of her, cum dripping from his tip and dropping along the bed. Her body still continues to orgasm, feeling as she trembles involuntarily. As she tries to relax beneath him, her breathing slowly becomes steady as he brings his lips over her neck, tickling her with his mouth. She giggles softly, trying to push him off as he holds her down.

She brings her face to his as she asks, “…Did it…feel good for you? I—I know you’ve been with a lot of women—“

“Selaphiel, don’t piss me off in a moment like this,” he snaps at her, “I love you so fuckin’ much. I’m honored to be your first, baby. Wouldn’t have changed it for the world.”

She presses her lips together, keeping her eyes down from his. She feels his hand come to her chin, pulling her up as he states, “I mean it.”

She nods her head, trying to pull herself away from the awkwardness she feels. This was a beautiful moment. She gave herself to the man she trusted wholeheartedly, and she wouldn’t have traded it for the world. She brings her lips up, kissing him passionately.

She then asks quietly, “Am I…pregnant now?”

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~♡

When she wakes up the next morning, she sees that the other side of the bed is empty. Sunlight bursts within the room, the large windows open as she stares over the city of Tokyo, bright and colorful lights blinding her eyes. She slowly sits herself up as the familiar smell of pancakes fill in her nostrils, the sweetness choking her throat. She runs her fingers through her hair as she looks around the room, her eyes meeting with the large silhouette of Toji, his body passing the door frame as he seems to be on the phone. Business, she figured. He winks as he disappears back into the kitchen.

Her mind falls back to the memory of the night before. The moment she thinks about it, she feels that her legs are sore. She brings her fingers up to her lips, remembering his rough kisses. His eyes staring down at her. The way he handled her. She didn’t know what came over here, but she wanted that again.

She quickly showers, debating whether or not to actually put clothes on. She stares at herself. They’d already had sex, this was her husband, why was she still afraid to tell him what she wanted?

It's not like he’d say no. Maybe she was embarrassed, only having sex one time and wanting to be ruined by him the next morning. Was she crazy?

She thought about doing her makeup. Realizing that he’d catch onto her plan, she disses the makeup idea. She allows her hair to fall around her body, her arched eyebrows strikingly dark against her light freckles, brown eyes soft as she stared at herself. She felt…different.

Taking a deep breath, she wraps a towel around her body as she creeps out of the room, making her way into the kitchen as she sees him still on the phone. He holds a bowl as he mixes batter within it, her ears not registering what he says as he speaks in his language.

He notices her, muttering another couple of words before he hangs up the phone, “Shit. Did I wake you up?”

“No,” she shakes her head, “I just smelled you were cooking. How long have you been up?”

He grins at her, “A while. I wanted to wake you up, but you were sleeping like a rock. Must’ve fucked you good, huh?”

Her face goes red, “Don’t be an ass.”

“Just messing with you, baby,” he eyes the towel around her body, seeing her face is red in the cheeks and bare of any flaws, “How did I get so lucky?”

“You must’ve gambled hard for me,” she amusingly replies, sitting herself on the table across from the stove as she watches him.

“Must’ve put my fuckin’ life as collateral,” he agrees.

A newfound feeling of lust had crawled up her spine. It spread like wildfire, furiously making her sick in her entire body. She couldn’t stop thinking of him in that way. She stares at the way his back muscles flex as he continues stirring the bowl. He looks back to her, noticing her state.

“You’re distracting me, pretty. Can’t finish cooking when you’re staring at me like that.”

“Sorry,” she shakes her head, “I just…couldn’t help to watch you.”

She tilts her head, hair falling around her body as it follows her. The minute he turns back towards the stove, Selaphiel releases the hold of the towel she wears, letting it fall along the table. She presses her hair behind her ear as Toji’s eyes capture her bare body, a giggle coming from her lips as he raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t play with me right now, Selaphiel,” his smile drops from his face.

She pouts, “You don’t want to play with me?”

She stands from the table as she comes in front of him, a newfound sense of confidence filling her body. She wants him. Slowly, she keeps her eyes upon his as she lowers herself to the ground, a jolt of surprise and desire coming within him.

“Baby,” his voice speaks lowly, almost like a warning, “What are you doing?”

“I want you in my mouth,” she tells him. A groan drops from his lips as he clutches her hair in his fist, pulling her to where her entire face is shown from below.

“You sure?” His face shows genuine concern.

She nods her head. He then grunts, “Imma’ fuck your throat up.”

He places his thumb on her bottom lip, opening her mouth roughly as he pulls his length from the sweatpants he wears, tip encompassing between her lips as he shoves himself within her throat. In this moment she remembered all of the advice her friends had given her on pleasuring him. Her eyes shut as she tries to focus, fearful that she’d chicken out as he guides her head against his hips, pulling her back and forth by the ponytail he created.

“Your mouth feels fuckin’ amazing, baby. Just like that,” he groans out.

“Fuck my throat, please?” she tells him, not so much asking. Her eyes were big and doe like with an innocence that had him wanting to shout.

“I’ll bruise it,’ he corrects.

She hummed satisfyingly at his words, wrapping her lips tighter around the dark pink flesh, sliding her palm down as she took him deeper down her throat. Her other hand placed on his hip as she pulled him forward, her head rushing back and forth as she twisted her wrist, feeling as saliva pulled between her fingers and the space between her lips. She pulled her mouth away, now only working at him with her hand as she stuck out her tongue, letting spit drag out and fall onto the pre-cum forming against his tip.

Toji couldn’t believe his sight, his innocent woman that went red at a sexual joke was now below him, sucking his dick like she was made to do so. She hungrily took him back into her mouth as she pressed herself down, eyes fluttering up to his completely low ones as she gagged. It was almost effortless to her. He forced himself down her throat, a low moan fleeting from his lips as he collected more of her hair in his fist, fucking her mouth.

Her eyes were teary, throat nearly sore, lips bearing a dark red and all she could focus on was getting him to cum. Making him cum. Hand that was still wrapped around him, she placed it behind her back with the other, her eyes shutting tightly once again and filling her throat until she could barely breathe, nose grazing over the pubic hairs attached to his skin as Sela finally pulled herself back. Toji tightened his lower half, a slew of drool coming from her tongue and lips.

“You’re fuckin’ filthy, baby,” he grits out. Yanking her up, he turns her body around, throwing her upper half along the marble of the table.

His ragged movement causes him to knock the pancake batter along the floor, her chest pressed up against the marble that makes her piercings cold, her body warm as it becomes aroused. He holds both of her wrists with one hand, feeling himself becoming pissed off at her teasing. She giggles at his impatience, keeping her eyes along the table to hide her amusement.

She then gasps softly as he spanks her, clamping her mouth shut as he asks, “What the fuck is so funny?”

She bites her lip to stop her giggling, shaking her head as she doesn’t verbally respond. He keeps his hands wrapped around her fists as he knocks her legs wider with his own, Selaphiel then softly giggling out, “You’re so cute.”

“Cute, huh?”

He takes his other hand to spread her open from behind, Toji seeing the slick arousal shining along her brown skin from the sun beaming in the room. Her body goes into shock as she feels his tip prodding at her opening, sliding himself in slowly. Her mouth drops open as he presses her back inward to perfect her arch, Selaphiel shuddering out a whine as he says, “Look at you. Swallowing every inch of my dick.”

He takes her hair within his fist as he guides her. His other hand stays locked around her wrists, her fingers reaching upward to feel for his arm as her body is trapped under his hold. He pushes in deeper. He then reaches up the front of her, pulling his palm around her mouth as he clasps her voice shut, Selaphiel moaning loudly between his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of her head as he begins snatching her back onto his pelvis.

“Thought I was playing with you, huh?” He talks within her ear, Selaphiel unable to keep up as the heaviness of her ass is clapping along the skin of his hips, her brain now fried and completely empty.

She gasps out between his fingers, “Baby—“

“No. None of that ‘baby’ shit now,” he grunts, taking one of his legs as he lifts it along the marble of the table, giving her a particularly hard thrust that causes her to shout. This was completely different from the night before. He was almost implausible, as if these feelings were deep within him. He was holding them back just for her—but she’d clearly poked the bear.

“Oh…my…fuck…” she cries, groaning at every movement he makes. Her walls feel sensitive, the strokes he gives her are nothing nice. But it all feels so good. She could feel tears blinking within her eyes, thighs trembling dangerously. Toji can’t help but smugly grin behind her, listening to the way she cries out with pleasure, sounds spurring him on with how she reacts to him. It makes him feral.

“You’re gonna’ paint my dick with your cum. You’re so damn pretty. So damn perfect,” he keeps up with his movements, removing his hand from her wrists as he now has both hands wrapped around her mouth, gripping her down, bouncing her along the front of him to where Selaphiel could barely speak. She only nods her head in agreement, eyes still knocking backwards as if she were possessed, moaning aggressively as his abdomen tightened each time he was deep within her.

She feels like she’s going to black out. Even with that thought, her mind swarms for her to keep going. She then takes her hips as she pulls them up, helping as she follows the rhythm of him bringing her back down. She turns her head slightly, seeing the darkness shift in Toji’s eyes.

“Let me fuck you back, baby,” she pleas softly.

He doesn’t release his hands over her mouth, only loosening them to show he wasn’t pulling her down as he murmured, “Go ahead.”

She whimpered as she twisted her hips around, dropping them back against his pelvic, turning to watch his low eyes. Every moan is louder each time their hips connect. Toji groaned as she took control, his grip along her face becoming less heavy as he watched her move against him, body filling with hunger as he listened to her voice grow louder with each smack of their hips.

“Mmm, I got it, baby,” she whimpered out, Toji’s abdomen squeezing at her whiny tone.

“I know,” he rasped, “Squeezing my fuckin’ dick like this.”

She hissed, pushing them away from the table to where she had no support to lean herself on. She bent herself over to where she had her hands locked around her own ankles, Toji taking his dominance back as he tugs her back by her hip, slamming her down along the front of his thighs. Her eyes roll to the back of her head.

His grip on her was strong and possessive, teeth clenched as he slammed her down heavier into his hips, the sound of their bodies connecting filling the air.

“Oh fuuuck,” he groaned, head dropping down to stare at the way her ass clapped against his body, skin shaking within his palm.

The sound of his voice, his pounding deep inside of her was all too much to handle. Her voice was quiet as she creamed along his dick, feeling him even deeper than before from the angle she was now in. She gripped tightly around her ankles, lifting her upper body as she tried to match his rhythm. He slammed in deeper, her body trembling as she felt a rush of pleasure punch her in the gut, realizing she was having another orgasm.

Her idea of moving away from the table failed her as she was now unable to take control, reaching out to move away from him. Unfortunately Toji’s grip of her skin was lethal. He slammed her down onto his hips, her ears only able to hear their skin slapping together. She felt as if she was having an exorcism, eyes swirling to the back of her head as she released a long moan of, “Oooh shittt, baby. You’re so deep.”

He shakes his head, “Nah. Keep cumming.”

She cries out, tears dropping onto the floor as she holds onto herself, messily sobbing out, “Fuck me, baby. Fuck me. Fuck me.”

And he does. She feels him damn near in her stomach as she tries to pull away, his own moans now mingled with hers as his restraint completely faltered. He lifted her up, biting down at the nape of her neck as his other hand was still along her hip, hotly pulling her down, Selaphiels voice going completely dumb as she whined, “Don’t stop. Baby, please. Don’t.”

“Look at my little crybaby,” he coos, hand now along the skin of her throat as he tugs her down, chuckling darkly in her ear, “This is your dick, baby. Stop running from it.”

“I’m gonna cum on my dick, baby,” she cries harshly. He replies, “Yeah? Show me again.”

Her stomach dropped as her orgasm released through her, shivering chaotically as Toji pulled her neck back, watching her face blown with pure lust, falling apart in shambles all because of him. She loved him, wanting every single part he had to give. Even this one. He kissed her roughly, tonguing her down the same way he had the moment they were officially married. Even in an erotic moment, their love for one another never dissipated.

He held her as he felt her body relax within his hold, her mouth panting out against his as she held him close, eyes shut as she felt her face go red. She wished she could stop that.

“You’re a bastard,” she croaked.

Toji couldn’t help but smirk knowingly, “Damn right. But I’m your bastard.”

#toji x black character #toji zenin #toji imagine #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji fluff #toji #black characters #black authors #black fanfic writer #toji fushigro x reader

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trashmouth-richie · 4 months ago

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dulcis ut rosa { sweet as a rose 🥀}

part 1 1/2– dulex (the gnat🥀) pt ii: vitiosus + deliciosus

pt iii: frangere me 🥀pt iv: ad caelum vel infernum, tecum sum

emperor Geta x female servant reader || word count: 4.4k || smidge of caracalla x reader

summary: brought to Palatine Hill as a gift from your village to the new Emperors— Caracalla claims you as his own, but Geta has his own plans for you when the moon crests into the sky.

tw: anal, p in v, rough inexperienced sex, oral m receiving, use of the word whore, caracalla is a whiny bitch, geta is fuckboy of the era. i googled a majority of the historical events, timelines, roman names for things, and latin translation— if it’s wrong, oh well. bad at feelings! geta, insane! crybaby! caracalla. idk geta is an unhinged mother fucker but what if he wasn’t so bad?

It had been months and many cycles of the moon ago when you were sent as a token of goodwill, a gift to the new Emperors in exchange for peace for the small village you resided in.

Other Virgines and yourself were taken in the dark ebony of twilight, shackled side by side into the wobbly wagon driven by the village's strongest oxen. You didn’t dare object, instead you held your chin high, awaiting fate as the cart swayed this way and that, heart racing and blood pulsing as your journey to the Palatine Hill began.

Some nights were still spent awake, remembering the crippling fear in your chest as you watched women from your village being gifted to generals as their personal servants.

Some were given to soldiers as a sense of “release.” No better than a common whore being passed from soldier to soldier, fitting their needs. The others were pillaged and picked like grapes from a cluster— and finally you had stood alone, defiance pooling in your eyes, pushing back traitorous tears.

Emperors Geta and Caracalla sat on ruby and gold twin thrones, identical in size and power. The tension between them was palpable— so thick you could reach out and stroke its ugly head. Where Caracalla’s grin was full of mischief, Geta had a snarl curled on his upper lip.

You should have known then. The difference between them.

From where you stood, Geta’s dark eyes looked empty. Every so often they twitched as he spun the rings adorned on his left hand. His eyes rolled when his older brother giggled as the gifts from whatever poor village gave away their ripe, untouched women.

Bare toes standing on the marble floor— unable to even grab shoes before you were heaved into the cart— you felt a heat from dark eyes that you were certain would drive someone mad if they dared look back. Like the boiling flames from hell itself were simmering in the coal of his irises.

Caracalla jumped up, stepping forward from his throne, a wicked sense of evilness piercing from the iciness of his stare. His golden tooth caught the sun’s rays and you nearly vomited as he strode forward, eyeing you like a meal.

A feminine laugh bubbled from his throat, he clasped his hands together, bangles clanking in a sick harmony, a childlike grin spread on his pale face, “she’ll do.”

You remember the first night in his chambers. Caracalla himself was bathed in ivory, same as the stone walls that were covered with flowing draperies. Although it was meant to be beautiful, the air felt choked, tight in your chest as you tried like hell to calm your frazzled nerves.

The same giggle you heard in the throne room all morning now reverberated off the walls. He sat on a chaise lounge in only his dressing robes, sweat dampening his temples, that same damning stare as he slid his tongue over that disgusting gold tooth. Was he nervous? Drunk?

You had thought an emperor of his caliber would be used to this sort of thing. Maybe not.

You had been cleaned by the palace servants, hair untangled and dirt scrubbed from under your nails. Hints of jasmine and honey perfumed from your gown as you tiptoed toward him. You watched as beads of sweat trickled down his brow, and he wiped at them hastily.

“Sit.”

The singular word seemed to give him trouble, as if he had never been in the presence of a woman before.

He was clumsy, unthreading your gown with clammy hands, dragging across your skin like a damp sponge. Your skin crawled under his touch.

His lips were stained with wine, thin and shriveled as he pecked at your skin. When you reached for him, hurrying this task along, he recoiled from your hand, shaking his head, a pained expression on his face as he held your wrist in a death grip.

His eyes squinted shut and he screamed for you to leave. “Out!” “Get out!” Chalices and gold cutlery were tossed in your direction as you sprang for the door.

Throwing open the heavy wood and running smack into the bare chest of the other Emperor. Emperor Geta.

Although younger, he was taller than Caracalla. His chest was more broad, shoulders stretched tight with muscles. The same death-like stare on his face as he shoved you from him, having you stumble onto the stones into a wall. The cords of his neck strained as he took in your appearance.

He didn’t soften his features as you peered up at him with a fear stricken expression. He snarled, flaring his nostrils at the pathetic look of you, practically in rags.

“Ah, and what do we have here? My brother’s whore in tears outside his chamber door. Can’t say I'm the least bit surprised.” He leaned into you, his eyes burning into your skin as he ripped the last of your gown to the floor, leaving you naked before him.

“Tasteful thing, aren't you?” he gloated, pinching your bare nipple between his thumb and forefinger, laughing when you yelped in surprise and tried to cover your decency.

He crowded into you, pushing your further down the hall way until you reached a dead end, his groin pressed into your middle.

“Pathetic.” he sneered, enunciating every syllable the word held. “Every single one of you.” His voice slithered like a snake against your ear, his breathing was forced, almost erratic and strained like he was holding himself back from bashing your skull into the wall.

“Brought in here like some glorious stuffed hog on a spicket, trying to impress the Emperors so your village would be overlooked..” he clicked his tongue and grabbed the nape of your neck, his mouth only an inch from your own, “I don’t miss anything. Even though my sniffling brother may, I do not.”

“Emperor, please.”

“Do not speak!” he shouted loud enough to wake the entire palace, the veins in his neck stood at attention, throbbing, “a whore will never open her mouth to me unless asked, or you are given something to fill it— understood?”

You nodded feebly, a single tear trickling down your cheek. Geta placed the tip of his tongue to your skin catching the salty wetness, “if you can not please my brother, you will please me… otherwise what good are you here?”

He shoved you to your knees, bits of sand biting into your skin as you hit the ground with a thud. His eyes were ablaze as he pulled out his cock. Veiny and impossibly thick, you’d never imagined one to be so large.

Geta stroked himself, already hard and velvet beneath his palm, “open for your Emperor,” he demanded, the same snarl on his lip you noticed earlier today.

You did as you were told, tongue out mouth agape waiting for him to slide against your mouth. Forcing himself inside, he filled it full until the pink head slithered into your throat, his groans vibrating through your bones.

He rocked his hips into your face, panting and groaning some more as you gagged on his length— spit dripping down your bare chest and down his sack.

He spoke nonsense to himself as you tried to breathe, squinting out tears from your eyes as you peered up at him. “The virgin mouth is fuck, yes, too good… impossibly sweet, untouched by another man, fuck, never get enough.”

His large fist gripped your hair, pulling at the root as he bludgeoned himself further into you, fucking your head into the wall surely to leave a bruise or knock you unconscious, he wouldn’t care either way.

“Stupid sniffling Caracalla,” he choked out between thrusts, “incompetent bastard wouldn’t know what to do with a whore if one fell on his cock,” he laughed and scrubbed at his face, reaching with his free hand to press the column of your throat, feeling himself deep beneath his thumb, “lucky for you, I do.”

He came then, loud and shaky, holding you to him until your nose was tickled by his patch of dark pubic hair. He pulled out, leaving a pearl against his slit to rub against your mouth.

“You might belong to Caracalla, but you will bow to me, and you… my sweet rosa, I have plans for you.”

And that was how it started, how every night you would meet with Caracalla only to be summoned by Geta in the corridor upon your dismissal. Spilling secrets of his brother before pleasuring him with your mouth.

In the light of day, you were ignored by him as you catered to Caracalla’s beck and call, and you often wondered if Geta had another servant he preferred during the sunlight hours.

You were a midnight affair, a servant to one Emperor, a secret to the other. Caracalla was a strange man. Your time with him mostly was spent with him whining about the day's woes.

How hard it was to be an emperor, the many expectations he had, the palace wasn’t large enough, his brother was too mean. Night by night his paranoia spread like wildfire, and he became gaunt, refusing to eat thinking Geta poisoned his food, his cheeks began to hallow.

During all those nights he never once gave in to his own sexual temptations, he laid his head in your lap like an infant, whimpering and sniveling. One particular warm night you were sitting on his bed as you did every night before, listening to him sob about his mother and how he felt her attention was elsewhere.

It took a single second of you being unresponsive for his switch to flip. Caracalla raged, flipping over furniture, ripping his draperies from the walls and pulling at his own hair. You were terrified, scared of him for the first time since the night you came to the palace.

Caracalla bound your wrists above your head, and took force between your legs as you silently let him, disassociating from the entire situation, as he kissed a bruise to your collarbone, and scratched your thighs with his bitten fingernails. His inexperience was evident in his approach, in the way his hips held no rhythm, in the way he screeched like a midnight owl when he was close to release.

