#Once We Ruled the Skies
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What an airshow!
Edit: Once, We Ruled the Skies by Paul Couper
#TSR.2#TSR-2#BAC Lightning#Hawker Harrier#P.1127#Hawker Hunter#Fairey Rotodyne#Concord#SEPECAT Jaguar#aviation#Saunders-Roe SR.177#Paul Couper#Once We Ruled the Skies
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Title: Sacrifical Bride.
Commissioned by the very lovely @yanmaresu.
Pairing: Yandere!Hades x Reader (Record of Ragnarök).
Word Count: 3.0k.
TW: Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Forced Marriage, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Emotional Manipulation, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, and Mentions of Kidnapping/Prolonged Captivity. Not Canon Complacent. I Have Never Met Canon But I Hear She's Very Nice.
The wedding was a solemn affair.
Not dull, because nothing that had your heart beating so violently could ever be considered ‘dull’, and not dreary, because despite the many, many things you could say about your kidnapper-turned-husband, he wasn’t one for bland affairs. No, your dress was of the finest and most vibrant silks, your veil lined with pearls and rubies and the gown’s train long enough to swell and ebb behind you as you walked down the seemingly never-ending aisle, unaccompanied by any escort. Wreaths of shining ivory lilies and blooming chrysanthemums encircled marble pillars, low-burning lanterns casting the chapel in long, wavering shadows. The pews were empty. The only guests were his ghastly servants, and they’d never once said a word to you.
There was no officiant. Hades waited for you at the brimstone altar alone, a gentle simper playing over his lips as he watched you drag your feet and fight the urge to bolt, to run, to do the very thing that’d left you trapped in his arm in the first place. It was tempting, albeit pointless. You’d always been swift footed, but there was nowhere to escape to in Helheim. At best, you’d spend a few days hiding and struggling to survive in the empty plains that surrounded his looming fortress of a home. At worst, you’d find yourself without direction and beyond the reach of his control, hopelessly lost and stumbling through fields of fading dead and gnarled beasts and things that would make the man in front of you look hospitable, in comparison. You tried to remind yourself of that as your body begged you to flee.
As you reached the altar, his smile grew into something that could’ve been convincingly genuine, had it been able to reach the pits of lifeless ice that were his eyes. Rather, the gesture only seemed to add to the coil of dread growing tighter in the pit of your stomach as you stepped beside him, clutching your bouquet to your chest in a white-knuckled grip. He’d let you pick that out yourself, at least, and you’d taken a truly irrational amount of joy in picking wildflowers and trimming roses and breaking every rule of decorum your mother had ever taught you. Now, though, the shadows of his hall seemed to dull your vision-searing colors, and it was difficult to take joy in such a simple pleasure knowing the man in front of you sought to ensure you’d never braid daisies or sleep beneath open skies again, when he was staring you down like yet another precious gem he planned to add to his ever-growing collection. It was a cruel comparison, but not quite as hyperbolic as you would’ve liked.
There was a shallow sigh, a hand brought to the edge of your veil. He toyed with the fabric for a long moment before taking the hem in both hands and pulling it away from your face. If he recognized the terror stitched into your expression, he only deemed it worth a slight shake of his head. “Oh, beloved.” His hand fell to your cheek. “You’re as radiant as the day we met.”
The day he plucked you from your mortal life and dragged you into the depths of the earth, the day he’d forced the awful seeds of that terrible fruit down your throat and promised you would never see another living soul again. You swallowed back your nerves. “Please, don’t draw this out.”
You were lucky you’d fallen into the hands of such a mild-tempered captor. He let out an airy chuckle, turning back to the altar. It was decorated sparsely; an overflowing cornucopia posed in one corner, a standing thurible slowly releasing nauseatingly sweet incense into the stagnant air sitting in the other. Between them was only a bottle of dark wine and two twin chalices, crafted of only the finest bronze and polished until they shined in the low lighting. He filled both to the brim before looking towards you, a glint in his remaining eye as he took a chalice in either hand.
You’d been wrong when you assumed they were identical. Where one had a line of aimless, curling thorns following the rim and plunging down the length of the handle, the other was embellished with roses, abstract and nearly shapeless, forming neat columns across the body of the cup. He extended the latter to you, its contents threatening to spill as you took it in your trembling hands. You’d managed to talk him out of the more elaborate ceremonies he’d suggested, but it was difficult to remember that this was a preferable alternative now that could feel the chill of his wine seeping into your palms.