He repeated the same thing over and over until he spilled against your stomach, a plea to either himself or to the Gods above, I am worthy.

You shook violently, not with pleasure but with fear. You had thought of spitting in his face, but realized death would be your only future if you were to humiliate him during this catastrophic performance of what he would assume to be lust.

Caracalla finished with a sweaty brow, laying down to fall asleep like a babe, an arm wrapped around your middle. A gaudy rouge colored his pale cheeks as drool slipped from his lips.

You felt sick, defiled and disgusting.

You’d rather be fucked by thirty men at once than have to endure that pathetic, cry baby fit from Caracalla. Gently placing his arm on the pillow, you fled.

Missing your village, your family, the man who you were supposed to marry someday, your tears clouded your vision down the winding corridors of the palace. You would have fought to stay behind, should have pleaded to the men that you could be useful to them. This whore’s life isn’t what you had bargained for, death would be swifter— easier than this.

The sweet scent of the balneum made you take a detour to the right, and you sobbed upon seeing the moonlight glint across the soft bathing water.

Desperate to scrub his filth from your skin, the water was barely warm but you couldn’t care less as you sunk deep into the marble stone basin. Scrubbing your skin with anything your fingers could get ahold of. The jasmine soaps the servants washed you with the first time was tucked into its cradle and you slathered until your skin shined like an apparition.

Tears dropped from the apples of your cheeks hitting the massive pool like a rainstorm over the ocean. Caracalla was a coward, a nuisance to Rome, to the Gods themselves. You damned his name as you scrubbed and lathered, repeating feverishly.

For how long Geta stood in the doorway, you weren’t sure. You weren’t where you should have been, and he was irate upon your absolute disrespect of his time. He wanted to shout, plunge his way into the water and drag you out by your hair, bring you to the coliseum and make everyone watch your death against whatever animal he saw fit.

You broke his rules, his laws, his heart raced with anger at the sight of you casually washing yourself. Nobody in the palace bathed in the moonlight, and when he heard commotion from the tepidarium room, he stomped towards it to find whoever the culprit was idiotic enough to disobey. He was alarmed to find you in there. Frantic, shooken up, no doubt from the hands of his flaccid brother.

“The lamb strayed away from the flock, I see.” his voice was like a snake, cool and calm but dripping with acidity that could kill at any given time. Jumping at his voice you nearly shrieked at his sudden appearance.

“The moon has passed the mountains, yet you do not seek me out? Instead I find you here, helping yourself to the royal bathing quarters, as if you deserve such luxuries.”

Your voice trembled, as you climbed from the water, “I wanted… I needed to be clean.”

His eyebrows twisted inward, confusion riddling his features until he stepped further into the room and noticed the marks across your skin. Caracalla’s mark. The marks of an hungry, untrained runt, trying to prove himself to the litter.

Geta’s face boiled with sadistic rage as his eyes scanned down your body, the scratches of an novice beast unable to pleasure a whore. Bruises from a limp man who deserved a knife to his throat.

“Come.” he demanded, not waiting for you to follow as his stalked from the room, tossing a long cloth behind him to your awaiting hands.

—

Water trickled behind you and down the length of your body as you padded on bare feet to catch up with Geta.

This part of the palace was foreign to you, a set of stairs leading to a dark tower that you didn’t know existed, and then you realized why. He was leading you up to his chambers.

Geta and Caracalla lived on opposite ends of the palace, their hatred splitting them apart as far as it could allow.

He thrust open a concealed door and stomped down a few stone stairs leading into his chamber.

It was decorated in hues of deep ruby and scarlets, black linens flanked his walls. His bed was massive, alluring in the dark majesty of its presence. A single candle flickered beside his bed, casting shadows in the deep night.

His hooded eyes seemed to strike with a ripple of psychotic light when he came back to the doorway to pull you inside by your wrist.

Sitting on a lavish wooden chair he leans back, spreading his legs wide, reaching for a wine filled chalice downing it in one gulp, his eyes never leaving you.

“Let me make myself clear,” he stated, “I do not care what Caracalla does in his chambers I never have nor will I now.”

Geta wiped at his chin and set down the glass, his finger rounding the rim, “You came here knowing what your life would hold as an Emperor’s servant or a soldier’s fuck sack. The little amount of freedom you were once born with has vanished, and what a pity that must be…but quite honestly,” he gleamed leaning forward his face warmed by the light, casting shadows of evil on his brows, “I am not a savior to the fucked raw whores of this palace who weep after fulfilling their master’s needs.”

Your eyes casted downward at the patterned marble floor. “I told you the night we met that if you aren’t pleasing my brother or myself, you have no purpose here, did I not?”

Your head shook up and down, knowing every word he said was true.

“I will grant you gratitude where it is due by saying that you have done everything I have asked of you, sharing my brother’s secrets, using your mouth to fill my needs— it is all very pleasing…”

For the first time you look into Geta’s eyes, the shadows inside flicker with the candle light, and you are drawn to them like a moth.

“… however, I find myself enraged thinking of that shriveled weasel dick not taking you to bed in a proper manner. It is not my style to fuck like a lover would—I use women to my needs and that’s it.”

He rubs his jaw, as if the stubble was itching him, suddenly stopping to look at you dead in the eyes as his narrowed to slits, “but you, are a gnat. An annoyance I can not seem to get rid of, and I can’t decide if you are a woman version of the plague or something else…” His eyes glimmer for a second before he shakes his head to clear his mind, “Get on the bed.”

“Emperor?”

His voice boomed as he slammed down his cup, “do not make me say it twice, I find myself to be quite angry when I have to repeat my words.” His throat pulsed in wrath, and his knuckles turned white from his fists being clenched.

You do as you're told, gingerly making your way to the enormous frame and mattress, sitting rigidly. Geta undresses himself, standing bare before you, that glorious length springing freely.

“The difference between Caracalla and myself, is I know how to use my God bless-ed cock to pleasure a woman, and I’m damn good at it.”

He’s on you in a flash, his breath sweet from the wine he had consumed. His body was solid on top of yours, pale skin never exposed to the sun. Enormous shoulders dressed in muscles that were hidden with robes daily. He sniffs loud, taking in your scent you feel his body shiver above you.

His teeth nip at your earlobe, piercing through the flesh releasing a trail of hot blood onto your neck. It’s swiftly lapped away by his tongue, a low groan following as he tastes you.

“If your blood is this sweet I would hate to know how you taste between your legs.”

You squirm beneath him as he bites your lip the same way, his canines piercing your plushy flesh and he moves his mouth over the bites, enjoying the iron-like taste. A flood of wetness rushes to your core and you suddenly feel hot everywhere… something Geta doesn’t miss.

“My brother’s whore is quick to becoming wet.” he says with a chuckle, sweeping his fingers between your folds, his rings collecting your arousal on his knuckles before he pulls them into his mouth, “mmmm leave it to Caracalla to fuck a bitch when she’s drier than a well.”

His mouth assaults your neck. Sweeping circling as he groans into you, his cock rutting against your sex as you pull him further into you, a hand coiled in his golden hair, yanking slightly, a traitorous moan escaping his lips.

Your hips widen to try to sneak the tip of him into your cunt but he only laughs at your attempt.

“Look how desperate you are, pathetic thing… so eager to be filled by a man who knows how to fuck.” He groans when your nails scratch down his back, and he licks his lip to not get too carried away.

That pitiful excuse for a human couldn’t satisfy his own hand, let alone a whore who begs to be brutalized.” You moan his name when he skims blunt nails around the peaks of your nipples, running his palms along your rib cage.

“You're teasing me, Emperor, te necessito.”

The snarl that seems to be a permanent fixture on his face curls on his lip, “begging is a good start, we both know how good you are on your knees, but I like the pity showing in your eyes, as if I’m your God.”

With that final word and title, Geta thrust himself into you, shredding your walls with each delicious inch of his cock buried inside of you. All breath is expunged from your lungs as you stare into the devil��s eyes, a chokehold to your own.

“Ora pro me, Deus meus, pray for me God,” he grunted as he pistoned back into your heat. Your screams filled his chambers, the tower shaking with seduction as he matched your shouts with grunts and moans of his own.

He pawed at your tits, squeezing and claiming every inch of skin he could get his hands on. Your thighs were wrapped around his waist, your hips circling to meet his rhythms. A large hand wrapped tight around your throat, and you licked your lips letting a grin spread against them.

Geta was leaned forward just enough for you to put a hand against his own throat, squeezing as tightly as you could. He wasn’t expecting this, wasn’t expecting someone to match his own sadistic fantasies.. let alone a commoner from a village he didn’t care to know the name of.

His eyes embellished like a dark jewel in a burning hell before he snarled and backhanded your cheek. He had never been more turned on, practically fucking you stupid as the welts from his rings raised on your skin.

“Puella pulchra, pretty girl,” Geta whispered into your ear after flipping you over, his cock wedged between your ass cheeks. “Mea es, mea es, you’re mine; no one else’s.”

His rings bit at your sides as he positioned your ass upwards, leaving his dental records in each cheek before slapping them hard in unison, mocking your yelp as he dribbled spit where he needed it to be.

With no warning he entered your other hole at a bruising pace. You saw black when Geta bottomed out and you swore you were near passing out from the stretch of his giant cock stuffed tight inside of you.

Your pussy throbbed to his commands as he pulled you by your neck with one hand, so your back was leaned against his chest. Thick fingers slotted themselves in the heat of your core until his rings were nestled against your clit. “How dare you let Caracalla have at you first, this cunt is too sweet, too sinful to not be mine.”

Babbling along to everything he said you simply screamed yes over and over, as your head lolled back on his shoulder. You came so hot and bound tight that it flooded his fingers and spread down your legs as he kept pounding inside of you.

“Oh fuck,” Geta grunted, shoving your forward to gain leverage on your hips as he pistoned into you a final time. A great yell breached his throat as his seed flooded your ass, filling it full and spilling over both himself and you, down to the laundered sheets.

You collapsed onto his bed, legs shaking and quaking struggling to catch your breath. Geta fell onto his back beside you, his skin glistening with sweat, his release coated thickly on his softening cock and pasted into the curly hair.

“Dulcis ut rosa,” he murmured with his eyes closed, licking his lips to savor your taste once more.

Tumbling on shaky knees, you lift yourself up just enough to eye his length, wrapping your mouth around his cock, sucking off his spend and yourself from him. Moaning as you devoured him.

He hissed at the contact, reaching out to stroke your cheek with his thumb “you’ve made a fool of me, you wicked thing, I’m nothing but a fool.”

When you were finished, Geta laid in silence beside you. His thumb strumming along his torso his eyes wide staring into the ceiling, deep in thought.

Noticing a decanter of wine you asked if he’d like another glass. “No,” he said, still staring upward, unable to look at you. “I’m tired, leave me now.”

Removing yourself from the bed you find the dressing robe he was wearing when he found you in the bath and slipped it over your shoulders.

Leaving his chambers left you feeling rotten.

It was strange how he looked at you during and after, he was talented just as he said he was, and you knew you’d never forget the night the other Emperor bed you in his sheets. For tomorrow was another day, back to Caracalla and his blubbering whines of the hardships of royalty.

Geta lie awake for hours. Eventually seeking refuge on his balcony staring into the pale ivory moon, silently asking the Gods for answers he himself didn’t know. He had bedded hundreds of women. Every shape, size and color. But you. The little gnat. You had been buzzing in his ears every night since you had gotten to Palatine Hill.

Since the day he laid his eyes on you and scoffed to try to denounce his admiration, Geta silently wished death on Caracalla when he claimed you as his own. His original plan was to spoil the apple from the inside out, use you as a spy to gain information about his deranged brother— but it became more to him, you became more. But why?

The God’s didn’t have the answers tonight, just like they hadn’t the night before, or every dawn since the night you showed up here. Guilt struck him like a bolt from Jupiter’s mighty hand and he pushed it down with the remaining wine he had stashed beside his bed.

The facaded mask he wore these days almost slipped off tonight when you lay beside him. How he wanted to reach out and touch your skin while you laid in euphoric bliss. And he shut you out to avoid something he couldn’t risk. He didn’t know how to love a woman, his love was for war and power, blood and gold— still the gnat buzzed, unrelentless.

Laying in the sex sodden sheets, he knew what his dream would be of tonight. It hadn’t changed in the months of you arriving here: Caracalla dead by his hand, and you, the gnat, sweet as a rose…his empress.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

latin translation:

virgines— virgins

dulcis ut rosa— sweet as a rose

balneum— bathing room

te necessito— i need you

ora pro me deus meus— pray for me my God

puella pulchra— pretty girl

mea es— you’re mine

tagging some moots: @joejoequinnquinn @choke-me-eddie @etherealxwitch

#joseph quinn #gladiator 2 #emperor geta #emperor geta x reader smut #geta #emperor geta x reader #geta x reader #geta smut #emperor geta smut #emperor geta fanfic #geta fanfic #gladiator ii

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sonolynn · 4 months ago

Text

A Fools Game

request | would love to see your take on Aemond feeling like a fool. Aemond thinks he charmed someone all on his own, only to find out they were pressured into pursuing him by a power-hungry family member, much like Alicent with Viscerys 👀

summary | Aemond thought you loved him.

paring | Aemond x Fem!Reader

tags | swearing, unrequited love, arranged marriage, hurt no comfort, angst, miscommunication kinda, not proof read.

w.c | 1.3k

note(s) | I love angst. I love angst so much.

____________________________________________

Aemond loved you. Whole heartedly he loved you. He never thought himself capable of love or being loved, but somehow you changed that; changed his way of thinking and his way of everyday life. He didn’t like it, at first. He thought at first that this new way of life that was instructed by you was something to feel scared about, or to fear. It wasn’t until he got to know you-truly know you-that he found himself drowning in what it was like to love you.

While he was courting you it felt surreal. He had charmed his way into your heart and your affections with all but simple words and small touches. He thought himself to be a human for once. Not a mindless sword for the crown but a human-perhaps even a boy.

When he asked you to marry him he thought you would say yes immediately, but when you said you needed to think he felt a little bit of his resolve crumble away and fill with anxiety.

____________________________________________

“He asked me if I should marry him.” You told Queen Alicent. The queen nodded at your words, pacing back and forth in front of the fire. Your family had been a vital part of the crown’s court for generations. Your father had gifted the crown lots of gold, and even more weapons and military assistance with what you could spare. More times than you could count your father had saved King Viserys’ ass.

Hence why now, the queen was pressuring you into marrying her son. A marriage between the great Targaryen’s and your house would surely be prosperous for both sides.

“And you said yes?” Alicent asked. You had always felt the pressure to say yes to anything the prince had asked you; You did not find him scary, or intimidating as most did, but you didn’t know if you could love him like how he seemed to love you, at least, not with the pressures of his family.

“I told him that I would think about it, your grace.” At your words Alicent stopped and she turned back to you.

“Think about it?”

“Yes, your grace-”

“You will say yes.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and nodded slowly. You knew that this was coming, you knew that you had no choice in the outcome of your own life. You were born into this, being the firstborn daughter of your family and all. From the minute the maester declared your gender you no longer had a choice in what you would choose to do in your life. Your decisions, your actions and your fate all rested in the hands of powerful men and women.

So, when Alicent told you that you would say yes to the prince, you only nodded softly and went on your way. A pain in your chest that you couldn’t yet seem to pinpoint.

____________________________________________

When the day finally came for the wedding the whole keep was a bustle. Servants ran around, preparing the decorations and the food and almost everything. You, however, sat in your chambers, staring at yourself in the mirror as the servant behind you did your hair.

Aemond found himself excited, marrying the girl-no, women-that he had fallen in love with made his head spin and his heart burn in anticipation to see you in your white dress.

You, however, didn’t recognize yourself, decorated in gold and ivory like a doll for Alicent Hightower to play with. Your hair had adjournments and jewels that you had never seen before, and your dress was starting to feel too tight. You quickly stood from your seat, and you walked to Alicent’s chambers.

The minute you got to Alicent’s room, seeing her sit in her chair as a servant did her hair, you felt a wave of anxiety wash over you. If you backed out now surely your father would hate you for it…But you were done looking out for others.

“I can’t marry the prince.” You spoke quietly, but Alicent heard you. She stood slowly, pushing the servant back a little.

“You are just nervous. You shouldn’t say such things-” “The only thing that I am nervous about is being thrown into a loveless marriage! I cannot marry the prince lest I drive myself insane!” Alicent paused, and she gave you a look; a warning look. But you ignored the look, only to continue talking. “I have never looked out for myself. Not truly. But for once I wish to be able to make my own decision without that of a higher power!”

You watched Alicent’s eyes drift from your eyes to behind you, and her breath caught in her throat.

“Aemond.”

You froze as she spoke the name, and you turned quickly, only to be faced with that of the young prince. Your heart broke, something you didn’t know it could do for the prince. You watched his wide eye, his soft frown as he stared down at you.

“My mother forced you to do this?” He spoke carefully, his voice slightly wavering. You watched, as the last bit of excitement in the prince's eyes drained out into something more; hurt and betrayal.

“M-My prince-” You went to speak, but Aemond quickly turned, his hair falling over his shoulder blades as he rushed out of the room. You sighed heavily and followed him, calling out his name.

As he descended down the stairs, you quickly picked up your dress and ran after him.

“Aemond, wait! Please! You do not understand-”

“I understand enough!” His voice was loud, he was truly yelling, which caused you to stop and stare down at him. His one eye was slightly red, and his jaw was clenched.

“Aemond-”

“I understand. I understand that my mother is a two tongued cunt who forces others to bend at her will. But I did not expect you to be so easily pliable.” Your face hardened at that, and you glared at him.

“How is it that when looking out for myself, I become pliable! I wish to live a life in which I do not have my decisions made for me-”

“You could have had that with me!” Aemond spoke frantically, looking up at you with soft eyes as his voice tore between the lines of hurt and fury. “I would have loved and cherished you with everything I had!”

You scoffed. “Loved? When does love ever come out of a political marriage?”

“Political?” His face softened into confusion and he looked up at you, his eye tracing over your face in disbelief. You looked at him with the same amount of confusion.

“This marriage. It is political.”

“No. No, this marriage is because I find my heart at your feet.” You stopped at his words, staring at him with an expression slowly turning into that of shock.

“You care for me?”

“No, I fucking love you!” He stares for a moment longer, before he speaks again. “But now I see what it truly is. Forgive me, my lady.” He gave you a quick nod of his head before he turned and returned to his descent down the stairs. You stood frozen, looking at his back as tears formed in your eyes. You knew this wedding would go on no matter what happened, but this complicated things, so many things.

As Aemond walked away he felt his heart beating faster. How could he not hate? Why, out of all of this new found hurt did he still feel a connection towards you?

He wished to scream, he wished to punch the walls until his knuckles went raw and bloody. He wanted to do so many things but he seemed paralyzed to action as your words rang through his head. You never wished to marry him, you wished to please his mother. Gods did he feel like a fool.

A mistake he vowed he’d never make again.

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robinsfilm · 1 day ago

Text

ROUGE IN HIS HANDS

PARING: jason todd ✗ fem!reader ;

SYNOPSIS: jason 'n reader dance at a gala (result from voting) ;

RATING: smut with fluff ;

WARNINGS: clothed sex, p in v, oral fem receiving, oral sex, reader and jay have an obvious oral fixation in this, cum eating, public sex, switch characters, mutual orgasm ;

WORD COUNT: 3.3k ;

NOTES: i went off with this one. i don't usually write fics this long, but i don't know what came over me. wrote 14 pages and half of it is smut. during the writing process i had in mind a jason and reader who have been partners for a long time now, so sex is something they've explored, so he's more open in this specific work.

✹ ꕀ MASTERLIST & NAVIGATION & AO3.

THE SILVER BEAMS OF MOONLIGHT POUR THROUGH THE GLASS WALL, COVERING THE ROOM WITH AN OTHERWORLDLY HUE. Cool and polished, the marble wall gleams under the light, its smooth surface marbles with veins of smoky silver and hints of gold. Tonight, Wayne Enterprises is holding its annual charity gala at Gotham Museum of Antiquities—complete with an elegant venue; eye-catching décor and displays; unending speeches and presentations along with slow, dramatic waltz and special VIP rooms.

Tonight, Jason leans on that polished marble wall—with his own polished black-tie suit. The ink-black velvet suit makes him blend in with the rest of the crowd. He’s done well with avoiding the rest of the mingling Gotham elite, choosing to hide away in some dark corner. Jason watches the ivory-colored champagne in his hand as he tilts the glass from one side to another—a game, if you will. A game to pass the time.

He looks down at the opulent watch on his wrist. It was a gift given to him by Dick. No matter how much Jason said no—or complained, by his brother's words—he didn’t want the ridiculously costly accessory. Though, Dick persisted—just as he did with Jason attending this gala.

Jason glared at the numbers on the watch’s dial. The Roman numeral IX stares back at him as if it’s mocking the man. Jason fidgets with the collar of his alabaster button up shirt—too tight around his neck. His foot restlessly taps against the shining surface of the floor beneath. Jason folds his arms across his chest as he retreats deeper into the corner.

Time couldn’t move slower, he thinks.

He hears a singsong voice call out to him as light steps echo closer— “How long are you going to stand there like a statue?”

The raven hair and ocean-like blue eyes of Dick are unmistakably familiar, even the teasing and lighthearted tone of his voice is engraved in Jason’s mind. Dick takes his place next to his little brother, leaning against the tall marble wall. His smug grin danced across his face. Dick playfully nudges Jason, prompting an answer out of him.

“Until this tedious, faux gala—I mean, important social occasion—ends. I don’t know how you survive here.” Jason groans, head falling back against the cool surface of the wall.

Dick lets a soft chuckle escape, “—Well,—” he clicks his tongue, “—It helps when you have a pretty thing by your side.”

Jason picks up on the tone of Dick’s voice and the suggestion. He can’t help but roll his eyes at his brother’s oh-so creative idea. The thought lingers in his mind for a minute—you, in some fancy outfit, perfectly suited for you, thin fabric hugging your plush and petal soft skin in all the right places.

His hand tightens around the champagne glass. Dick laughs again, satisfied with Jason’s reaction.

“Just wait until you see it in front of your own eyes.” Dick makes sure to emphasize the final words as he motions Jason to look across the dance floor.

There you stand, on the edge of the dance floor. The golden filigree of the ivory floor glows beneath your feet. The crystal chandelier casts a shimmering light upon your dewy skin. The rouge-colored velvet fabric flows across your frame like waves in a calm sea. Your hair meticulously detailed and styled drifts down from your neck and lightly touches your bare shoulders. A rose-gold pendant rests in the dip of your chest.

Your piercing eyes scan the crowd, searching across the mingling elite for a certain someone. Their dim glow reaches Jason even from the distance between you two—it turns luminous when you spot him.

He almost chokes on his breath.

“I’ll leave you two to it.” Dick smirks as he pats Jason on the shoulder. He moves before Jason can give him a nudge of his own and disappears into the crowd.

Your heels clink across the ivory floor as you approach him. Jason can swear he can feel and hear the champagne glass crack under his tightened grip. The drink is left forgotten as he leaves it on a nearby table. Jason meets up with you. Suddenly the suffocating air of the gala dissipates.

“Thought I’d find you moping in some far away corner.” You giggle softly.

“Well,”—Jason takes your hand in his—palm face down as he places a gentle kiss on top of it. His lips linger on you as he holds eye contact, the aqua hue of his eyes are like a siren’s call, beckoning you closer—“everything has changed since you’ve arrived.”

Jason’s warm touch lights a fire on your skin’s surface. You take a second to break out of your sweet reverie. “For the better, I hope?”

“Of course it’s for the better. Without you this entire ordeal would be rather boring.” He muses.

“You think all galas hosted by your father are boring, but with enough persuasion, you always show up.”

“Enough persuasion, huh?”, he laughs, “you think I’m so easily persuaded?”

You gather the courage to step even closer to him. The slight bob of his Adam's apple gives you all the confidence you need.

Your eyes dart across his frame. The ink-black suit sits on his body like it was made for him specifically. The heat spreads throughout, settling deep into the crooks of your body. Does he even know how he looks right now? A sculpted statue of a Greek god, made meticulously by a renowned artist, stands in front of you.

You can’t seem to tear your eyes off him, your mind too busy and occupied with wondering what other details of the statue hide behind the black velvet fabric. Jason notices this too, proved by the flustered cough that leaves him and the slight pink tint on his cheeks.

You gaze into his eyes again, “Aren’t I proof of that? A few sweet words from me and you’re at my beck and call.”

Jason chuckles, “You’re the only one. Count yourself lucky, you minx.”

A sly grin dances across your face, “Oh, I am very fortunate. Though, I’d like to test your weakness for me one more time.”

“What do you have planned?” He lets out a faux groan, eyes following your lips every move.

“Dance with me.”

“What?”

You stammer, the confidence you felt a few moments ago slowly leaving your body, “It’s a gala, right? I’m your partner and I thought we could dance? Only if you’d like of course! It’s not mandatory to dance, I just-”

Jason takes your hands in his own, “—I want to.”

“To dance? With me?”

“Who else?” He laughs, the sound akin to honey. You want to taste his sweet oh-so desperately on your tongue.

“O-Okay.” You lead him to the dance floor.

The ivory floor contrasts with the colors of your clothing. The lights across the room dance on you both, bathing in the warm, golden hue of the glow. Jason’s eyes shine like aquamarine crystals under the sunlight on a coast near the sea, touched gently by the seafoam. The two of you move and sweep through the crowd on the dance floor akin to the soft, rhythmic ebb of a river. It’s not precise, nor perfect. It reminds you of the cracks between broken pieces dipped and stitched back together with gold.

Your hand in Jason’s feels incredibly right, as if it was always meant to rest in the safety of his touch. Your cheeks graze as you attempt to hide yourself in the crook of his neck. A single whisper breaks you out of your trance.

“Don’t hide yourself, please. I want to see you—all of you.”

The words escape from the tip of your tongue, “you can, if you’d have me.”

Your suggestion rings in Jason’s ears. The surprise on his face is proven by the widening of his eyes and the slight part of his lips. His grip on your hands slightly strengthens, careful not to hurt you.

“Fuck.” He groans, the sound going straight to your core. The music slowly ends as he starts leading you towards an empty hallway. “I t-think they have rooms for the VIP’s here.”

There’s excitement in your every step. The more you walk, the more impatience eats at you.

“Jay-” You whine out, “Please-”

“Shh,” He smiles, “patience, and maybe you’ll be rewarded.”

Jason spots an unoccupied room near the two of you. In a few seconds he has you ushered into the privacy of its walls.

Now it’s just the two of you. The air feels hot and intoxicating. It doesn’t take long for the both of your lips to meet. The feel of his lips against yours is so familiar it strikes an aching feeling deep in your heart. Your cherry lipstick gets smeared more and more with every move of your lips. You finally let go of the strings of worry pulling at you and melt into his hold.

His hands travel from your hips to your waist and lay flat against your spine, bringing you closer as if the two of you will embrace each other as one. Every touch lights a fire on your skin. You suck on his bottom lip as your hands move from his face to the back of his neck, luring him closer as his tongue explores every corner of your mouth.

You whimper against Jason’s mouth. The wet kiss finally breaks. He sucked in a sharp breath. His eyes pierce into your own. The look of them makes you quiver in his hold.

Jason’s fingers graze your swollen lips, parting them. Your tongue reaches out on instinct, searching for his skin—his taste. He chuckles followed by a quiet hiss.

“Needy thing.” He moves closer, making you take a few steps back before reaching the bed. “Did you plan this?” He softly lowers you on the bed, hands trailing down to your hips, teasing the slit in the fabric hugging your plum skin.

You shamelessly drag your hands down his chest, clawing to reach his skin underneath the layers of clothes. “Please, Jay-” Your body aches for him, every part of you calls out to him, yearning for his touch, his kiss, his—

“Did you think about this?” He asks, his voice low as he reaches down to whisper in your ear, his lips teasingly close to you. “I know I did.” You can see his flushed skin and slightly tangled hair. He looks so beautiful, intoxicatingly so.

You let out a whine as he kisses the skin connecting your jaw and neck. He nibbles down on the skin, pleasure and the slight bite of pain mixing into each other oh-so well. It lights embers in your body as in his. He takes in the captivating smell of your lingering perfume, making him wish he could drown in it.

His tongue on your neck trails down to your chest, leaving blossoming marks in its wake. They feel electrifying, sending bolts of lighting down your body, straight into your core. Your thighs press together, searching for friction.

He chuckles, looking up at you, “Shh—” He hikes the fabric above your waist, “—let me take care of you.”

Jason sinks to his knees. His lips dance across your thighs, leaving wet kisses in its wake. Your hips shake, body too sensitive from previous touches. Your hand covers your mouth to muffle the whimpers escaping from it. His hand reaches up to yours, ripping it from your mouth.

“I want to hear you—every sound. Just lose control, love. You look angelic like this—under me, spread and so giving, ruffled hair and needy whines—such a pretty mess.” He purrs.

“Jay—” You shudder when his lips graze across your clothed pussy, “—Oh my god.”

Jason chuckles against you, the sound vibrating from your pussy to the rest of your body. He hooks the fabric of your soaked panties on his finger, moving them aside. You bite back a moan at the cool air touching you. Tears well up in your eyes, ruining your mascara.

“Look at you, dripping from me. Did I make you wait for it, baby? Let me make it up to you, yea?”

“Yes, yes, please, Jay—Mh!” The moan hitches in your throat as Jason's lips kiss your folds, his tongue teasing the entrance. “Feels good, Jay…”

He pushes your thighs above, placing them on his shoulders. His hands grip around your hips, trapping them in place. You arch your back as his tongue delves in your cunt. Your breath quivers as he sucks down on your clit. His tongue flicks along it, sending bolts of pleasure up your spine.

“Fuck, right there—don’t stop!”

Jason’s digits rise and part your folds as he inserts one inside you. The moans bounce across the room as he works you towards your climax, as if you’re an instrument that he knows every string of, which one to pull, graze, shake, and grip.

The pleasure builds up, spreading slowly throughout your body. Your climax hangs as if it’s a thin thread about to snap. You shake and cry out for Jason—the one currently working you up to the oh-so satisfying cut of that string.

Your noises feel him with a confidence he doesn’t feel anywhere else. It’s enthralling—the fact he can make you feel so good. He’ll carry you to your climax because that’s what his darling deserves for giving him such a good present—dressing up for him, being so giving—his sweet darling.

The shaking of your thighs grows more intense, just like the moans escaping your mouth. He adds another digit, curling deep inside your cunt. His touch reaches you just in the right places, making you feel dizzy from it all.

“‘m close, baby,” you whine, “god, yes-”

The thread tithers on the edge. Every curl of his fingers and flick of his tongue pushes you closer to that very edge. Your breath gets caught in your mouth, only a strangled moan leaving when your climax hits. You can feel his satisfied grin on your pussy lips. Your chest rises with every bolt of pleasure. His tongue doesn’t let it go. He laps up your cum leaking from your cunt, savoring the taste.

Jason’s fingers delicately dance across your folds, cum collecting on them. He raises his hand for you to see. The moonlight reflects off of the shiny white liquid on the tips of his fingers. Your walls clench at the sight, eyes widening and head falling back against the bed. He laughs again.

“C’mon, be good—clean them.”

He rises from his position climbing on top of you again. His head tilts as his hand moves closer to you. You shudder as the smell of your own climax reaches you. You open your mouth, tongue searching for a taste. He settles the fingers in your mouth. Your tongue swirls around his digits. The striking taste of your slick and cum spreads your mouth. His eyes never break contact with yours, the stare is too intense. You squirm against his body.

Jason’s breath gets caught in his throat. “Fuck—god—pretty girl, good job, just like that.”

His praise makes your hips buck into his own. You want to pleasure him too. The bulge in his pants proves his arousal and need. Your hand slowly trails down his clothed body, searching for any sign of refusal. When he gives you a shaky nod with a crooked smile, you take that as approval.

You take this chance to switch positions. Lowering him down onto the bed you move to straddle his hips. The fabric of his pants grazes your bare pussy, the sensitivity making you shake. Your hands move to his bulge again, palming him over his clothes. He sighs with pleasure, hands clutching the sheets underneath him.

You coo at his reaction, “My pretty boy.”

He whines, the sound coming out as a quiet plea. His hands leave the sheets and grip your hips—surely leaving bruises decorating your flush body. Jason’s hair’s akin to a halo, the moonlight seeping through the window faintly covers him in a faint glow, making him look heavenly. The sight makes you groan.

“Let me take care of you now.”

Your hands move to unzip his pants and free his clothed cock. The flushed red tip leaks of precum.

Jason rasps, “darling, touch me, please.”

“Shh, don’t worry—” You lean down to press a chaste kiss on his forehead, “—I’ll do whatever you need me to.”

You raise your hips as you settle your hands on his chest, hands digging into his disheveled clothes. The tip of his cock kisses your cunt as you align yourself. You sink down onto him, his entire length slowly disappearing into your warmth. Your velvety walls hug his cock.

He shudders with pleasure, “—Fuck, baby- tryna milk me dry, ah-”

You try to settle onto a rhythm. His hands—still on your hips—help you along with the pace, pulling them down onto his cock. The sounds of moans and skin slapping against skin spread throughout the room, bouncing across wall to wall. His hands reach up to your chest, grazing your nipples. Jason chuckles as your eyes widen and thighs shake with every touch.

Both of your moans mix into each other—the sound downright shameless but akin to ambrosia. The similar thread coils for Jason. His breaths become shaky, as your rhythm changes and pace becomes messy. Jason’s hands trail down from your chest to your hips, hanging on.

“Don’t stop, baby- please.”

He bites down onto his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, trying to muffle his sounds. The coil threatens to unfold any second. Jason’s back arches with every desperate thrust, his hips coming to meet you in the middle, chasing that high. His climax reaches closer and closer.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask with a shaky voice.

He barely makes out your words in his hazy mind, “Of course, god-”

Both of your lips crash together as Jason’s climax hits him. He whines into your mouth, hands flying up to grip any piece of you he can—waist, spine, neck—he settles on cradling your face. Breaking from the kiss, his red and flushed lips tremble from ecstasy.

“How are you feeling?” You mumble into the crook of his neck, snuggling closer.

Jason wraps his arms around your frame, hiding his face in your hair, taking in your smell. “I’m feeling amazing- christ.”

You giggle in response. Moving from his neck you place a soft kiss on his cheek. “I love you—like I’m crazy in love.”

“I love you too, baby.”

You settle against his chest. Your eyes scan the room, taking notice of the messy sheets and the smell of sex spreading throughout the entire place. You suddenly remember the promise you made to his family about making him step out of his shell when it comes to these galas. Plan successfully failed?

The two of you slowly shuffle off the bed. Adjusting your clothing is fairly easy, the hair is more of a problem. Your make-up is a mess, too.

You tut, “Jay…”

“I think you look beautiful.” He moves closer to place a chaste kiss on your lips, his tongue slipping out to taste the smeared cherry lipstick.

“Crap, are we just going to leave the room and return to the gala like this?”

Jason lets out a laugh, seeing him lighthearted and content like this spreads a warmth in your heart.

“Well, I’m sure you’re a sight for the eyes, but I don’t want to share. We’re sneaking out.”

“I miss home. I don’t like these galas.” you whine.

“Me too. But I did like this one.” He smirks as his hands smooth out the back of your dress.

You snort, “Good. Maybe next time you’ll get lucky again.” You button his suit.

“I’ll hold you to that.” His hands try to settle your hair in a more presentable state. “We’ll get there and I’ll set up a warm bath for the two of us. After that we can finally rest.”

“I love you. I wanted to say that again.”

Jason smiles, eyes moving across your face, “—Me too, darling.”

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frogchiro · 4 months ago

Note

I’m so glad you’re back!! Could you talk more about goddess!reader and Konig, absolutely love love love your stuff btw 🩷🩷🩷

-🦇🍍

Ofc I can!! I love my desperate simp♡

He's an old, battle hardened warrior who somehow never prays to the gods of war, warriors and battle, instead he prays to the sweet goddess of love, art, dance and fruitful crops.

König ignores all the jeers from the other warriors who mock him for praying to a goddes who is usually worshipped by dramatic artists, farmers, girls, women and new families and yest somehow it's König who always comes back from even the hardest battles and is always the decorated war hero.

What they don't need to know and is only for his devoted eyes only is the small figurine of you made out of ivory, and always runs his rough fingers all over your full curves in worship, breathing a silent prayer and kissing it.

Whenever he is in the solitarity of his own home, he makes his own kind of offers to you; he jerks off his fat cock for you, offers you his thick, potent seed and his pleasured moans, his whined out words of devotion his prayer for you.

In his deepest desires and fantasies he dreams of meeting you in your temple, your beautiful, full body lush and lightly covered in expensive silks and gold jewelry as your sweet voice becons him towards you and he willingly goes and falls to his knees, naked and offers himself as an offer to you...

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #goddess of love!reader #goddess!reader #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #könig x reader #konig x reader #könig #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig mw2

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myladysapphire · 5 months ago

Text

My Lady Strong (VIII)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 3,115

CW: MDI 18+, SMUT, p in v, loss of virginity, oral (f and m receving), fingering, possesivness, corruption kink, praise kink (use of good girl) toxic relationship, manipulation, mommy issues, co-dependancy issues, not proofread!

Fem!oc x dark!Aemond Targeryen

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclamer: i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my Original characters

a/n sorry it took so long to update...but heres the wedding night!, next chapter will be a time skip!

(go to the divider by @zaldritzosrose, to skip the smut)

The feast passed over in the blink of an eye and before she knew it her and Aemond stood in his, or now their shared chambers.

Her belongings had been moved over during the ceremony, though they all seemed slightly out of place amongst his things.

Before, in the rare times she was in Aemond’s room, everything was always neat, nothing out of its designated spot, though his rooms lacked anything too personal, with no tapestries or rugs, nothing to permanent too show they were his.

Though it was no surprised that he seemed to have been own personal library in his rooms, with a whole wall dedicated to his collection.

Now the rooms seemed warmer, with his bookcase draped in her tapestries, the floor covered in her rugs. And his bed filled with her mountains for pillows and blankets. His room was bigger than hers, and it allowed everything, even her seemingly endless wardrobe to fit in effortlessly. Though apart of it still felt strange. Perhaps it was how the furniture was so different from hers. Where her bed was carved with sea horses and dragons, his was bare, bar the one carving at the centre of his bed, a dragon, Vaghar.

Her vanity had been brought in, all her belongings placed perfectly, her new chemise placed carefully on the bed.

Her maid, Jeyne, had accompanied her. Taking of her dress and her jewels.

She already missed her gown, hating that she only got to where it for a few hours and would never be worn again.

“Would you like to keep it?” Jeyne asked softly, as she brushed through Aemma’s hair.

“yes” she nodded, it was such a beautiful dress, weeks and weeks had gone into the design alone. With its ivory coloured, laced with gold designs of dragons. The way the were sewn in away that they almost looked as if they were dancing, some beaded with emeralds, some with sapphires and the others beaded with black opal gems. “its too beautiful to be discarded off, may haps we could have the dress made into another gown.”

Jeyne smiled softly, “of course, princess”.

The door opened then, and Aemond entered.

Jeyne stepped back, curtsying before leaving the room.

They were alone, truly alone. It was different than all the times before, this time she stood before him, in a sheer chemise, that left almost nothing to the imagination.

“Aemond” she whispered as he stepped into the room.

He wore a rich red robe, where he had changed you did not know, but the sight of his bare chest peaking out from his robe, caused all thoughts to cease.

“Aemma,” he moved towards you, smiling, his eyes filled with something akin to a predator watching its prey. “you look stunning” he hummed, his hands coming up to play with the straps of your chemise.

You gave him a shy smile, “i-I so are you?” she said, nervously.

He hummed again, moving her strap to fall of her shoulders, “are you nervous?”

“yes”

He hummed, his hand reaching up to grab her breast, she gasped. “good” he whispered, “it will hurt, but only the first time, and then…then my sweet Aemma you will feel nothing but pleasure” he vowed, moving up to take her lips in his.

She moaned into his mouth, her feet stumbling backward until she landed on the bed. She gasped softly as she did. He leaned over her once they had reached the bed, his hand gasping her chin as he pulled her into another kiss, before pulling back and standing between her legs.

He kissed his thumb as he moved back to look at her, taking in her form. Her hair messed slightly, her chemise had fallen slightly, only one move away before falling off and revelling her breasts to him.

“off” he said, motioning her to stand up, nervously she did, her hands going to pull her chemises up, “no,” he said, stopping her, “I shall see all of you”

She looked down at the floor nervously, before reaching once again towards her straps.

As she pulled her chemise down, Aemond let out a loan groan.

“gods, you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen” he said, causing her to blush.

“I want to see you to.”

Aemond smirked, reaching to pull of his robe, he bared himself to her. His full form, the muscles on his chest, his half erect cock.

She blushed even more taking him in. “I think you are most handsome, Aemond” causing him to smile, a true smile. “but I want to see all of you” she insisted, moving her hand towards his face. He grabbed her hand as she reached for his eye patch. “please” she asked.

He hesitated, “why?” he almost sneered, “tis your brothers fault I lost it”

“but its not mine.” She sighed, “please Aemond, I wish to see my husband, all of him”

He sighed, before letting go of her wrist allowing her to remove his eyepatch.

He had expected her gasp in fear, retreat away from him. Instead, though she gasped, it was more in awe than anything else.