You brought it to your lips, held it there for a moment, then pulled back at the hint of a more familiar scent than that of his dizzying incense. “Pomegranates?”
“I thought it would be a nice touch.” For him, maybe. He’d always struggled to see things from your perspective. “Forgive my sentimentality.”
You wouldn’t, but you were smart enough to keep that to yourself. When he raised his chalice, you did the same, mirroring him when your own will failed you. “To us, darling.”
You nodded. “To us.”
He took a long sip from his chalice, seeming to savor the rich wine, while you drained yours in a single breath. Try as you might to enjoy it, you could only seem to taste ash.
~
A few vows were exchanged, a kiss pressed into the back of your hand when you flinched away from his attempt to communicate his affection more directly. Finally, he took your arm and guided you back to your shared chambers, lingering in the doorway while you collapsed onto his bed – your marital bed, now, you supposed. You buried your face in the silken sheets, letting out a soft groan. There would be a celebration later on, a feast with all of his many gloating brothers and prying sisters in attendance, but the worst of it was over. You were bound to him, for better or for worse. All you could do was weather the consequences.
You’d hoped he would be kind enough to leave you alone while you consoled yourself, while you took all that you knew and all that you didn’t and recontextualized it with yourself as the mortal bride to the God of Death, but a hand on your shoulder dispelled that fleeting fantasy. With no small amount of reluctance, you pushed yourself upward and turned your attention back to Hades. This time, without the pretense of custom, he didn’t settle for your hand. His mouth found its way to the dip of your shoulder, then the crook of your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin as he pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses into his chosen targets.
When he started to move towards the curve of your throat, you moved on instinct – your hands finding their way to his hair as you dragged him away from you before he could do anything you wouldn’t be able to forget as soon as he left the room. “Please,” you said, not for the first time that day. “I… I’d rather be alone, right now. If it’s all the same to you.”
His smile didn’t waver. “You know that, if it were up to me, I would bend to your every whim,” he spaced the words out generously, as if worried your feeble human mind might not be able to understand. “But we aren’t done.”
Your expression fell. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me. I wore the dress, and—and I took your vows, and—”
“My love,” he cut you off swiftly, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek. “Our union will have to be consummated, eventually.”
You felt your throat begin to swell shut.
“I know that, but—” You laid your hand over his, trying to call upon whatever pale imitation of sympathy might’ve existed in his heart. “—does it have to be consummated now?”
You watched as his gaze softened, as his head lulled to the side in that endeared-yet-condescending manner he seemed so fond of. Slowly, with a painstaking gentleness, he brought you closer to him, ghosting over the top of your head and lingering there, even as he started to speak. “I think,” he started, his voice muffled by proximity. “that it would be in your best interest not to keep me waiting any longer.”
It wasn’t a threat, but it was posed like one, dredged up from somewhere deep in his chest and accompanied by his hand on your waist, nimble fingers slipping underneath the sash binding your gown together. When you jerked back, reflexively trying to escape his advances, he was quick to chase you, to let his softened smile spread into an amused grin as an arm wrapped around your midriff and dragged you, willingly or otherwise, into his lap. “I don’t want to hurt you.” And yet, your safety didn’t seem to cross his mind as his blunt nails bit into your waist, as he dragged you close enough to feel his chest press into yours, to become uncomfortably aware of the stiff outline against the loose fabric of his pants. “If I rely on my own self-restraint for another day—” Another kiss, this one to the tender patch of skin above your jugular vein. “I’m afraid I might end up doing something we both regret, when the time comes.”
“Less than a day,” you pleaded as he buried his face in your neck. There was a blur of movement, the ghost of his touch along the curve of your spine, and your bodice fell away in tatters, the ruined fabric collapsing to your waist. When you moved to cover yourself, Hades clicked his tongue and you froze, letting your arms fall back to your sides. Begging him to change his mind was one thing. Going against him so transparently would only make things more difficult. “Half a day. An hour. I just— Hades, I can’t do this right now—”
“My love.” Swift, blunt, merciless. You’d been a fool to ever think he was one of the kinder gods. “I think I’ve waited long enough to claim what belongs to me.”