“is that a sapphire?” she asked coming to caress his scar. He nodded. “its beautiful” she sighed, before placing a soft kiss below it.

She smiled softly, as she took a step back, “have you…?” she asked, shyly, she did not know much of what was to come, bar what her septa had told her, and though she grew jealous of the idea of Aemond lying with another woman, a apart of her hoped he had, hoped he could guide her and teach her. All she wanted was to please him, make him happy, and how could she if she didn’t have him to show her how?

He nodded, smirking slightly, “of course, wife” he nodded, moving to grasp her chin, “but worry not non of them shall ever compare to you” he said as he kissed her once more. He held her face to him, gripping the back of her neck, his tongue teasing entrance into her mouth before finally pushing his tongue into her mouth. And ever submissive, Aemma allowed him to dominate her mouth. She moaned softly into his mouth, as she once again laid back on the bed, his body effortless slotting over hers.

His mouth slowly left hers, moving to kiss the nape of her neck before slowly dropping to his knees.

He sent her a smirk, as he buried himself between her thighs.

He licked her folds teasingly at first, savouring the taste of her.

She was growing wetter and wetter with each motion of his tongue, moaning softly as he started to focus his ministration on her clit.

He gripped her hips as he gave fast and quick licks to her clit, his eyes meeting hers as she gripped the bedding in pleasure.

“Husband” she moaned, and it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, for so long he had worshiped the sound of his name on her lips, but hearing her call him her husband? The possessive in him became tenfold. She was his, in the eyes of the gods and the realm, she was his and he was hers and nothing could change that. And gods did he love it, love her.

His tongue moved faster, realising in her moans. His arm still griped her wait, stopping her from moving his hips, though his second arm left her waist, moving his fingers to tease her whole.

She was tight, completely untouched. She gasped as he entered her, her walls clenching his fingers as they entered her.

Groaning as he imagined how they would soon feel wrapped around his cock.

Pumping his fingers in and out of her at a leisurely pace, as he sucked at her clit.

“Aemond” she moaned this time, reaching her hand to grip his hair.

He groaned as she did, before reaching out to grip her hand alongside her waist.

His fingers clenched around him, her peak approaching.

Her moans came more present, getting louder and louder before she let out a high-pitched moan, her whole body reacting as she came.

Aemond moved back slowly, taking in her messy hair and bliss ridden face.

She was out of breath, collapsing fully on the bed.

“wife” he groaned, his body moving over hers.

She smiled softly as she looked up at him.

“is that what it always feels like?” she asked, breathless.

He smirked, “It can”

“I want to do the same to you?”

He looked unsure at her request, though he had imagined fucking her face countless times, he craved to feel her hot cunt wrapped around his cock.

But as she moved up to kiss him, her hand slowly reaching down to grab his cock. He groaned as she nervously touched his cock, her face determined to please him.

“Aemma.” He groaned, as his face buried himself into the nape of her neck.

He shoved himself off her, her hands slowly falling from his cock to her thighs as he moved.

“up” he demanded, as she nervously stood from the bed. ”kneel”. She did so hesitantly, looking up at him with nervous doe eyes.

The sight alone was enough for him to cum.

his hand gripped her jaw as she looked up at him, his thumb pushing into her mouth slowly. “suck” he demanded, as her reached to tuck her hair behind her ear.

She complied without complaint, gently sucking on his thumb as he pushed it into her mouth. He groaned as she did, moving his thumb out of his mouth.

“kiss it” he said, pushing his hips so his cock moved closer to her face.

She looked up at him unsure as she kissed his tip. Her lips were soft an gentle as they kissed the tip of his cock.

“again” he groaned, as she kissed it again, her hands laid pliantly on her knees , her hair now gripped between his hands as he made a makeshift bun as he held her head to his cock as she started to pepper kisses across his cock.

“fuck, Aemma” he moaned, “open” he said, and as she did, he slowly pushed his cock between her lips.

her mouth case warm, the feeling of her mouth felt almost as delightful as he imagined the walls of her cunt would feel like wrapped around his cock.

her hands slowly moved up from where they say on your knees. One hand gripped his waist, in an attempt to stabilise herself as Aemond moved her head to bob up and down his cock. the other went to reach for the base of his cock, he barley fit in her mouth, and as she gagged around his cock, causing him to groan and the eyes rolling back.

“fuck” he groaned again, “use your hand to grab what cannot fit” he moaned, moving your head faster, “move it up an- yes like that, good girl” he moaned as she started to motion her hand up and down on the part of her cock she couldn’t fit into her mouth.

He moved his hand to grip the back of her neck, his hips now thrusting forward as he slowly started to fuck her face. Though he didn’t for long as before he knew it he could feel his own peak approaching.

He tore himself from her mouth, causing her to groan at the loss of him in her mouth.

She looked up at him, bewildered, before reaching forward in an attempt to take him back in her mouth.

“no, Aemma” he laughed, pulling her body up from the floor. “on the bed.” He said, as he himself moved to lay back, patting the space beside him.

She crawled across the bed to him, stopping in front of him. His legs were spread, and she crawled into his lap, softly kissing his lips.

She could taste herself on his tongue and she was sure he could taste himself on her own tongue.

She could feel his cock between her thighs, edging closer to her cunt.

“lay back” he said against her lips.

Laying down on the bed, Aemond once again crawled on top of her. His hand moved down to her cunt, his finger gathering up her wetness as he once again teased her entrance, he pushed two fingers into her slowly, stretching her more so that he had before, preparing her for his cock.

She moaned as he did so, the stretch delightful as he pumped her full, but she still craved more, she craved his cock.

“please” she begged.

“please what?” he hummed, pumping her slowly.

“I want you” she moaned.

“you have me.” “no…I want your…your cock” she whispered the last word, feeling dirty from saying it .

“my cock?” he teased, as he removed his fingers from her.

“Yes!” she groaned, moving to grab him, “please”

He hummed, smiling softly as he positioned himself between her thighs.

He kissed her softly as he slowly pushed into her.

Her face scrunched discomfort as he stretch her and broke her maidenhead. He pushed into her slowly, allowing her to adjust to his length.

He moaned as he fully entered her, her tight walls encasing his cock in such a delightful way.

“gods, Aemma” he moaned, as he buried his head into the nape of her neck.

“move, please” she begged after a moment, her hands moving to grip his arms, as he slowly started to thrust his hips into her. He started of slowly, allowing her time to adjust, but as she started to roll her hips into his. He began to pick up his face, slowly setting a fast rhyme. His hand moving from her sides to grip the head board as he started to pound into her.

Her moans grew louder and more high pitched, her legs moving to wrap around his waist.

“keep your eyes on me” he groaned as she closed her eyes in pleasure, her legs fell from his hips, her eyes fully fixed on his as she started to reach her peak.

The eye contact was like nothing she had experienced before. His eyes were dark, possessive, and yet also filled with love. The pure amount of emotions in her eyes pushed her to competition, as she let out a high pitched squeal, her arms gripping his pack, living small scratches as she came.

Her cunt wrapped tightly around his cock, causing Aemond o let outa moan of his own as he worked her through her orgasm, before finally letting go himself, filling her with his cum.

They got little sleep that night, with scarce few minutes before being awoke once more to heated touches, her cunt stretches with his cock in more ways than she could count. She have never felt anything like it, the pleasure beyond imaginable.

As she awoke now she traced the lines of Aemond’s face gently, taking in his beauty. He was truly spectacular, all sharp lines and edges, his silver hair and purple eye. She envied his beauty, how Valyrian he looked and how little she did.

She hoped there children would inherit his beauty and not hers. She adored the idea of carry a little Aemond.

She smiled softly as she played with his hair, only stopping when a knock was sounded on her door.

Grabbing her robe, and quickly brushing her hair she opened the door, only to face her mother.

She smiled softly as she greeted her, “mother” she said, motioning her to step inside, her mother grimacing slightly as she took in Aemond’s sleeping from. “what can I do for you?”

Her mother sighed, looking down in shame “ we are leaving…now”

“what?”

“I- we cannot be here much longer, the- we are unwelcome so we have decided it best to leave.”

“but I just got married, I thought you would stay at least a few more days”

“I know…im sorry”

Aemma scoffed, “sorry? You do not write me, show up for a few days and then leave again! You are not sorry! You just don’t want me! I doubt you ever did!” she cried in aguish.

“no.. no Aemma, dōna riña, that’s not true.” She moved towards, her reaching for her hands only to be met with Aemma’s rejection, nyke bardutan ao naenie letters, kīvin zijo. nyke dōrī jiōraton aōhon se nyke pendagon bona se greens- alicent se aemond hid zirȳ hen ao naejot gūrogon ao hen nyke” her mother spoke, chaing to high valyrian as if to keep what she ahd to say a secret.

i wrote you many letters, i swear it. i never got yours and i think that the greens- Alicent and Aemond hid them from you to take you from me.

“daor daor, nyke ȳdra daor belive ao!”

No no, I don’t believe you!

“iksan telling se truth, ñuha jorrāelagon, emā issare torn hen nyke se kostan daor bare naejot ūndegon ziry. eman issare vēttan ezīmagon iā issaros se kicked hen ñuha own lenton, istin henujagon”

i am telling the truth, my love, you have been torn from me and i can not bare to see it. i have been made into a stranger and kicked from my own home, i must leave.

Aemma scoffed, “nyke- nyke, aōha verdagon bē excuses muña! Aemond vestās ao would, skoro syt shouold nyke believe ao? especially skori īlē sīr adere naejot jikagon nyke qrīdrughagon?”

i-i, your making up excuses mother! Aemond said you would, why shouold i belive you? especially when you were so quick to send me away?

Her mother let out an irritated sound, “have I lost you complete, Aemma?” she asked sadly “I have been so blind, I should have come with you, should have stayed here-“ “then stay!”

“I can’t”

“I don’t understand! What have I done?” she asked, she was confused she didn’t know what she had done, why her own mother couldn’t stay, why she had left her.

“i- you have done nothing” her mother insisted.

“so you are leaving just because you do not like me? Or is it because of Aemond? You were always against our friendship, and yet you were the one who proposed we wed! you are so-“

She was cut off by Aemond, their shouting waking him from sleep, “get out!” he demanded, “all you do is upset my wife, I shall not have it!”

And her mother left, with no complaint only sad eyes and the word goodbye. The way she said it made her feel as if her mother felt like she had lost her forever, as if this was there final goodbye.

Next part

taglist

@melllinaa @zillahvathek @ateliefloresdaprimavera @bellaisasleep @aleemendoza2425-blog @bunbunblogsblog @theanxietyqueen17 @leavesmealobe @ka1afbr @winchesterfamiliebusiness @gghoulzz @dark-night-sky-99 @violet-potter @iamthehybrid @duckworthbean @winter-soldier-101 @apollonshootafar @deeeeexx @zzz000eee @meowtastick @flrboyd @cynic-spirit @wondergal2001 @aelora-a @amanda08319 @may-machin @sarahkimtae @yentroucnagol @loserwithnofriends @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @urmomsbananabread @azaleapotterblack @delaynew @adira033 @babyzzlove @tesha-i-guess @aemondwhoresworld @zimzala01 @aegonswife @littlebirdgot @justbelljust

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florencemtrash · 5 months ago

Text

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Twenty-Four

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Some family-related angst, some family-related fluff

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Your father had never summoned you like this before.

Helion was all charming smiles and dramatic entrances into rooms without invitation. The pegasus he’d sent to your apartment to invite you to a party said as much about his character. So, sliding a letter beneath your door in the early hours of the morning felt decidedly tame in comparison.

Although, it may have had to do with the unimaginably protective Shadowsinger sharing your bed.

He snatched the letter off the floor immediately, wings flaring out in suspicion. Then, recognizing Helion’s familiar scrawl, handed it over to you.

“What does it say?” He sank into bed, concerning himself with kissing the curve of your neck so he wouldn’t read the words. Nosey bastard that he was.

You scanned the words again, feeling excitement flutter in your stomach. “He wants to have breakfast with Lucien and I. As a family.”

Your hands dropped to your lap. “He knows?”

Azriel nodded, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “He knows. He and Lucien stopped by every day to check in on you.”

“And did you let them inside the room?”

Azriel stiffened. “Yes.” Then he wrapped his hands around your waist, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt — his shirt. He sighed. “I could have been warmer to them.”

You leaned back against his chest, breathing in the quiet morning for as long as you could stretch it. But you had a breakfast to attend. Perhaps the most important breakfast you’d ever have in your life.

Azriel accompanied you as far as the double doors to one of Dawn’s minor halls, although “minor” was likely a relative term. There wasn’t an inch of Dawn’s court that wasn’t dripping with gold embroidery and color.

Purple lace curtains, hand-stitched to look like peacock feathers, fanned the open windows. Stained glass threw their colors over ivory walls and the hand-painted tiles could have put the sea to shame in its color and finery.

Your brother paced in front of the doors, and the golden light of morning seemed to follow his footsteps, outlining him in a halo of pale yellow.

“Y/n!” Lucien’s eyes softened at the sight of you.

You were whole. Well. Safe.

Your eyes lit up at the sight of him and soon you were clutching the layers of your dress in your fists and running down the hall. Silent footsteps ended with a dull thud as you slammed into Lucien’s chest, wrapping your arms around his middle.

“Thank the gods you’re ok.” You breathed into his chest.

“I should be the one worrying. You’re the one who killed a death god.”

You huffed. Talking about what happened felt strange. Like it was too true to be real.

He gave you a once over glance, and you did the same, checking for bandaged wounds and new scars.

His hair was braided back at the temples, but your keen eyes saw the strands of hair that had been shorn short during the fight. You smoothed them back into place, tucking them into braids so they wouldn’t stick out awkwardly.

Lucien glanced over your shoulder at where the Shadowsinger lingered halfway down the hall. Azriel was trying very hard, and failing, to give you your privacy. But the moment Lucien stepped away, Azriel was at your side once again, his hand firmly placed at the small of your back.

Together, you cut a striking silhouette against Dawn’s colors. You, with your silky white and gold dress flaring down your back like bird wings, and Azriel with his black leathers and broad shoulders wrapping around you like shadows.

A Librarian and her knight.

A Shadowsinger and an Inkbird.

Two mates. Different. Same.

Your brother smirked, but there was no animosity in his tone when he said, “I was wondering when your guard dog would come to attention.”

“Careful,” you reprimanded him. Your eyes sparked dangerously.

Azriel slid his hand from your back to your waist, pulling you ever closer to his chest. A flicker of pride reverberated through the bond. He didn’t mind Lucien’s comment, but he did like to hear you defend him. Very much.

There was a strange understanding that passed between Azriel and Lucien. Perhaps even some sliver of respect as Azriel kissed your cheek.

“I’ll be waiting outside,” he promised.

He surveyed the hall, eventually finding the darkest corner available to tuck himself into. Even without his shadows he managed to disappear from sight.

“How is Vassa doing?”

Lucien tried to smile for your sake. “She’s grateful to you. You took away the worst of her pain. But I don’t think she’ll truly begin to heal until she sees Jurian again… or at least where we’ve buried him.”

You took your brother’s arm and squeezed tightly. You suspected the same could be said for him. He’d never gotten a chance to say goodbye.

“And how are you? Have you spoken to Helion since the lake? Azriel said you both came to see me.”

“Those have been silent visits.” Lucien’s eyes flickered over to the darkness he knew Azriel was hiding in. “And it’s not like your mate let us stay long. Territorial bastard.”

“We’re also bastards.” You reminded him. “It’s not much of an insult when we say it.”

He hummed half in agreement. “Helion’s been busy with Court business, and aside from visiting you, I’ve been avoiding him like the plague. ”

“But you still came today.”

“I did.” Lucien winced and squeezed your arm. “I’m glad you’re here. I was afraid I’d have to face him alone.”

You furrowed your brows at his choice of words. “Why would you be afraid of—”

The doors opened of their own accord and you quickly shut your mouth as Lucien stiffened beside you.

Helion was many things — charming, charismatic, flirtatious to a fault. Always giving off an air of carefree happiness. Like the sun in the sky, he shined brightly in every room he entered, lifting spirits with his head held high.

You’d never seen your father so nervous in his life. Or so… normal in appearance.

He’d forgone his crown, which was not unusual, but he’d also left off his bracelets and necklaces. Nothing but a few gold cuffs added to his locs served as decoration for his cream-colored tunic and trousers.

You and Lucien were wildly overdressed in comparison. Without realizing it, you’d both prepared for a breakfast with a High Lord. Not your father. And Helion could not hide his disappointment at this fact.

His eyes locked on the white and gold garments you’d both chosen to wear. Day Court colors to show respect for him. But you’d also both chosen elements representative of your new homes. Lucien kept a bronze maple leaf pinned to the lapel of his jacket and the gown beneath your robes was laced with black thread. Shadows, for your mate and for the Night Court.

He never thought a sight could fill him with such pride and such dismay.

You took the first steps forward before Lucien unstuck his feet from the floor and followed.

It was a long walk across the short hall. Garlands of carnations wrapped around the ceiling arches, dripping down the walls like ivy and framing the wide spread of food that had been prepared.

Helion stepped around the table and held his hand out for your first, pulling you in for a hug that had your toes brushing against the floor. It was the first time he’d ever held you like this.

It felt nice. Safe.

Lucien watched with something like longing as Helion gently lowered you to your feet and shouted, “Do you have any idea the hell you put me through?!”

Your eyebrows flew up in surprise. Lucien stiffened, his hand drifting to the knife strapped beneath his dinner jacket.

Helion gripped your shoulders, red-shot eyes wide and desperate as he bowed down to look at you.

“What were you thinking putting yourself in danger like that?!”

Your mother had never reprimanded you. You had never left the Alcove for long enough to get into trouble. So, the flare of teenage embarrassment in your chest was an unexpected and new feeling.

“Well I—”

“Never again,” your father commanded, shaking his head. “You are never to pull any stunt like that again, do you understand? Not while I remain your father and High Lord.”

“Helion, I—”

“Did you ever even stop to think about what you were doing?”

You blinked and that embarrassment turned to indignation. You were a Librarian. All you ever did was think, and think, and think. Sometimes too much.

“Of course I did!”

“Then why the hell did you do it?!”

The answer was obvious. “Azriel was dying. My mate was dying! And Koschei would have killed you next, what did you expect me to do?”

“I expected you to stay safe and to let me handle it!”

“You weren’t handling it!”

“I am your father! You are meant to bury me, not the other way around!” He roared.

The chandelier and the flowers trembled. The light from the windows flared up and died down like a comet had shot past.

You were stunned into silence. You hadn’t truly thought about how Helion would react to your death. The twist of agony on his face was painful to look at now when you were still alive and standing. You didn’t want to imagine how he would have reacted if you had died.

Guilt simmered in your stomach as you thought of him burying you. Of what it must feel like for a parent to see their child killed in front of them.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured awkwardly. Although you didn’t regret your decisions. “I guess I’ll… let you kill the death god next time.”

Helion scoffed, rubbing his temples and shaking his head. “You’re grounded,” He finally declared.

It was cliche. Obviously. But being cliche was an easy plan to fall back on when he couldn’t come up with anything else. What could he possibly say to his daughter after she’d nearly sacrificed herself to save them all? “I’m three hundred and forty-three. That’s really not necessary… or effective. ”

“Fuck,” Helion muttered beneath his breath.

“It was a nice try.”

As you’d told Lucien, Helion was not a great father… but he was trying.

Lucien cleared his throat, feeling decidedly out of place as he hovered just off to the side. You grabbed his wrist, pulling him into the circle of conversation.

“I don’t suppose you’ll try to ground Lucien as well.”

The answering silence was a resounding No as you all took a seat at the breakfast table. The pile of tarts in the center was so tall and decorated with so many flowers you couldn’t see Lucien from where you sat on opposite sides. Helion must have recognized his error because with a snap of his fingers, the long table was replaced by a smaller, more intimate arrangement.

“Thank you for coming,” Helion said nervously, pouring out a sweet drink into your cups that smelled of spiced apples and maple syrup.

Lucien stiffened at the sight of the Autumn Court drink. There were many items from the Autumn Court actually — whole roasted chestnuts smothered in toffee, apple and walnut cake, pumpkin pastries, and spiced sausages.

Helion slid a blackberry and custard tart onto your plate, needing something to do with his hands as Lucien stared without ever touching his silverware.

You nudged Lucien’s foot from beneath the table and his golden eye whirled on you.

Say something. Your raised eyes said to him.

What the fuck am I meant to say?

Helion noted the silent communication between you two and decided to take you both out of your misery by asking, “How long have you known about each other?”

You began cutting the tart into bite-sized pieces. “A few months. I recognized Lucien when he first came to the Night Court and told him I was your daughter a couple weeks after.”

“How?” Helion asked in amazement. “How did you know?”

He’d always found it difficult to look at the Vanserra boys. They looked too much like their mother. But while she’d passed down her beautiful features, Beron’s cruelty had twisted them into something less lovely. Never Lucien though. Lucien had always been different. A little kinder.

Helion must have seen him a dozen times over three centuries. How had he not recognized his own son?

You shrugged and took a bite of your tart. “I have eyes. You have the same nose and the same smile.”

Neither Lucien nor Helion were smiling now, but it was true. They did have the same noses.

Helion sank into his chair, dragging his hand down his unnaturally stoic face. “You must think I’m some terrible villain, Lucien.”

Your brother swallowed thickly, fingers playing with the handle of his fork.

“Did you know? Did you know who I was? Did you know what Beron was doing to us? To my mother?”

Helion cast his gaze down in shame. “No… and yes. I didn’t know you were my son, but I knew what Beron was doing. What he was capable of behind closed doors.”

“So why didn’t you do anything about it?” Lucien asked through gritted teeth. “Why didn’t you ever take her away from him?”

“It’s not that simple, Luc—”

“It is that simple! You’re a High Lord. What’s the point of all that power if you won’t do anything with it?”

Lucien was a smart male. Years spent traveling as an emissary for Spring, Night, and the Human Lands had made him perceptive and diplomatic to a fault. He knew why Helion hadn’t done anything. To steal away the Lady of Autumn would have been an act of war. And if Beron had ever discovered the truth about Lucien, he would have killed him first and then his mother.

Yes, Helion had made the smart move by staying away. Aurelia Vanserra had made the best decision to keep her mouth shut and stay in Autumn. Even though one letter to Helion would have been enough to change everything.

One letter and Helion would have taken her and Lucien to safety.

But who would have protected Eris and the others then? Who else would have shielded her sons from the worst of Beron’s anger?

Lucien knew it wasn’t that simple. But he also didn’t care. Politics and reason could go to hell.

“You’re right,” Helion admitted with a sigh.

Lucien blinked in surprise. You looked at your father and he seemed to age twenty years in an instant.

“You’re right, Lucien. I should have recognized it sooner, but I didn’t. I should have protected you and your mother and your brothers, but I didn’t. And I will regret that until the day I die.” He shook his head scornfully. “I didn’t even take care of the child I did know about.”

Lucien hadn’t expected Helion to crumple so quickly. He’d shown up to breakfast with a vial of poison in his boot and a faebane-laced knife hidden in his jacket, just in case. After all, that’s how he would have prepared for a meal with Beron if he was still alive.

So to see Helion, tears burning in his eyes and shame written on every facet of his face, was unexpected. It erased some of the anger that had been festering in Lucien’s chest ever since he learned he was a bastard. Dislodged the stone in his stomach that weighed him down.

“But you did take care of me,” you said. “You still do… in your own way.” You pushed the pieces of tart around your plate. “I don’t like blackberry and custard tarts. I haven’t since I was seventy.”

Helion’s face fell. “Oh.”

“But they used to be my favorite… up until the day you brought twelve to the apartment and I ate them all behind mom’s back and threw up.”

“You are setting a very low standard for me, Y/n.”

“You can raise it in the future.” You looked at Lucien. He can do the same for you. Is what you were thinking, and somehow, Lucien understood.

“I want us to be a family.” It was the first time you’d ever dared to say the words out loud. Words were precious, powerful things, fragile as they seemed when spoken to the world. “I want more breakfasts with the three of us at a table. I want to ask you how Court business and emissary work are going and I want to buy you shitty gifts for Summer Solstice. Is that too much to ask?”

Helion swallowed thickly and shook his head. “No, my darling, that’s not too much to ask.” He looked at Lucien, finding more and more commonalities with every second glance. “I would like nothing more.”

Lucien stared at him hard and long. He was still hesitant about Helion and there were centuries of pain he’d need to let go of before he ever called Helion father.

But for you? He would try just about anything for his little sister.

He nodded stiffly and finally served himself a helping of chestnuts. The toffee coating crumbled between his teeth. They tasted like home.

“Let’s try this again. What should our first topic of conversation be?” Helion asked.

“Recent events are off the table,” you muttered, sliding a strawberry and rhubarb tart onto your plate.

“I second that,” Lucien said.

He wanted to exist in this strange bubble for a little longer. This bubble where they were an estranged family and nothing more. Not a High Lord. Not a misplaced heir without a home. Not a Librarian marked by a death god.

Just a father and his two children. That was messy enough as it was.

“We could judge your new boyfriend,” Helion offered. “That seems like a family-worthy conversation.”

Lucien perked up at the suggestion, lips twitching into a smile.

You cringed. That word — boyfriend — sounded so… juvenile.

“He’s my mate.” You corrected him.

“It’s not too late to turn him down.”

“Helion—”

“I think you could do better,” Lucien chimed in, and Helion nodded in agreement.

And so, your first meal as a family came and went. You all stumbled in the conversation, treating every word like uneven ground that could fall away into something too deep. Too personal. Too serious for a first breakfast. But you also laughed, mostly at Azriel’s expense. And you managed to keep the worst of the grief at bay. For all the centuries you’d spent on your own, this was a promising start.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

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Author's Note: Y'all deserved a (relatively) calm and happy breakfast between these characters because DAMN has shit happened in the last like three chapters. Hope y'all enjoyed this little bit of Y/n, Helion, and Lucien FINALLY GETTING TO BE A PROPER FAMILY TOGETHER!!!! I love them so much.

#the shadowsinger and the inkbird #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader slowburn #acotar #azriel x reader angst

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felixitate · 6 months ago

Text

can't resist | lyb (m.)

pairing ⇢ felix x reader

summary ⇢ felix really only entered the bathroom to retrieve his camera but you're even more tempting than he anticipated.

rating & word count ⇢ 2.3k | 18+ (minors gtfo)

genre/au ⇢ smut, fluff, idk what they are 🤭

warnings/content ⇢ teasing, cursing, petnames, groping, hair pulling, breast play, unprotected sex, creampie, mirror shenanigans, the camera and the rings are involved ig

theme song ⇢ the boy is mine - ariana grande

a/n: yeah the title speaks for itself on what i’m still going through rn lmao you see his hold on me? it's fucking insane like how dare he fr i have not recovered from those ig stories fawk and i don't think i'll ever be

“take photos with me?”

you ask Felix fondly when he is about to open the door. it made him pause a bit, weighing how much time he had since you could take a while with this.

he’s not really in a hurry since the others are still getting their makeup done. good thing that he luckily went first so he’s got time to look for his special camera that he possibly misplaced earlier.

the other boys said no when Felix asked if they'd seen it but he's sure he left it somewhere so that only leaves you. he knew that you’d stay in the spare room to get ready and avoid suspicion from other gala goers so he wasn’t that surprised where he found it.

he entered the bathroom where he found you standing in front of the vanity while taking selfies from your phone. then you’re scrolling to look through the selcas you took so he kinda expected that you’d use his camera already but you haven't.

that's one of the reasons why you take the longest in the bathroom anyway, having the habit of taking pictures when the lighting's to your liking.

so why haven't you?

maybe you want him to take pictures of you instead which he'd happily do. smiling brightly at you, Felix nods as he closes the door. he really can't say no to you and he never has unless he had to. how could he even right now when your eyes sparkle at him like that?

there would be a final fitting later but he couldn’t resist your request.

a smile graces your lips when you see Felix approaching your form, standing behind you so you start taking pics of you both. your ivory-coloured bathrobe contrasts his so it’s a perfect combination. well, couple trends are usually matching but you like it this way. he matches your poses the way you instructed.

you feel Felix's right hand on your hip, holding you like he's done many times before. his other hand's still holding the camera that you've been focusing your attention on. you wanted to use it earlier but it would be better with Felix so you decided not to.

bringing your attention back to him, it's then you notice through the mirror how his eyes have been lingering around your sternum.

"lix?"

"hmm?" he answers, his gold-ringed hand absentmindedly squeezing your hip. you smile at how cute he is.

"look at the camera baby" a small chuckle leaves you when get flustered at being caught ogling you.

right the camera. what the hell is he thinking? you took a picture from your phone and Felix leaned in for a final pose. he thought that was it but you suddenly took his camera from his hand, placing it on the glass table beside the sink.

“we haven’t taken photos on your camera yet” you drawl, eyes looking so fascinated while looking at the camera.

“oh yeah, do you want it now?”

his hand reaches for the camera but you stop him, taking his hand instead in yours so he ends up putting his arm around you while you snap another picture.

you lean back and nuzzle Felix, allowing you to feel more of his body against yours. he freezes momentarily and the small gasp that escaped from him didn't miss your ears so you leaned back further, your ass brushing against something hard.

oh.

your plan’s been doing well it seems.

"y/n, fuck, don’t do this to me please"

he knows what you're on now, his breath increasing the more you grind back on him like you didn't hear what he just said.

"hmm?" you faux your concern, making it look like you're just trying to find a good position while still clutching your phone but of course, Felix knows better.

"not right now baby" he pleads again as his body betrays him. it didn't help that your bathrobe seems to be loosening more now too, allowing him to look at your perky nipples that are peeking from it.

you place your phone by the mirror while Felix's distracted by the sight of your boobs. you pondered if you wanna record or not but relented, sparing him with your cheeky antics this time.

pulling down his veiny hand that you're still holding, you cup your left breast with it and he squeezes out of instinct, causing you to moan shamelessly in return.

his other hand travels from your hip upwards after, pulling the robe sideways, revealing your other breast to his hungry eyes. you watch him lean in to kiss your neck from the mirror's reflection then remember that he’s got makeup on.

“lix your makeup..”

his lips were almost touching the skin when your reminder stopped him. he curses internally out of frustration because you're right. there might not be enough time later to redo his makeup so he really gotta be mindful of it.

you felt Felix straighten up, shaking his head a bit to focus. you were about to tease him but both his ringed hands are now on your bare tits, kneading and squeezing knowing how much you like the sensation of those cold rings against your warm skin.

"wish i could fuck you baby" he whispers needily, voice going deeper than it already is as he grinds his dick more against your covered ass.

"what's stopping you?" you whine, clearly so stimulated with all the stimulation from his touches and the sound of his voice.

well, nothing really is so Felix obliges and turns you around to face him. his beauty knocks your breath once again, his blonde hair in a new braid complimenting a lot with the structure of his ethereal face.

"you're so pretty you know.."

a shy smile breaks out on Felix's face at your remark, more so when your hand reaches out to tuck a few strands of his hair by his ear. you scan his face until you catch his eyes, immediately seeing the lust swimming in them with his pupils already dilating.

you prop your body by the sink and shrug off your bathrobe, causing Felix's eyes to widen as he scans your naked body.

“you’re much prettier love”

he wants to kiss you so bad, shower every part of your body with his lips but he can't. he's thinking if he should just face any scolding later since you can probably help him in the department.

you smile warmly at Felix, heart fluttering at his words but you've noticed how much he’s been holding back so you begin caressing his bare chest to return his attention to you.

teasing him crosses your mind cause you love seeing him flustered, looking so cute with the pink dusting over those lovely freckles that you cherish.

"should i mark you here lixie?" you start and the look on his face changes, a slight panic emerging in his eyes at your suggestion.

the gala’s an important event for him and his friends and even if you happen to leave a mark somewhere where it’s covered under his fit later, he can’t risk other people seeing it by accident and possibly getting the both of you in trouble.

“kidding baby” you left a tender kiss on his soft skin to ease him, reeling at his deep sigh of relief from it.

you can’t possibly do that to Felix no matter how much you want to. besides, you’d have more time after anyway so you’ll just make sure to make him feel better right now to make up for all the teasing that you've put him through.

your hands continue to roam around his toned chest, fingers brushing his nipples but you instead play with the pendant of his necklace. he hums deeply, pushing his body closer to yours so you won’t forget how hard he’s been.

poor baby.

he sighs in relief once you finally untie his navy blue bathrobe, the rest of his body naked body now exposed to your eyes. you know he's been dying to fuck you so your hands continue their journey from his chest down to his abs until they reach his swollen dick.

it’s leaking so much already and you want him in your mouth but you don’t have much time.

“help me love? it’s your fault anyways” he chuckles deeply but the laughter leaves him once you grabbed his thick cock, pumping it at once to spread his precum around.

“of course baby, i’d love to” you pepper Felix’s bare chest with light kisses, basking on his deep moans that are increasing in volume the faster you stroke his cock.

his hands hurriedly untie your bathrobe, parting your legs so he can finally fuck you. he's so close already and hasn't pleasured you much yet, something that he hates each time you have sex because of his lack of self-control.

after Felix tests your pussy with his thick finger, he positions his cock at your entrance and pushes in right away.

soft moans emit from you both once he fills you to the brim. you love the stretch of being full from Felix but you also know how it affects him a lot, his eyes shutting at how wet and warm you feel around him.

he didn't mean to roll his hips before making sure that you've adjusted to his cock but he just couldn't stop. you didn't try either, closing your legs around his waist instead, your hand holding onto his arms for balance.

"b-baby, i won't last long" he breathes out, struggling to contain himself as he continues to fuck you. he opens his eyes and now they’re fixed on your face, looking so tranced as he leans in again.

but before he gave in to kissing you, your hand was quick to pull his long hair.

"no baby.." you gasp out as you do which Felix responds to with a deep whine. he's already so immersed in fucking you, ringed hands gripping your waist so hard that you're not gonna be surprised if you find any bruises there later.

he groans in protest and you tut, though a sharp thrust coaxes a choked moan from you when Felix finds that soft spot and focuses his aim there.

“don’t wanna..ruin..your makeup..” it's light really, too subtle that you doubt anyone would even notice if it’s smudged but you don't want the both of you to get scolded later.

you're still in your right mind to stay grounded but your brain's getting cloudier when Felix continues to hit it once your back starts arching.

"fuck i hate this" he groans in frustration that he can't even kiss you. at least he'd been doing a great job so far, you look so pretty moaning his name with your hands clawing at his arms because the pleasure's becoming too much.

but Felix knows that you're also determined to not keep him here any longer.

“later hmm? want you to cum right now okay?” he shakes his head so cutely, doe eyes staring at you that your resolve almost broke.

“you first” he whines and fastens his pace, focusing on getting himself together to make sure you cum before him. you're a lot better than him when it comes to self-control but he's trying, he's been trying so hard even with your constant clenching around his cock.

his hand leaves your back to rub your clit and it took a few circles before you unravel before him. he follows your suit not long after, filling you with so much cum. your legs pull his body closer and you hug him as you both ride out your high.

smiling against Felix's bare chest, your hands are nonstop caressing his body and he honestly finds it cute. he’s smiling down at you as he runs his hand through your back to calm you down.

after a few seconds, he grabs the wet wipes from the glass table to wipe his hand before taking his special camera to take a picture of you both. your naked body against his looks amazing from this angle, even more so when you turned back to the mirror with a sly grin while laying your head against his chest.

you're both still breathless when someone's suddenly banging against the door, breaking the silence between your and Felix's exchanged breaths.

he pulls out of you quickly, causing you to whine at the lost feeling. but you didn’t get to process much when he quickly handed you a few wet wipes so you could clean up and face whoever was behind the door.

"open the door you two" the voice belonging to Chan echoes and it's strangely calm so you and Felix exchange a panicked look before hastily putting your bathrobes back on.

the door opens and a very stressed-looking Chan is looking at you both in defeat. he’s dressed already so you even feel worse for keeping Felix too long.

“come on, let's redo his makeup”

he breaks the silence when no one's saying a word. he does kinda sound stressed but you've done your best to not smudge anything on Felix's face so everything should be fine.

"no need oppa, look at him, still so flawless” you confidently smile at him and Felix just shies away both from your lovely compliment and embarrassment at Chan scrutinizing him.

the latter looks skeptical until he surveys Felix’s face before sighing in relief to find that his little brother's face looks untouched, with Felix just looking like he’s sweating normally so he didn't have to explain anything to the makeup artist.

your fingers are tracing Felix's embroidered name on his bathrobe when Chan shifts his eyes on you. he gives you a pointed look and now Felix is the one smiling in mischief.

"we’ll see you later princess"

e/n: this turned softer than i intended oml i just love him sm. i might also do another fic based on this met look of his, something of him being a fairie prince + the theme of the gala since the whole thing pissed me off sm lmao

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ryiju-muunie · 8 months ago

Text

Pools and Honey

18+ viewer discretion is advised

fem!reader/Kento Nanami Warnings: reader has a temperature kink, pool .. fondling? outdoor sex but it's in his backyard, creampie, grinding, fondling, intense sexual tension, Nanami is the consent king, praise, dilf!Nanami, there is like a twenty year age gap, Nanami is divorced and also wears glasses again :P, Yuji and Sukuna are his kids, fluff, there is plot to this porn Word count: 4857 DESC: You become the live-in maid and babysitter for the hot dilf Kento Nanami.

I have a Ko-Fi now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm super excited :3 I've already uploaded some content and I'll make sure to get you guys well-fed! And PLEASE send me requests I have no ideas!

You got a match. It had been several days since you had put your resume up on a babysitting website, in hopes of someone swiping yes on you. All you needed was somebody to say “Yes of course watch my child, you stranger!” But it wasn’t looking good. You wanted to give up and continue going to your dead-end job, giving up your dream of raising children in hopes of being a good mother someday.

But then you got a match. It was a man older than you, about his forties, with two young boys. He was polite in his message, detailing how pay would work even the boys’ temperament. They were twins, ages 7. Ryomen and Yuji. Yuji was a blessing to the world with a habit of forgetting stranger danger, whereas Ryomen seemed to be … spunky as his dad put it. You knew it was another word for a problem child. They looked adorable in their photos, although you found yourself staring more at their father than anything else.

Kento Nanami… From the way he dressed in that selfie with him and his boys, the background of a few other photos, and the pay he was offering you could tell he was rich. A rich dilf who was offering a higher salary than what you were getting at your current job. It made your mouth water thinking about how all your bills would be paid.

Then you got to read his message more. It was polite and well-structured, with good grammar. Formal, a bit too formal if you thought about it but you didn’t mind. He was looking for a live-in maid and babysitter, who could watch his children 24/7 without hesitation.

He wanted you to move in? Well not entirely. He wanted to ease into the live-in maid situation and get the boys accustomed to you. If the first meet-up didn’t work you knew there wouldn’t be any hope for the future. It wasn’t looking too grim, and you were elated at the thought of living in a big house for free with a rich older man. You shot him back a simple reply and soon the date was set to meet the Nanami’s.

It was hard to pick out what to wear and you decided on something more conservative than you’d typically go for. It was about the boys today and you wanted to make sure you didn’t scare off their father either by dressing too scandalously. You wore a big black turtleneck and some loose-fitting jeans, all to cover your figure.

Walking up the steps of his house it was hard to stare. Ivory walls that shot up off the ground and about three stories from what you could gauge. Who really needed all of that house? No one! Nonetheless, you quickly moved through the driveway and the maze of plants, approaching the front door. It was black with a large gold doorknob. Inside you heard nothing with no sign of life from the outside of the house either. But once you touched the ring doorbell, because of course what rich person doesn’t have that, you saw lights flick on. Not just lights but you heard a loud crash, followed by clambering to get to the door.

Two boys, you knew it. There was some commotion between the two of them before you heard a man’s deep and soothing voice break their tension, followed by a “Yes Dad” from the boys. God, he looked and sounded hot? You were completely and utterly done for. Dating your boss was a complete no in this field, something you knew from experience. But you couldn't help it! You had a type. Dilfs.

The door opened and you were met with a man who you soon realized was much taller than you anticipated. He was blonde, hollow cheekbones filled his face, and he stared at you with dead tired eyes. Kento, as you remembered, had on the same pair of thick aviator glasses that were perched upon his thin nose. He wore a simple outfit of a button-up shirt and some slacks, and you noticed a fancy watch on the wrist of the hand he moved to shake yours with.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he spoke politely, not bothering to gaze at you as intensely as you were staring at him. You reminded yourself to blink and you quickly returned his handshake, trying not to grip him too firmly.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you two, Mr. Nanami. I’m very excited to meet Yuji and Ryomen,” you smiled, tilting your head a bit. You mainly did that to see a bit of the inside better, and to gauge where the boys were.

You heard another loud crash and Kento retracted his hand, turning his head to find where the noise was coming from, “Speak of the devil. Boys,” he warned, his voice edging a faint shout. You heard some scrambling and you saw two of the cutest boys in the world scurry up to their father.

You could instantly tell who was who, even though they were practically identical. Yuji had wide eyes full of wonder, with a green dinosaur shirt on and pink spiky hair pushed downwards against his forehead. His cheeks were plump and fat, bouncing upwards into a smile when he saw you. Then there was Ryomen. He looked agitated, with his hair spiked upwards and a plain black shirt adorned on his small body. He looked at you for a moment and his eyes widened before he averted his gaze quickly.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” you turned your attention to the both of them, bending down and resting your hands on your knees to meet their eye level. You spoke your name and then smiled, first at the boy who wasn’t looking at you, “You’re Ryomen, right? I like your hair. My brother likes to make his all messy like that too.”