Any protest you might’ve had died in your throat.
You’d been a fool to ever think he was anything less than the cruelest of his kin.
You wanted to scream. If you couldn’t run, then you would yell, raise your voice and tell him that he already had you, that he’d gotten everything he could’ve possibly wanted, but anything you might’ve said was torn away and ripped to shreds as his head dipped low, his teeth latching onto the vulnerable skin of you collar bone and sinking in. He didn’t draw blood, but he didn’t have to. A bolt of pure, stinging agony shot from your chest to your core, only dulling as he pulled away with a low groan. “Have I ever told you how much I adore the sound of my name on your tongue?” You felt his hand on your hip, then your thigh, the remains of your dress cut through and disposed of with little fanfare. He gave your bridal lingerie (pure white and so obnoxiously lacy, you’d had to wonder if this was all some sadistic joke as you slipped it on) more attention, his thumb running along the delicate trim before his fingers slipped underneath it, tracing the length of your slit before doing away with the barrier altogether.
Dread and panic dulled your reactions, but it would’ve been a lie to say the feeling of his mouth on your skin had left you completely unaffected. He chuckled as he gathered your slick on his fingertips, two of which were soon pressed into your clit with a brutal sort of precision. “And you tried to play coy.” He teased the sensitive bundle of nerves mercilessly, the patterns he traced into your clit too slow and too fleeting all at once. You wished he wouldn’t touch you at all, but if he was going to, it was the least he could’ve done not to draw it out. “That must’ve been why you seemed so rushed during our ceremony. If you’d asked me to make love to you on that altar, I happily would have.”
Hot, humiliated tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. You attempted to deny it, but a cracked moan slipped past your lips instead as two of his fingers were forced into your cunt and spread, splitting you apart. Your hands shot to his shoulders, trying to stabilize yourself, but he only saw your desperation as an invitation – bowing his head and pumping his fingers into you at the kind of languid pace that left you fighting not to rock against him, not to make up for the urgency immortal creatures so often lacked. “You’re a vice,” he muttered, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, his tone low and lecherous. You wondered, briefly, if words that fell from the lips of a god could be considered sinful. “To think my own wife would’ve had me neglect her so severely for so long.”
You shook your head. You were married to him, sure, bound to him. But you couldn’t afford to think of yourself as his wife. You couldn’t afford to think of yourself as something so limited, something so purely an extension of him. “I’m not—”
“Don’t try to spare my feelings. I can see that I underestimated just how much attention my little mortal would need.” His wrist quirked, another digit pushing past your entrance and stuffing your pussy full as his fingers curled and ground inside of you. Against your will, you felt a tight heat begin to twist and writhe in the pit of your stomach, pangs of burning pleasure coursing from your cunt to your core. Now, you cried unabashedly, embarrassment and shame burning in your cheeks and fueling the unsteady stream of tears that Hades was so agonizingly quick to coo over, to kiss away as your hips bucked unsteadily against his hand. “What a sensitive wife I have.” That word – that awful word – was enough to earn a ragged sob, but if he recognized the connection, he didn’t deem it worth his concern. “I promise, you’ll never feel so unloved in my care again.”
You would’ve given anything to be able to pull away from him, to be able to shove at his chest and swear to all the gods you’d once worshiped that there was no part of you that could ever feel loved with him, but in the end, he was the one to let you go, to throw you onto the center of his great bed and leave you whining involuntarily at the sudden loss of stimulation. He’d never been one to deprive you, though; in a moment, he was in between your open legs, one hand wrapped loosely around your thigh while the other pulled feverishly at his own clothes. His coat fell away first, then his shirt. You heard fabric shift and metal clink and, in a daze, saw him wrap his fist around something he could not have possibly planned to fit inside of you. Half out of terror and half out of instinct, your gaze flickered from his cock to his face – to the wide, fanged grin he’d been wearing for as long as you could remember.
He moved to kiss you, and you drove your heel into his stomach.