The little boy looked back at you with a sheepish expression, before nodding, “S’nothing,” was all he said, looking over to his brother. It was as if he expected Yuji to be the center of attention once you were done talking to him and you felt your heart squeeze. You knew why. Problem children never got looked at the same as well-behaved children, especially if the two were side by side. From the way Ryomen looked at you, he knew you’d become busy with Yuji. He was always cast aside, compared to his brother, probably even ridiculed for it. All he needed was attention. And it didn’t seem Yuji cared if you paid attention to him either way, as he was now busy trying to get his father to pick him up.

“Yuji, why don’t you say hi to your babysitter?” Kento asked blankly, his voice remaining flat as he spoke.

Yuji glanced at you and waved, smiling widely, “Hi!” Before turning back to his dad and making grabby hands.

You smiled and waved back, turning your head to Ryomen again, “Is your favorite color black? Mine’s dark red, it’s kinda similar if you think about it,” you spoke calmly and delicately, in a way you knew he hadn’t experienced very often.

He nodded, cracking a toothy smile, “Mhm. And green. I like green … cause it’s like leaves,” Ryomen motioned to the plants behind you.

Kento cleared his throat and you gazed back at him, “Why don’t you come inside? Make yourself comfortable.” You nodded and followed suit, coming inside.

Yuji and Ryomen played on the floor, wrestling around or using their action figures. You sat on the couch a few feet away from their gorgeous father, who spoke occasionally to you. You thought it would go a bit differently, with more questions on your qualifications or your flexibility. But instead, he seemed to be observing how you acted with his children. The boys seemed instantly comfortable, Yuji it wasn’t surprising, but for Ryomen, you felt slightly surprised. From the way he was described, you were expecting a boy who was too bratty to even look at you respectfully. Instead, he was polite and soft-spoken. Every time he accidentally stepped on your foot or chucked a toy in your direction he’d apologize quickly and go back to doing his activity, nothing malicious about him.

“They’re cute,” you murmured, getting lost in just watching them be kids. God your ovaries just hurt at the sight of them, it made you wonder why it was taking you so long to find someone to settle down with. Well maybe…

You shook your head. No. You couldn’t date your boss, especially with his kids in the mix. Not to mention, he probably had a wife. This big of a house, and with his looks? There was no way he was single. He had to be married and you let out a sigh as you accepted this dilf was out of reach.

“They’re very comfortable with you. With the last babysitter, they were too shy,” Kento nodded as he spoke, using his left hand to motion to his kids. You glanced and your heart sped up. He didn’t have a ring. His hand was completely bare aside from the watch. Was he actually single? There was no way in hell he was single.

“I’m glad. Ryomen’s such a sweetheart and so is Yuji, of course,” a small smile bit on your lips as you watched the two boys wrestle around on the floor without a care in the world. God they were cute and god did your uterus hurt.

“People don’t typically say that about Ryomen,” he sighed, pressing his index finger against the middle of his glasses to push them up, “I’m glad to hear something different for once.”

It was sad but you knew it was true. Before you could reply, Kento spoke again, “I think I want to hire you right away as a full-time maid, if you’re willing to accept. I have a good feeling about this.”

You quickly learned the status of your boss's romance life after overhearing a few too many phone calls. He was divorced with a wife who had a thing for younger men. They’d often talk on the phone in a way that made your skin crawl. So tense and so passive-aggressive. You picked up the fact that she must’ve cheated or done something to push him over the edge, but none of it was confirmed.

The boys would spend every weekend with their mother and whatever boyfriend she had then. He didn’t mind being alone with you, he seemed to enjoy it. Kento would speak casually about a book he was reading, or just about something random that had happened to him that day. As if he was a friend or polite coworker, rather than your actual boss. It didn’t help either that your attraction for him grew. Every time his hand would accidentally brush against yours or his eyes would graze against your skin, you felt yourself become as light as a feather.

You wanted to feel his cold hands rake up and down your body, grabbing you in ways you knew he never would. You wanted to feel him become hard underneath your touch and revel in the fact you could make such a man bend to your will. But you had no hopes of him ever liking you like that. His glances were long, sure, but very PG. You never caught him once staring at your ass or a bit of cleavage through your shirt. His eyes were always on your face, with a polite faint smile ghosting his lips.

Today was Saturday. The two young boys were gone and it was you and Kento alone, sitting on his long white couch. He was a few feet across from you, legs casually crossed as he read some book you weren’t too familiar with. It was growing increasingly hot in the room and you couldn’t tell if it was your hormones or the fact the AC hadn’t been lowered in a few hours. It was almost summer so the fact it was getting warmer wasn’t too surprising. It was maybe mid-afternoon, with the sun shining through his back screen door.

You had eyed it for a long time before even asking him about the pool in the back. He didn’t typically use it as you soon learned, instead opting to sit and read. Always read. But it felt different. You tugged at the collar of your shirt and made some comment about how it was becoming too hot to handle.

Kento’s eyes glanced from one of the pages to your face, before setting down the book on his lap, “You’re hot?” He raised an eyebrow as he spoke.

You nodded, “I might grab some ice to eat if that’s okay,” you motioned to the kitchen in the other room, separated by a half wall.

“You can go swimming,” he suggested, nodding his head over to the glass door, “It’ll cool you down.” A different look filled your boss’s eye as he then added, “I’ll join you.”

With that, Kento stood up and headed upstairs to his room. The way he looked at you wasn’t the same as it had always been. You couldn’t tell if it was just a playful glance or perhaps a lustful gleam filling his eyes. You couldn’t tell if he wanted this evening to turn into something more than just a casual swim in his pool.

You weren’t sure which bathing suit to wear. You had a suit you’d wear in front of your family, it was a red one-piece that practically covered everything. But if it was going where you thought it was going you didn’t want to cover up. Instead, you opted for a pink two-piece with ribbons and bows on the sides. It was cute and innocent, the total opposite of your mind at that moment. God you could just picture his big hands on your ass, grinding you against the bulge in his pants while you two stayed in the water. It turned you on to think of how warm he’d be in contrast to the icy cool water against your skin. And you hoped he’d stare at you with some ounce of perversion in his gaze. Some ounce of pure unbridled lust.

Once you finished changing and put your hair up into something you considered fashionable, you made your way onto the back patio. It didn’t take you very long to find Kento sitting poolside, with his legs in the water. God just the sight of his back was enough to make the tender spot between your legs melt. He was toned and muscular, practically sculpted by god. You wanted so desperately to run your hands down his back and up his front, just tracing each muscle to feel him squirm.

“Kento,” you began, closing the screen door behind you. He turned his head and let his dull eyes rake up your body ever so slowly. There was a new kind of tension that wasn’t there the day you first met. It was as if he was looking at you from a whole new lens. It was as if he finally thought he had a chance.

“I like it. Is it new?” He inquired, motioning with his right hand for you to sit beside him. You followed quietly, making sure to keep a few inches of space in between you two as you perched beside the pool and felt the cold water run up your legs.

You bit your lip at the sensation of prickling cold and closed your eyes. Who wasn’t into a bit of temperature play, right? You had completely forgotten to answer Nanami, getting lost in the sensation of cold water against your skin. The mixture of that and the fact you could practically feel the warmth radiating off of your boss made you wetter beyond belief.

He cleared his throat and you looked at him through rows of thick eyelashes, “Hm?” Your head lazily tilted to the side, with a hazy blush forming at the temples of your cheeks. He was godly. His chest was made from the finest of marble and cut just to suit your perverted gaze. It made him seem unnaturally beautiful if that was even possible.

“I like your bathing suit,” Kento repeated, with his voice turning to a silky low tone. You could practically hear him groaning and moaning in your ear.

You nodded and turned away, staring down into the blue water. It was so clear you could see the bottom below you, which was painted a stark white. You could also see Kento’s legs, which were (just like his back) completely toned and rippled with muscles.

“I like yours,” you replied before dipping down into the water. You bit back a moan at the incredibly cold feeling shooting up your back and in between your legs, gripping onto the edge to steady yourself. Now if it just got incredibly hot… god that would be perfect. You looked up at him with a sheepish grin, noting the fact his eyes were completely glued on you. Not your face though.

Kento hadn’t had a chance to fully take in your form, seeing as you only wore baggy clothes in front of him. And now he had a perfect view of your breasts and it turned you on from how he stared. You could tell he wanted to fondle them and make them his. Bite along the skin and suck your nipples until they are sensitive to the touch. You bit your bottom lip again, feeling a throb pulsate through your swollen clit. Just any sort of friction would’ve been nice at that moment.

He hopped down into the water a few moments later, keeping his distance. It was as if he stood too close he’d lose all control and do something he’d regret in the morning. But you wanted so badly for him to lose control and fuck you senseless in the water. You wanted him to take your wet pussy and brand it with his cock until he was milked dry.

“Thank you,” Kento whispered, eyes staring up into the sky which was beginning to turn an orange color in the distance, “The boys really like you. And I really like you… is that odd to you?” He looked back at you with an intense gaze.

You shook your head, “I like you. It’s not weird. I…” You couldn’t say it. You couldn’t confess that you had been having those thoughts to him. You couldn’t tell your boss you wanted him to fuck you. You couldn’t.

He took one slow step towards you, big hands coming and resting against the small of your back, “Tell me. Does this make you uncomfortable?” His voice was a low purr, with his eyes boring holes into yours.

You felt your cheeks heat up and prickle a warm shade of pink, “...No.”

“Can I continue?” The blonde man tilted his head to the side, begging to inch closer to your perfect body. His hands moved from your back to grip onto your side, molding against your love handles and massaging them with a circular motion.

You couldn’t help yourself and you nodded quickly, bringing your hands to rest on his chest, “Please,” was all you had to whisper, because then his hands moved from your love handles to cradle your ass. One hand rubbed large circles while the other squeezed and prodded at it, just to get a rise out of you. You inhaled sharply and groaned into the sensation, pressing yourself against his stiff body, feeling the tent in his swimsuit press against your front.

“You tease me… walking around with those outfits, to make me wonder what body you have underneath,” Kento cooed, resting his chin against your head, “I could fuck you into apologizing, hm? I could make you sorry for teasing me like that if I was mean…”

A whimper came tumbling out of your mouth just at his words. God his voice was heavenly. You wanted him to whisper sweet nothings into your ear as he fucked you from behind, forcing your back into an arch and pulling you by your hair.

“You like that, I’m not surprised,” you could practically hear the smile biting at his lips as he pulled you back by your hips. He stared down at your face before pulling one of his hands from your lower half to touch your cheek, “May I kiss you?”

Your legs melted then and there. What a gentleman. What a fucking gentleman. Every single time he asked, even when he could gauge the answer from the look on your dumbstruck face, he asked. It made you hornier to just think he cared about how you felt in that moment. He cared about you in a way that wasn’t just sexual. I mean he entrusted you with his kids 24/7 of course he cared!

“Kiss me,” you whispered, resting your hand against his own on your face. A nurturing smile formed on his soft mouth and you felt it press against your own. It was chaste and sweet, just to test the waters. But it didn’t stay that way for long.

He pressed shallow kisses against your lips just to build up the sensation before englonging them ever so slightly. They got longer and longer until his mouth wasn’t moving from yours, but instead molding to become one. He sucked against your bottom lip and kissed you with passion. It was delicate and gentle, but you could tell he wanted to go crazy. You could tell he was holding back and it drove you crazy!

Kento tilted his head and slowly deepened the kiss, bringing your bodies closer together. His hands were underneath your thighs, pulling you up until your feet were no longer touching the bottom of the pool. Instead of bringing you to sit on the edge of the pool as you thought he was going to do, he put his leg in between yours and pressed you against his knee. Friction.

You moaned into the kiss and began to rock your hips back and forth, anything to get off to elevate the throbbing in your pussy. The man’s hands didn’t stay PG for long, one staying on your ass to prop you up as the other moved to untie your swimsuit top from behind. You needed to cum, it was a primal urge in your gut. You had to cum, you couldn’t stand not being able to anymore. And you needed to cum with Kento, on Kento, anywhere.

“May I?” Kento asked, looking down at you as he messed with the string of your bikini top. You nodded and moaned out an exacerbated please and he followed suit.

Your swimsuit top was off within a few seconds and he didn’t take long to attack one of your nipples, sticking your breast inside his mouth. He knew exactly what to do, using his tongue to roll over the nub and his teeth to grade against the sensitive area. You didn’t even realize you liked having your nipples sucked until he just … did it.

“F-fuck… me m-m..fuck me pl..please,” you breathed out, aching for some form of release. You had never needed it this bad in your entire life. It was starting to hurt from how badly you wanted him to fuck you. You wanted his girthy cock to stretch your holes and pump you with load after a load of his warm cum.

Kento didn’t have to be told twice. You found yourself now perched on the side of the pool, dazed and horny as he pulled himself out to sit beside you. The concrete ground was hard against your ass but you weren’t on there for long. He grabbed you delicately and picked you up, cradling you close to his chest. It was almost familiar, leaning your head against his pecs as he walked over to one of the many couches on the patio.

“Out here…?” You murmured as he set you on your stomach, prepping a pillow underneath you beforehand.

You felt a large and hard hand rub a circle against your ass cheek, “I have a fence,” was all he said as he pulled down your swimsuit bottoms and tossed them to the side. You heard some shuffling then a warm and bulbous head pressed against your slit, “May I?”

“P-please,” you whined, bracing yourself for the stretch. Nanami put both hands on your hips and slowly inserted himself. He was gentle and careful, stopping every few seconds to check in to make sure you weren’t hurting. The way he filled you out made you almost cum then and there.

“I’ll start slow so you can adjust to th-” He had begun but you promptly cut him off with another whine.

“No… just go,” you turned your head to look at him with a pout forming on your lips, “I’m beyond ready, Kento.”

He blinked a few times, and an air of surprise hinted on his face. He hadn’t expected you to be so eager to be railed by his cock, but he shouldn’t have been surprised. Your stares were obvious from the beginning. You bit your lip and stared back at him, just waiting for him to begin.

Kento sighed and nodded, “Very well,” was all he said. He reached down, one hand on your hip and the other grabbing one of yours, “I’ll start now.”

He patted your hip and then began. You didn’t have time to brace yourself as he started rough. His hips snapped into your cunt and you felt his tip kiss your G-spot within seconds. You tensed and curled your back inwards, feeling the sensation grow with every thrust. Nanami was just a god at everything he did, easily fucking you as if it was second nature. His cock thrust in and out of you in perfect rhythm, plapping against your ass loudly. But you both didn’t seem to care.

“F-fuck!” You gasped, burying your head against the couch cushion, “A-ah.. I- mm ha- f-f-..fuck.” Not exactly a sentence but it was music to his ears. You couldn’t help it. You’d never been one to be loud typically when you were fucked, but this was different. There wasn’t any build-up and god was it just better. The fact he was going and going and going, without a care for how sensitive you were turned you on beyond belief.

Nanami’s hand brushed against your hip and pressed down at the small of your back, pushing your back from curling inwards to arching back again, “There we go… good girl. I want you to stay arched for me, okay pretty girl?” You whimpered and nodded a few times, looking back to see him intensely staring at your form. He rubbed small circles into your back and held you there, keeping you arched for his big cock.

He continued to fuck you, ramming his girthy length deep in your cunt, practically asking you to squirt down his shaft. And god you were so close to cumming. You hadn’t even noticed but Kento was getting close. You began to tell from how his thrusts got sloppier, or how his hand pressed deeper into your back, forcing your arch lower and lower.

“Fuck…” He breathed out, leaning forward to rest his head against your mid back. You felt his ball smack against your cunt, with his body pressing down against yours as you two became one. He could tell you were close, muttering, “You’re going to cum… huh?”

You let out a loud moan as a response, with your hips jerking up. It felt so good to the point where you couldn’t control your bodily movements anymore. Kento sat back up, groaning and then stiffening. You didn’t realize what was happening until you felt a warm load shoot deep into your pussy, causing you to cum as well. Load after load shot into your walls and coated you in white, milking him completely dry. His hand pressed into your back again, keeping you arched as he rode out his high.

Kento slowly came to a stop, letting go of your hand to hold your hips delicately. He used his fingers to brush along the skin and rub small circles on the areas he grabbed or pressed too hard, looking you over with an intense gaze.

“I…” You slowly began, turning your head to glance sheepishly at your boss. He looked down at you, breathing quickly. He blinked a few times, with his expression softening when he began to read the tone of your face. “I should quit, shouldn’t I?” You murmured, eyes fluttering close.

The blonde let out a sigh followed by a breathless laugh, “I thought that was going differently,” he mused, before clearing his throat and adding, “I don’t mind if you quit as long as you stay in my house … with me.”

You opened your eyes, “Of course, Kento. Of course.

656 notes · View notes

priestessame · 27 days ago

Text

❁ From the depths of your very soul, I seek the purest devotion ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

🦋Rafayel x Princess! Reader🦋

❁ IIतबाही पक्की है आग तू मैं पान�� II ❁

. ❁ AFAB fem reader, fem pronouns ❁ Minors DNI .

Warnings: Sub/switch Rafayel, dom reader, Oral (receiving), teasing, overstimulation, praise, dirty talk, riding, Food play? very bad things done to a grape, penetrative sex, Master x captive play?????? Idk I have gone mad after the memory.

Malini held the perfume pot under your damp hair, humming her strange tune as the rich fumes curled around your chamber. Her fingers slid through your hair carefully, making you feel drowsier than ever.

It was well past evening and the orange sky had started to bleed through your percolated windows. Your laziness was nothing short of audacious, if you had any care for discipline, you would have been hurrying to get ready for the rituals in the castle. But right now you couldn't be bothered to even drape your robes correctly.

You could practically see how the high priest would be pacing in the prayer hall, fists clenched with frustration, quivering lips murmuring on how the heir had no regard for tradition.

You weren't supposed to keep the Gods waiting today.

Gods, you scoffed under your breath, surely they were too sleepy themselves to be bothered with all of this.

Nushkat tried her best to get some reaction from you, her bangles jingling as she comically imitated the high priest, sending another one of your handmaidens giggling as they set down your jewellery. The jewels glimmered in every shade under the sun, carved ivory and polished gold. But nothing appealed to you today.

It was difficult to get the princess excited about something. Not the gold nor the small army of handmaidens you couldn't bother to remember the names of, not even the glorious festival waiting for you outside.

If the princess, the Noor of the empire was bored. She was simply bored.

"Your Highness." One of your handmaidens tried, "The moon will be visible soon."

You could hear the scare in her voice, eyes pleading with you to finally start getting dressed.

It was a heavy responsibility to get you there on time, no one in the kingdom could break their fast until the palace rituals were completed, and there were no palace rituals without the heir so right now the princess was just starving the people because she couldn't be bothered to get dressed.

You waved Malini to stop drying your hair. "So it is." You hummed out, finding interest in the perfume pot now, opening it to find a small flame tickling over the carmofur.

"I hold no interest in these so-called Gods and their boring tales." you said aloud, "If they were even real, to begin with."

There was an odd silence following your words.

Your thoughts were too arrogant, practically beseeching the old gods to rain down their wrath on you. Your company exchanged uncomfortable looks while you smiled at the reaction. In a sadistic way, you liked putting them in such predicaments. Agreeing with the princess was invoking the fury of gods and disagreeing with her was... disagreeing with the princess.

Nushkat was the first to speak, "But Your Highness, the festival isn't all that boring." She said playfully.

You arched an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

The girl giggled, "I mean the story of course, about what happened between the Sea god and the princess all those years before! All everyone talks about is how the princess saved the Sea God and all that bogus about generosity and virtue and whatnot." Nushkat continued, rolling her eyes.

That was the story bludgeoned into your head as well, the tale of ebb and flow, where the old sea god drained of his powers is found by a kind princess who nursed him back to strength and he had blessed her lineage with prosperity. That was the festival you were supposed to be celebrating today.

"But what the Sea God did wasn't all that virtuous to begin with."

hmm

"Shut up Nushkat," Malini chastised her through her own blush, "Don't speak of such vulgarities before the princess."

Nushkat scowled, her almond eyes finding yours again, "They can't be vulgar if they're in our scriptures can they?"

"There's nothing such in our scriptures." Another one retorted, she used the end of her shawls to cover her mouth, eyebrows knotted with anger as if just the mention of the story itself was blasphemous.

Your fingers trailed over the open fire, the hungry flames trying to lick your fingers desperately.

"I swear!" Nushkat hissed out, "They even painted them! I know they keep them on the higher shelves of the royal archives."

You withdrew your hand before the flames got to char your fingertips, Malini opened her mouth, but you cut her to it, "Tell me more."

Nushkat grinned, happy to have finally gotten the princess's attention. She scurried towards you at once, plopping down on your duvet.

Her fingers dug into your shoulders, "When the princess found the God, she was moved to tears at his state. The lone sea god sat writing on the sand, his veshti had rolled up and on his bare skin she saw his scales, translucent and blue like they were made from moonstone." Nushkat picked up one of your earrings to emphasize, the coral-colored stone rippling in the light, "she saw them lacing up his back, and trailing down his thighs, his body taut with pain."

"With the blood moon rising, the tide had turned so wretched, that it drained the god of his powers. Now until the red moon would be high in the sky, the god would turn mortal, plagued with everything a human is. As the god turned mortal for the night, the winds became too cold for him, the tides too strong for him to swim back, the sharp reefs cut into his skin and he felt hunger for the first time."

Someone in the back gave a dramatic gasp and Nushkat tapped your chin lightly, "So when he saw the princess, her beauty captivated him so much, that he begged her to relieve him. To do something, anything to quell his maddening thirst."

Her words caused one of the girls to stumble over her skirts, and another one crawled closer, "And did she agree?" She asked, her voice bated, all too consumed by the scandalous story Nushkat was weaving.

You rolled your eyes, there was no head no tail to the story, why was the sea god suddenly squirming with desire on the beach? And what kind of princess just went wandering around alone at night?

But regardless, the prospect was intriguing to you. A God begging a human princess for relief, you thought, just imagining the scene sent a strange thrill down your spine.

Nushkat just might find herself cradling a pearl necklace back for finally striking the princesses' interest.

"The princess sliced her palm on his scales and fed him her own blood, her fingers ghosted over his taunt skin and he hitched under her touch,"

"And as they-" Nushkat suddenly stopped mid-sentence, her eyes glazing past your face with a new-found stiffness. Beside you, Malini made a small sound, and the other two scurried to cover their heads. The sudden change in your handmaidens' mannerisms told you who had shown up.

Rafayel leaned against the arched doorframe, hand parting the beaded curtain open, "Her Highness is late." He said simply. You look up innocently, not bothering to shift from your duvet. Admiring how lovely he looked in the amber robes you had tailored for him. As he moved, they fell over his body like water on a stone sculpture.

"I must have finally worn the high priest's patience." You said, "For him to send his favorite minion to fetch me."

Rafayel's face crinkled in a smile, "Who is he to command her highness?" His violet-blue eyes finding yours, "And who am I to fetch you?"

Your claim on him was brazen and shameless. Anyone who saw him could tell that the magician was the favorite toy of the vain, indulgent princess. He walked through the palace draped in clothes they knew came from your chambers, he had bells that rang every time he walked along the stone-cut halls and henna markings in your hand that showed crimson against his pale skin.

"leave us." you said, Malini shuffled on her feet, "B-but your Highness, you're not ready yet."

You gave her a bored look and she dared not repeat herself. The women excused themselves at once, wandering eyes sweeping past Rafayel's frame. Their footsteps echoed as they hurried outside the chamber.

Rafayel crossed his hand over his chest, "That Nushkat needs to keep her nose out of the Royal archives."

"Still you interrupted her story."

"How terrible of me." He mused, "But, Your Highness will get to hear a hundred stories about the sea God at the ritual." He said, his amber flame erupted on his fingers, dancing coyly for a moment before vanishing.

You groaned, "I wanted to know how that particular story ended." you said, rolling over so that you were lying down on your back.

It was a smart move to send him to get you. You'd give the high priest that, maybe that old geezer wasn't all that useless. He knew well that the only way to get the princess to show up was to pique her interest. Dangled a toy before a cat so she crept out of the corner. Plus, no matter your boredom, you just found it hard to deny Rafayel anything.

Somewhere you enjoyed the power you had on him, dressing him, feeding him, playing with him like he was just another one of your dolls. And he let you. That was really the catch, wasn't it? Rafayel never said no to your whimsies. He'd let you dress him in your favorite shades, let you tie little bells on his anklets. And when you'd want to paint, he'd let you trail his back in henna designs.

He gestured towards the robes laid out for you and you shrugged, "You sent all my maids running, I have no one to dress me."

A knowing smile played on his lips, he ran a hand over the blush-colored robes, the fabric seemed to seep through his fingers like water "Should I dress you then?"

This was too easy. You pushed yourself off the duvet finally at least sitting up.

You tilted your head gesturing him to go ahead.

Rafayel's cheeks were dusted pink, his fingers diligently pleating your robes, not daring to meet your gaze.

Your fingers trailed down his chest playfully, only ghosting over his skin as he figured the drape of the fabric.

"How do you think the sea god felt?' You asked, eyes not leaving his face.

"To find yourself at the mercy of a beautiful princess?" he said, "I can hardly imagine."

Your actions were already getting him worked up. Your fingers trailed down his tone chest, peeling the thin layer of silk so you could slip your palm up against his torso. You could see how deep his blush went, a ragged breath falling from his lips as his translucent scales peeked over his skin. They appeared every time you touched him, sprouting randomly, surfacing over his skin like little diamonds. You tugged him closer, blowing on the ones of his neck, making him quiver.

"Court magician," You hummed, "you're the one who creates flames, then why do you hiss like I scorched you?"

He pulled his doe eyes to meet yours, head tilting his a little. The heat in his gaze was masked with something playful yet dangerous, he took your wrist lightly, stopping you. "Your Highness", he warned, pressing your palm against the swell of his cheek, "You're being inappropriate." The slight pout on his face, the furrow of his brow wanted you to have him kneeling.

But you huffed, retracting your fingers, being obedient for once. Rafayel continued to measure the fabric around your waist. As he tucked it in his fingertips brushed against your bare midriff, but he seemingly brushed off the touch, before reaching to adjust the pleats across your chest. You remained quiet as he did, eyes gazing at the thin sheen of sweat lining his neck and the little scales that refused to melt back into his skin.

For a second, his fingers lingered on your waist slightly longer, thumb fanning over the smooth skin of your stomach before he could catch himself. You watched his eyelids flutter, his feverish eyes finally met yours and you knew you had him exactly where you wanted him, so devoted and so lovely, like he could drown in reverence to you.

He just stared at you with that lovesick gaze as his fingers slipped under the fabric of your blouse, pushing it up to slide his fingers under your breasts. You jumped at his sudden touch, a faint blush covering your face as he continued to get bolder. Thumb grazing along your hardening nipple,

You took in a ragged breath, arching a brow "You're supposed to dress me Rafayel."

Something about him was so insatiable to you, "Didn't Your Highness want to know how the story ended?"

You pushed him against the duvet and he went willingly, his arms wrapped around your waist pulling you to straddle him. The moon had brought in a pleasant coolness, the midnight hue of the sky leaving the lamps in your chamber to be the only light.

The low flame caught gold skittering over his bare chest, his eyes wandering shyly as you traced your fingers over his torso. From his chest to the slight dip of his waist.

You cupped his face, drawing him closer, "Great sea God." you hummed out, running your thumb over his cheekbone, "What has this wretched moon done to you?"

He drew in a breath, taking your wrist to leave a featherlight kiss "I'm weak and tired, princess." He whispered against your skin, "The moon has drained me of all my strength." He continues, tracing his lips along your arm, leaving a quick kiss to taste your skin, "I couldn't even push you off even if I wanted to."

The way his mouth felt on you burned into your skin. You slung your hands around his neck, smiling at how red the tips of his ears went. His throat wobbled as you parted your lips over his neck. "How tragic" you whispered, nipping at him. The gentlest of pull from your teeth left immediate crimson marks down his neck, he moaned against your touch, fingers gripping your waist tighter.

His fingers dug into your sides, hitching up your skirts and pressing you to grind down harder on his erection. They trailed from your hips to your bare breasts again, thumbs twirling around your sensitive nipples. You dragged your core against him, leaving a trail of slick on his amber-gold robes.

But you kept drawing backward as he tried to kiss you, his violet eyes narrowing with frustration, pretty lips pulled in a soft 'o'.

"Your Highness," He complained, annoyed fingers pinching down on your breasts. "In the story, the princess was very generous to the God."

You chuckled, "I favor you too much." You said, reaching over to pluck a grape from the fruit plate beside your duvet.

You pressed it to his lips and he dug into it willingly, lips parting over the grape in your hand, tongue flicking out to leave a kittenish lick on your fingers. He held it between his lips as the juice dribbled down his chin and you closed your own lips over it, using your tongue to push it deeper in his mouth.

It rolled sloppily between your tongues. You could taste the sweetness of the fruit between the panting. He pulled you closer, moaning into your mouth, arms around your waist pressing you against him. Your breasts grazed against his gilded chest, the gold deliciously cold against your feverish skin.

His cock felt painfully hard, you had to fight the urge to just slip the blush tip in your mouth and feel his pre-cum against your tongue. But you just couldn't deny the way your core was throbbing anymore. A soft gasp left his mouth as you laced your fingers through his, pinning them on either side of his head. His cock kept slipping from your arousal, the tip briefly pressing into your clit, as you rubbed your folds along the length.

He gasped helplessly as you slipped in the tip, before lifting yourself off entirely.

"P-please." He gasped, shaking from the restraint. His doe eyes looked at you yearningly, "I want to feel you, please-"

"Just look at you," you said, bottoming down on his girth feeling him twitch and throb desperately. He bit his lower lip, hair matted to his forehead from the sweat. How could you not tease him? Especially when he was making that divine face.

"Should I just..." You said, hooking your finger around his necklace, jerking him closer. "chain you in my chamber?" His eyes widened, breath hitching from the conviction with which you had said it.

"Y-your Highness." He drew in a sharp breath as you held him close by the jewels. Close enough to feel his breath on your skin, but pulling away the moment he leaned in for a kiss.

"Keep you here as my pet?" You finally sank down, his balls slapping up against your ass. He jerked up from the sudden movement, hands flying to grab your waist. Your pace grew desperate as you fucked yourself on his cock, squeezing down on his girth until his face contorted from the pleasure. Arching your back just so his tip pressed in the right spot and his abs dragged deliciously against your clit as you rode him. His look of submission made you roll your hips harder, bounce on him until it hurt from friction. His hands grabbed at your waist weakly, trying to keep himself from squirming. But the way sunk down on him had him seeing stars.

His jaw sagged lightly as you continued using him the way you liked, your movements rough, forcing him to bottom into you. You jerked his necklace again, pulling him towards you so your eyelashes brushed against the flush on his cheeks "You belong to me now, sea God." You whispered, sinking down his cock as he trembled from the overstimulation, "Your body is mine to command."

"Princess, if you move like that, I'll c-" He tries, voice choking as you orgasm, walls pressing down uncontrollably around him. That's what finally sends him over the edge, you feel his cock twitch as he cums inside you, filling you until his cum is trailing down your inner thigh.

You slide off him, as his cock softens, slipping out of you. You plop down beside him, the high from the orgasm washing over your body. You feel his arms around you immediately, crawling over you and caging you in a lover's embrace.

You giggled as he kissed down your form, placing hot kisses on your breasts, halting only over your stomach. His fingers dug into the plushness of your thighs spreading you to open to admire his work.

"You're highness, you're all dirty." he mused, eyes still hazy with desire. The pads of his thumb parting your folds, mewling praises. He leaned down, his scales luminant under the moonlight. Just the sight of him buried between your legs, had you squeezing your thighs around his neck.

"Such a pretty cunt," he purred, hot breath fanning over your core. He pressed fleeting kisses on your messy folds making you squirm under his touch, fingers digging to his violet locks, gleaming azure in the lamp-light.

You yanked him up slightly, forcing him to meet your eyes. His mouth latched on to your clit, not breaking eye-contact, his tongue felt smiting hot, making you squelch as he ate you out. You pulled at his hair harder, grinding yourself against his mouth. Rafayel's grip around your thighs tightened, holding you in place. He felt himself grow hard again, dragging his cock along the duvet to get some friction.

"Does this please you, your Highness?" His asked innocently, tongue flat against your throbbing slit. "Such a greedy thing." He snarked suddenly finding his voice. His tone edged with something darker as he fell deeper into his desire.

"It'll just lap up anything I offer" He says, a smile playing on his lips as he started to slip his fingers in you. His digits curving to dig into that one spot he knew so well.

"Rafayel? what-" your voice trailed off as you felt what he pressed up against your entrance. The cold skin a sudden change from his warm mouth. He pressed the grape into you shamelessly, coating it in your slick as he rolled it over your folds.

"Look at you, "He cooed out, "So fucking hungry." Digging it deeper as he sucks on your clit. Your fingers dug into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. Your grip tightened painfully as you neared your release, mouth slacking open from the pleasure, "R-rafayel" you gasped out, and he groaned as you called his name, tossing the grape and slipping his tongue between your folds to feel you clamp down as you came.

He pulled away, your arousal coating his chin, a thin string of slick connecting you as you pulled his face closer tasting yourself on his tongue. You moaned through the kiss, your grip on yourself slipping. Your entire body felt excruciatingly hot, clouding your mind with a desperate need to feel more of him. It was messy the way his fingers went grabbing to feel your soft breasts as you reached for his hardening cock, aligning it with your opening again.

Again again, again, you wanted him again.

No matter how many times he entered you, The stretch alone made you curl your toes. He was a tumble of flustered sounds, as he pushed his leaky tip inside, practically purring at at how warm you felt around him. His thumb brushed over your sensitive clit.

You were right, despite his mastery over flames, it was always you that scorched him. His fingers linked through yours as pressed into you deeper, the tip sitting snugly before he dragged it out, almost slipping out before slamming it back hilt deep.

"You're taking me - s-so well." He panted out, eyes pinned on how you sucked him in. You yelped as he pulled you back into himself, the slick trailing down your leg as he continued to fuck into you. Your thoughts were far too consumed with the pleasure, slamming bak into him so he didn't stop his delicious pace.

"Didn't you want me chained here mistress?" he whispered, "Keep me here, so i could only please you?" You bit your tongue to keep yourself from snapping back, giving him a bruised look. He was just treating you like some common cocksleeve. But you didn't want him to stop and tease you, not when you felt the pleasure of another orgasm right at the back of you throat.

You fisted into the robes under you, crumpling the fine pressed silk, as he continued to split you open.

"Your highness! You're ruining your clothes," Rafayel purred out, pulling your wrists back as he thrust into you. It angled him deeper, and you threw your head back, the lewd slapping sounds echoing out in your chamber.

The coil in your stomach snapped, your wrists slipping from his grip. And you sprawled forward unto your duvet, cunt spasming around his girth. You felt his swollen and hot his cock felt as he came inside you again, refusing to pull out. He felt so good, his length curving up, moulding your walls to his shape.

The warmth of the room hung around you and you buried your face in the peach-pink robes. Rafayel's voice was playful, humming against the nape of your neck, still buried deep into you,

"Would your Highness like to be dressed now?"

Don't actually fuck around with fruit it will give you infections xoxo. Reader here just has an all powerful magical princess pussy.

#lads rafayel #lads mc #reader x rafayel #lnds rafayel #rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel smut #rafayel x you #rafayel x reader #rafayel x y/n #rafayel x mc

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svt-luna · 2 months ago

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ᡴꪫ ⋆ VOGUE: IN THE BAG ࣪ ! ˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ ─── now playing…

synopsis: Luna from SEVENTEEN reveals her handbag essentials to British Vogue, as we take a look inside her packed Miu Miu bag.

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ more interviews

The set was nothing short of breathtaking— minimalistic yet artfully arranged to evoke both luxury and comfort. Soft, muted lighting fell across a chic cream-colored couch where Luna sat, the sophisticated backdrop blending warm tones of beige and earthy gold with polished metallic accents. The aesthetic was undeniably high-class, with strategically placed designer books and a hint of greenery to soften the otherwise sleek modern atmosphere.

It was a perfect blend of Luna's effortlessly elegant persona and the refined brand image of British Vogue.

Luna herself exuded understated glamour. Her outfit was the epitome of elegant chic: a fitted, ivory-colored blouse with puffed, slightly structured sleeves that cinched perfectly at her wrists, paired with high-waisted tailored black trousers that flattered her lithe frame. Her hair fell in gentle waves, cascading just below her shoulders, and her makeup was soft and radiant, allowing her natural beauty to shine through. Her entire look screamed polished, confident, and effortlessly cool— a perfect reflection of her status as both a musical sensation and a fashion icon.

Resting beside her on the couch was her bag— a stunning tan suede Beau bag by Miu Miu. Luna was, after all, an ambassador for the luxury brand, and the bag was a signature piece from one of their latest collections. The bag's structured shape was both modern and classic, the suede giving it a touch of soft texture against its angular design. But what made it distinctly ‘Luna’ was the collection of colorful keychains and chains adorning the bag’s handles.

There was a cute little bunny keychain, a charm in the shape of a letter J, and a splash of vibrant colors from beaded tassels and chains. It was like a glimpse into her playful personality, blending seamlessly with her refined fashion sense.

Luna shifted slightly in her seat, her soft smile widening as she looked directly into the camera. With an air of confidence and warmth, she began the video with a gentle tone, her British accent immediately noticeable— polished and cool.

“Hello, British Vogue, this is SEVENTEEN’s Luna,” she began, her voice soft yet clear, carrying a natural rhythm that was effortlessly captivating, “and this is what’s in my bag.”

The cadence of her speech, her tone, and her charming accent all worked together to immediately draw the audience in. It was easy to imagine her charisma reaching through the screen, her words a perfect blend of soft-spoken coolness with a hint of playful charm. The introduction felt personal, almost as if Luna was inviting her viewers into a moment of intimacy, giving them a glimpse into her everyday life through the contents of her beloved Miu Miu bag.

Luna smiled softly at the camera, her fingers wrapping around the tan suede strap of her beloved Miu Miu bag, bringing it closer to show it off.

“So, this is my bag,” she said, her tone light and playful as she lifted it up with both hands, presenting it to the camera like a proud parent. The smile on her face widened, a little giggle escaping her lips. “This is my new favorite baby,” she confessed, her British accent rolling effortlessly with each word, adding a hint of charm to her candid admission.

The camera zoomed in slightly on the bag, showcasing its smooth, luxurious texture and the collection of colorful keychains hanging from the handles— bright beaded tassels, a small plush bunny, and a a keychain of the letter J, all adding a playful touch to the otherwise elegant design.

“I say that now because… I have a shopping problem,” Luna laughed, her shoulders shaking a little as she spoke, “and shoes and bags are my absolute favorite to buy. A week from now, I might have a new favorite.” Her laughter bubbled up again, and she glanced down at the bag like it had a personality all its own.

Her hands caressed the suede softly as she continued explaining, a bit of humor lacing her voice. “I prefer smaller purses, actually. Because I’m the type of person who would fill a bigger bag up to the brim with useless stuff— just because I can.” She shrugged with a knowing smile. “An overpacker, if you may. So I avoid big purses, and this one right here is the perfect size. Not too big and not too small. Just enough to stop me from going overboard.”

As she spoke, she absentmindedly adjusted the keychains hanging from the handles, a delicate clinking sound accompanying her movements. Her eyes lit up as she pointed at the colorful charms, her excitement palpable. “Also!” she said, her voice bright with enthusiasm, “I love decorating my bags with keychains and charms. It’s so much fun!” Luna tilted the bag towards the camera, giving the viewers a closer look at the collection of dangling trinkets.

Her eyes glinted with mischief as she added with a little laugh, “People say it’s messy, and frankly, I couldn’t care less what they think.” She shook her head lightly, still smiling, her hand adjusting the bag's strap before casually placing it on her shoulder.

The weight of the keychains caused them to jingle in a melodic clatter, and Luna’s face lit up with amusement. “You’ll always know it’s me because of that sound,” she joked, giving the bag a playful shake, causing the keychains to rattle even louder. She laughed openly at the noise, her energy infectious, before gently setting the bag down on the couch beside her, ready to delve into the contents within.

Her natural charm, her quick wit, and that little bit of self-deprecating humor made the moment feel effortless and real as if she was chatting with friends rather than an audience of thousands.

Luna gently opened her bag with a soft smile and looked up at the camera, her voice as smooth as ever with that signature British accent. “Okay, let’s start, shall we?” she said, almost like inviting her audience into an inside joke.

She reached into the tan suede bag and pulled out not one but two iPhones. The first was plain, sleek, and professional— no case, no frills, just a phone. The second, in stark contrast, was wrapped in a baby pink case adorned with a cute, beaded keychain hanging off the side, catching the light and jingling softly as she held it up.

With a phone in each hand, Luna grinned and tilted her head slightly, her eyes gleaming with a playful mischief. “So first… my phones. Yes, phones… plural,” she said with a light laugh, drawing out the plural for emphasis. “I have two.” She paused for a beat, letting the revelation sink in before delivering the punchline. “Why? Because I can.” She giggled, her carefree energy coming through as she lifted the phones slightly like it was no big deal.

“I have two phones with two different purposes. One is my work phone,” she said, holding up the plain, no-nonsense iPhone, “and the other is my personal phone.” Luna smiled wider as she raised the second phone with the pink case, the beaded keychain dangling between her fingers, creating a delightful contrast.

She pointed between the two phones, her eyebrows raising as if to say, it’s pretty obvious which is which. “It’s pretty obvious which is which,” she echoed her expression with a small giggle.

“My work phone obviously is only for work. It’s where I get contacted for work reasons and work reasons only. This is the number I would normally give people,” she explained, waving the plain phone lightly in the air. “Like, if you’re someone I just met a few times and you ask for my number, I'll give it to you... but you’re getting this one,” she grinned cheekily, the camera picking up on her playful mood.

“And this one…” she lifted the pink-cased phone, the tone in her voice softening slightly, “…is obviously my personal phone. I only give this number to close friends and family— my members obviously who are both my close friends and family,” she added, her smile turning a little more sentimental as she gazed at the beaded charm hanging from the side. "I'm being so serious when I say I only have about twenty contacts on this phone and the majority of them are my members.

After a moment, her eyes sharpened with a teasing glint, and her tone shifted back to something cool and lighthearted. “Why do I do that? It’s because there are a lot of weirdos out there,” she said, her voice dipping just enough to sound a little savage, though she followed it up with a soft giggle to keep it light.

“So if I give you my work number…” she held up the plain phone one last time, “…then you know your place.” She ended with a small wink and a laugh, her cool yet playful attitude shining through as she placed both phones gently on the table in front of her, the pink keychain giving one last, soft jingle as the camera zoomed in on them briefly.

Luna’s fingers disappeared into the depths of her tan Miu Miu bag once more, and when they reappeared, she held up a sleek black wallet, also Miu Miu, to the camera. “Next is my wallet, obviously. This is very important,” she said with a light laugh as she raised it higher, giving the viewers a good look. The wallet was as chic and polished as the rest of her outfit, its simple design matching her elegant vibe perfectly. She placed it on the table next to her phones, the smooth leather barely making a sound.

Without missing a beat, Luna reached into her bag again and pulled out another black accessory, this time a slim YSL cardholder. “This is my cardholder… for my cards, obviously,” she explained with a grin, showing off the minimalist design to the camera. “It’s more convenient to have so I don’t have to dig through my wallet every time.” She set the cardholder next to her wallet, a subtle but clear difference in size and function between the two.

Next, Luna pulled out not one but two sunglasses cases, both stylish and sleek. “Okay, so these are very important,” she said with emphasis, her tone playful but hinting that these were essentials. Opening the first case with care, she revealed a pair of thin-framed reading glasses. She slipped them on briefly, adjusting them on the bridge of her nose, giving the camera a slightly exaggerated serious look.

“These are my reading glasses. I need them… for reading,” she said with a soft chuckle, leaning into the obviousness of her statement. She adjusted the glasses once more before adding, “My eyesight isn’t terrible yet, by the way. I just need these for reading.” Her British accent was more pronounced, adding a delicate charm to her casual explanation. After a brief pause, she removed the glasses, tucked them back into their case, and placed them on the table.

Moving on, Luna opened the second case with an air of excitement and care, as if it contained something truly special. Inside was a pair of sleek black Miu Miu sunglasses, and without hesitation, she slid them on, pushing them up slightly for a perfect fit. “Now, these are my sunnies,” she declared, striking a playful pose to show off the shades.

“I cannot leave the house without these,” Luna admitted. “You could never go wrong with a pair of black sunnies. It always completes the look.” She smiled at the camera, clearly satisfied with her statement, and took a moment to adjust them before pulling them off and carefully placing them back in their case. As she placed the case on the table, the collection of her daily essentials started to take shape in front of her, each item perfectly aligned and displayed for the camera.

Luna dug into her bag again, her fingers searching for the next item. She soon pulled out a sleek black Prada mini pouch, small and elegant, just like the rest of her accessories. She held it up for the camera with a soft smile. “This is my mini touch-up bag, if you may,” she said, showing it off before unzipping it smoothly.

“I almost always get my makeup and hair done professionally by my amazingly talented makeup and hair crew, given my job,” she explained as she opened the pouch further and peeked inside. “So I don’t carry a lot of makeup or hair products with me.” Luna pulled out a compact mirror first, its silver casing catching the light. “I have a mirror and a mini brush,” she started, holding the brush up to demonstrate its compact size. As she continued to sift through her pouch, she began listing off items. “I have hair ties, hair pins, safety pins, a scrunchie, a claw clip, face mask... and a bow,"

"I also have mascara, eyeliner…” Luna’s eyes widened slightly as she pulled out several lip products, her hand full of sleek tubes and compact cases. She giggled at the sight. “And a lot… a concerning amount of lip products,” she laughed softly, placing each item on the table.

One by one, she began pointing them out.

“Lipstick, lipstick, lip stain, lip gloss, lip gloss, chapstick… lipstick, more lip gloss,” she listed, shaking her head in amusement as the small pile grew in front of her. “As you can see, lip products are my favorite,” Luna remarked, her British accent adding a playful charm to her confession. She grinned at the camera, clearly aware of how over-the-top the collection looked.

Moving on, she pulled out the last item from the pouch— a case of colorful pimple patches. “Ooh, I have these cute pimple patches!” she exclaimed, showing off the vibrant assortment of designs. The case was decorated with different shapes and patterns, from stars to hearts. “I love these; they’re adorable and functional,” she said with a proud smile.

Luna zipped up her pouch, placing it next to the other items on the table. “That’s it for my mini touch-up bag,” she concluded with a satisfied nod, glancing over her collection before looking back at the camera.

Luna reached into her bag once again, this time pulling out a soft and fluffy Hello Kitty pouch. A grin spread across her face as she presented it to the camera. “Another mini pouch,” she said with a playful tone, holding it up for a closer look. “This is even more important because this pouch contains the essentials,” she added, her voice taking on a mock-serious tone.

Unzipping the pouch, she began to reveal the contents. First, she took out a small medicine case. “These are my vitamins,” she said, shaking the case lightly, the pills rattling inside. “These are very important since I travel a lot,” Luna explained, setting the case down before pulling out another.

“Now, these are my iron pills,” she giggled, giving the second case a shake as well. “I’m very much anemic and need them to… live,” she joked, her giggle soft but contagious. Placing both medicine cases on the table in front of her, she continued rummaging through the pouch.

“Next… painkillers,” Luna announced, showing the small bottle to the camera. “These are more so for my members,” she admitted with a smile. “I don’t like taking pills. In fact, I absolutely hate drinking medicine. Ever since I was young, it’s been a struggle. A little fun fact about me: I couldn’t swallow pills until I was like… fifteen. That’s how much I hated them,” she said, her eyes glancing at the bottle with a chuckle. "It's sound pathetic 'cause it is."

“I mean, just drinking my vitamins every day makes me physically cringe, so I almost never take painkillers unless I’m on the ground screaming in pain,” Luna confessed, shrugging lightly. “I have a high pain tolerance, which is both a blessing and a curse, honestly. I only have these on me all the time in case any of the members need it,” she said, her accent soft but present, as she placed the painkillers next to the rest of her essentials.

Continuing, Luna pulled out a small pack of motion sickness medicine and a few motion sickness patches. “Next are these,” she showed the camera the packs. “Motion sickness medicine and motion sickness patches— for myself and my members,” she chuckled softly. “At least half of us get motion sick,” she explained. “Sometimes when I’m in the car for too long, or on a plane… or if we somehow find ourselves in any body of water… this is good for that,” Luna said with a small laugh, placing the items on the table in front of her.

Luna reached into her bag again, pulling out a few small sachets and bottles. “These are my supplements,” she explained, showing them to the camera with a quick smile. She lifted the items one by one. “Liquid IV, which I add to my water,” she said, holding up a small packet of powder. “Royal jelly,” she continued, showcasing a tiny jar, “and collagen.” She placed them down gently on the table. “If you ask me what my secret is when it comes to healthy skin… it’s these three,” Luna said confidently, offering the camera a small wink before moving on.

Her hand dipped back into the fluffy pouch and out came a small pack and tin. “Next, I have breath strips and breath mints,” she announced, shaking them lightly before placing them alongside her supplements.

Luna then pulled out a small tin of lozenges and a slim bottle of throat spray. “I have these lozenges for my throat, and… propolis throat spray,” she said, holding the items close to the camera for a better view. Setting them down, Luna explained, “My main instrument is my voice, so I make sure to take extra care of it, especially when traveling because of the changes in weather and such.” Her voice carried a calm seriousness, emphasizing how much care she put into maintaining her health.

Satisfied with her explanation, she zipped the Hello Kitty pouch closed, placing it next to the growing collection of items on the table. “That’s it for my second mini pouch,” she said with a small, satisfied nod, already reaching for the next item in her bag.

Luna reached into her bag again, this time something jingling loudly before she even fully retrieved it. The sound made her chuckle as she briefly put her head down, a grin spreading across her face.

“I have my keys,” she said, finally pulling out a keyring that held two keys— one a standard house key, and the other a car key. But what made her laugh was the sheer amount of keychains dangling from the ring, nearly covering the keys entirely.

“You can barely see the keys,” she chuckled, holding the keyring up to the camera. “I love keychains,” she explained, shaking them slightly to let the noise fill the air again. The assortment of charms and little trinkets jingled as they danced together, showcasing Luna's playful and quirky side.

“Anyway… keys,” she said, resetting herself. “One is my house key and the other one’s my car key,” she continued, showing the camera both. “It’s funny I still have my car key here considering I haven’t driven myself anywhere in like… two years,” Luna added with a smirk, her eyes glinting mischievously.

“It sounds crazy but it’s true,” she admitted, leaning back slightly. “We travel a lot and get driven around a lot. And even if we don’t have work, I still get driven around… It’s one of the perks of having thirteen members who are more than willing to drive me places.” Luna giggled again, the sound light and infectious. “I only got my license for the giggles. I’m a professional passenger princess and I am proud,” she declared with a playful raise of her chin, placing the jingling keyring down on the table.

Before she could dig into her bag again, she picked up a small pack of gum and sweets and showed them to the camera. “I have gum and more sweets,” Luna said, flashing a quick smile. “Just in case I get low on energy or if anyone else gets low on energy,” she added with a casual shrug, placing the small pack next to her keys on the table.

Luna reached back into her bag, her fingers brushing against various items as she asked aloud, “What else do we have here?” After rummaging for a moment, her hand emerged holding a small jewelry box. She smiled, pleased with the find. “Oooh, this is a mini jewelry box for my jewelry,” she said, flipping it open to show the camera. Inside, nestled safely, were a few pieces of jewelry, delicate rings and small earrings, glinting softly under the light.

“These are just a few pieces aside from the ones I’m already wearing,” Luna continued, gently turning the box toward the camera. “There are times during performances or photoshoots when we can’t wear our own jewelry because of the concepts and stuff, so I keep this handy to make sure my things don’t disappear into the depths of my bag,” she explained with a knowing smile before closing the box and placing it carefully on the table.

She reached back into her bag and pulled out a pink journal, clutching a few pens in her other hand. “I have my journal,” she said, displaying the cover. “I like writing down my thoughts every now and then. Sometimes I doodle, sometimes I write poems, and sometimes those poems turn into song lyrics.” Luna's voice softened slightly as she explained, her connection to her journal clearly meaningful. "I usually carry a book with me, I love reading... but I am poorly prepared, I think I left it at home... or in the car actually."

Then, holding up the pens, she added with a smile, “I have a couple of pens, obviously to write with, and a marker— just in case I meet fans and they want me to sign their stuff.” She raised the marker playfully before placing everything neatly in front of her.

Finally, as she reached once more into the seemingly endless bag, Luna pulled out a familiar item, her expression brightening. “My passport. Very important,” she said, holding it up briefly before placing it next to the journal, pens, and jewelry box.

Luna dug around in her bag again, her fingers grazing familiar shapes before pulling out a small white case. “My AirPods,” she said, holding them up to the camera. “Very important. I absolutely cannot leave the house without these.” She placed them neatly on the table before diving back into her bag with a laugh. “Which leads me to this,” she added, pulling out another small pouch. “This is the last of the pouches, I promise.”

She opened the pouch with a smile and took out a pair of wired earphones, holding them up for the camera to see. “I have my wired earphones as backup,” she explained, grinning. “Music is very important to me, so whenever my AirPods die, I have a backup. Always.”

Next, she reached into the same pouch and retrieved a phone charger and power bank, displaying them before placing them on the table. “And of course, these— my charger and my power bank. Always prepared.”

After placing the electronics down, she pulled out two small bottles out of her bag, her face softening as she presented them. “These are my essential oils— lavender and peppermint,” she explained, holding the bottles up close to the camera. “These are also something I can’t travel without. Whenever I’m feeling nauseous, sick, or congested…” Luna paused, unscrewing the cap on one of the bottles as she demonstrated how to use it. She rubbed a few drops of the oil on her fingers, gently massaging it into her temples and the back of her neck before lightly tapping the tip of her nose. “I just put it here, and it really helps to calm me down when I’m anxious or if I can’t sleep,” she said, her voice soft, almost therapeutic, before capping the bottle and placing it on the table.

She nodded thoughtfully, “They’re lifesavers, really,” she added with a smile before glancing back into her bag for what else might be left to reveal.

Luna glanced at the last couple of items in her bag, a knowing smile already tugging at her lips. “And speaking of scents that calm me down…” she began, reaching into her bag with a soft chuckle. She pulled out two small, luxury-looking perfume bottles, their gleaming glass catching the light in the room.

“Perfume,” she said, holding them up for the camera to see. “I love smelling good. It completes the look, always.” She twisted the cap off the first bottle, revealing the delicate nozzle beneath. “These are the mini versions of my perfumes,” Luna continued, grinning as she admired the tiny bottle in her hand. “Whenever I buy perfumes, I always buy the mini ones as well so I can bring those with me. Big perfume bottles are such a hassle to carry around… So, the mini ones are my go-to,” she added with a smirk, “and they’re adorable.”

Luna brought the first bottle closer to the camera, the elegant logo visible. “This is one of my favorite scents ever,” she said, her voice warm with affection. She sprayed a small amount on herself, closing her eyes as the scent enveloped her. A soft giggle escaped her lips, a playful, content sound that made her dimples pop.

As she picked up the second bottle, her expression softened, and a more personal, intimate smile played on her lips. This perfume, unlike the first, was clearly a man’s cologne— its sleek design and musky scent hinted at its origins. She paused for a moment, a hint of nostalgia in her eyes.

Unbeknownst to the public, this was the very same cologne Jeonghan wore. He had given her the bottle as a gift after Luna had once told him how much she loved the scent.

“This…” Luna started, her voice tinged with a giggle, “This is another perfume I carry with me.” She held the bottle up to the camera, her thumb gently tracing the cap. “I love the smell. It makes me happy and calm,” she added, a knowing smile on her face. “This was gifted to me, and the scent reminds me of that person…” Luna let out a shy giggle, her dimples deepening as she bit her bottom lip, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks.

Before setting it down, Luna sprayed a small amount of the cologne onto the inside of her wrists. She pressed her wrists together, inhaling the familiar scent as her eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment. She opened them again, smiling softly at the camera. “Next item…” she said, moving on sneakily, her tone light and teasing as if she hadn’t just given a tiny glimpse into a secret part of her life.

She placed both bottles on the table, the air around her now subtly filled with the mingling scents of her favorite perfumes.

Luna reached into her bag one final time, her fingers brushing against the last item inside. “Lastly, I have my digital camera,” she said, pulling it out with a smile. The camera was encased in a soft, protective cover that she gently unzipped, revealing a small, pink digital camera underneath.

“This isn’t the most high-quality digital camera,” she said with a laugh, fiddling with the device in her hands. She ran her thumb over its smooth surface, clearly fond of it. “But I love it like that. It gives me that very early 2000s feel when I take my pictures,” Luna added, her voice full of affection for the retro style.

She switched the camera on, its little screen flickering to life with a soft glow. Without hesitating, she lifted it toward her view, taking a quick picture of the space in front of her. The camera made an old-school click, capturing the moment with a slightly grainy, vintage aesthetic. Luna chuckled softly at the sound, admiring the charm of the imperfect image.

After a moment of appreciation, she placed the pink digital camera carefully on the table, alongside the rest of her belongings. Her eyes scanned the collection in front of her — from her supplements and perfume bottles to her keys adorned with keychains and the journal that held her thoughts. There was something both comforting and nostalgic about seeing all these pieces of her life spread out in front of her.

Luna looked back at the camera with a wide smile, her eyes gleaming with warmth. “Well, that’s about it,” she said with a light giggle, her dimples showing as she leaned back slightly. “Thank you for watching, and that was what’s in my bag.”

She flashed a final smile to the camera, raising her hand in a small wave, her casual yet charming energy lingering in the air.

comments…

@/lunababybae • 2 years ago ╰ Her accent! it’s like I’m in Hogwarts or something 😩

@/rinarieee • 2 years ago ╰ She’s looking extra beautiful this interview 🤍

@/gyusshadow • 2 years ago ╰ Her bag is so… her. Does that makes sense?! Elegant and fucking crazy at the same time.

@/moonbae17 • 2 years ago ╰ Jiyeonie saying that she might have a different favorite bag next week screams ✨shopping addiction✨ and I am here for it.

@/saythename • 2 years ago ╰ she is def my bias! a shopaholic and an over packer!!! I wanna be your friend so bad, Bae Jiyeon 😭

@/mad-lineeee • 2 years ago ╰ 1:00 her face when her bag started jingling 😂😂 she cracks me up fr.

@/mrsbaebae • 2 years ago ╰ the fact that Jiyeon will give you her phone number if you ask… then you find out she has two phones 🤭 she’s an icon.

@/alyy1625 • 2 years ago ╰ EXACTLY AT 1:17 HER WALLPAPER?! TELL ME THAT’S NOT HER AND JEONGHAN!!

@/jeongnanana • 2 years ago ╰ She’s such a closed off person it’s literally so hot and inspiring at the same time. Like, what do you mean you have a separate phone for people you like?!

@/gyuuuuudaily • 2 years ago ╰ she’s so right 1:38 there are a lot of weirdos out there. she probs have two phones because of the sasaengs who leak their phone number, I don’t blame her at all 🙄

@/sallluuuteee17 • 2 years ago. ╰ 1:25 only twenty contacts and most of them are members of seventeen 😂 so only seven people in her personal phone aren’t in the band 😂

@/lulu-nana17• 2 years ago ╰ girl– your wallpaper?! miss thing!? Is that who I think it is?!

@/sebongrighthere • 2 years ago ╰ “So if I give you my work number… then you know your place “ HOT 🥵 HOT 🥵 HOT 🥵

@/missbitchhhh • 2 years ago ╰ She had a mountain of lip products 2:17

@/shadowmyshadow • 2 years ago ╰ no wonder her lips look so soft, she carries a whole store of lip products with her everywhere.

@/angel7266 • 2 years ago ╰ knowing that my bias hates drinking pills and didn’t know how to swallow them till later on in life is so comforting to me… she is me and I am her.

@/hannnieeeee7251 • 2 years ago ╰ Luna being literally iron deficient makes so much sense for some reason (I am too) 😊

@/user763816262 • 2 years ago ╰ it’s adorable to me how half of the things in Luna’s bag, she only really carry around in case the rest of the members need it 🥹

@/ashonashonash_ • 2 years ago ╰ Key to having Bae Jiyeon skin: Liquid IV, Royal Jelly, and Collagen. Noted queen 💖💖💖

@/jijijiyeonienie • 2 years ago ╰ her keys are nowhere to be found 😂

@/kpopfan17 • 2 years ago ╰ that Porsche car key is basically a keychain at this point, miss thing! Wdym you haven’t driven in two years!?

@/belleeeee_ • 2 years ago ╰ “I only got my license for the giggles. I’m a professional passenger princess and I am proud.” Said by Bae Jiyeon who then proceeded to brag about having thirteen men who are filling to be Uber drivers for her *ehem* Yoon Jeonghan *ehem* Kim Mingyu *ehem*

@/diamondlifeu • 1 year ago ╰ she has that Hermoine Granger bag fr

@/gyuminggooo • 1 year ago ╰ 3:57 those candies are Hannie’s fave 🤭

@/dailynanana • 1 year ago ╰ I love how she’s not gatekeeping at all 💖

@/chuuuuchhuu17 • 1 year ago ╰ “sunnies” “sweets” she’s English for sure 🤣💕

@/lalunanova • 1 year ago ╰ 5:45 !!! she looking at that perfume like that for a reason! I’m not crazy istg 😭

@/17-carat • 3 weeks ago ╰ “I love the smell. It makes me happy and calm. This was gifted to me, and the scent reminds me of that person…” THEN PROCEEDS TO FUCKING SHOW US YOON JEONGHAN’S PERFUME!!

@/myg145 • 2 weeks ago ╰ that’s Jeonghan’s perfume! I’m pretty sure he showed it in one of his interviews… HIS what’s in my bag!!! BAE JIYEON!! WTF?!

@/bjy_lover • 1 week ago ╰ she’s the girlfriend for sure… THE Yoon Jeonghan’s girlfriend. the wallpaper, the candies, the perfume, and the matching digital camera?!

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