The blow would’ve been weak by human standards, but it caught him off-guard. Out of reflex, he reeled back, and you took the opportunity to scramble off his bed and towards the door, to any part of this forsaken place where Hades wasn’t. You made it a step, maybe two before something caught your shoulder, before your body buckled under a weight greater than your own. You were dragged onto your knees before you could so much as think to slip away from him, your cheek forced against the cool marble of the floor before you could hope to make your descent more dignified. You felt his broad chest press into your back, his snarling lips against the curve of your throat. You wondered if the insult would be great enough to warrant taking your life, but the thought was dismissed quickly.
Hades had never been the kind of god capable of showing such mercy.
“I would’ve made love to you like a queen,” he spat, his tone all manic venom and overdue obsession. “But, if you’d rather be fucked on the ground like a whore, I’m more than happy to oblige.”
You weren’t allowed the luxury of bracing yourself, this time. In one brutal movement, he thrust into you, splitting you open on his cock with the kind of harsh, unforgiving force better suited to a wild animal. There was no time to adjust, no time to sob, only Hades groaning against your neck as he bucked against you, never daring to pull out completely. Whatever agony his fingers had sparked was now ten-fold. Your legs shook, your body threatening to collapse entirely, but Hades kept your ass raised and your thighs spread, his focus entirely on bucking into you as deeply and as roughly as he could.
It almost surprised you when one of his hands shot to your head, his fingers tangling themselves in your hair as he forced his mouth against yours. You tried not to cooperate, but two fingers pressed into your clit and your mouth fell open in a guttural cry, providing an opening he seemed content to take advantage of. It was a deep, lingering, messything – all tongue and teeth – but his cock ground against something soft and vulnerable and you failed to suppress the wave of pure heat that flooded through your battered body as you clenched around him, as you came undone around the cock of your kidnapper, your captor, your husband. Hades wasn’t far behind, his composure shattering no more than a second after the walls of your cunt clenched down around him. You could only choke on your misery-tinged pleasure as his hips pressed into your ass and he came inside of you – his awful warmth soon tainting every fiber of your being.
You tried to tell yourself that, at the very least, it was over - that he’d had his fill of you and now, you’d be free to console yourself elsewhere, but your hopes were once again dashed when Hades failed to release you, failed to pull out of you, failed to do anything but press himself into your back and trail his lips idly down to the nape of your neck. “Once is a pitiful amount for a king. Don’t you agree?”
You felt his hips move back, then rock against you just as quickly.
“You can forgive me when we’re done, love.”
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere oneshot#yandere record of ragnarok#record of ragnarok imagines#record of ragnarok x reader#hades x reader#yandere hades#yaanderecore#yancore
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END GAME
PART ONE
pairing: lucifer x fallen angel! fem! reader
fandom: hazbin hotel
genre: fluff
warnings: no warnings yet.
notes: very feral for this man and this is multishot fic and would be writing a smut for this. Reader is close to his age (probably a hundred years younger but meh)
additional notes: this is a long one.
Part two |
[y/n] stood in the podium, her hands bound by golden chains. She looked at the higher angels who sat on the high chairs of the courtroom, her [e/c] eyes stared at them with boredom. She never liked being in heaven, so many rules to the point she couldn't breathe. She was created a few years after the infamous Lucifer fell from grace, she admired him. She has heard his cause and mentally agreed to his beliefs—she couldn't say it out loud as the higher beings would punish her. She was a good angel, always a rule follower and a good role model, then she suffered from burnt out, repeating the same thing everyday—waking up, praying, doing good, following the rules.
She started questioning their ways and now, the time has come for it to bite her back as she finally faces a trial. [Y/n] what happened the majority of her trial, she remembers doing a couple of nods in agreement and occasionally rolling her eyes whenever Adam said something stupid. She couldn't take whatever bullshit Sera was yapping about and decided to cut her off, “Enough about all these rules, just admit that us angels are egomaniacs, always hungry for control. Heck, Lucifer was right with his intentions but you guys saw it as an act of disobedience. You didn't like what he was doing since it didn't follow what you guys wanted him to do.” She said coldly, her tone making the whole room tense and cold, “he thought it was unfair to the humans to follow whatever heaven's command is without question and hesitation. But Lucifer gave them freedom,” [y/n] pauses, glaring at the higher beings, eyebrows furrowed and her eyes staring at their very soul, “Heaven is fake, you put on a show for everyone, pretending that everything is fine and this is a fun place filled with peace and we all know you guys want them to blindly follow your rules.”
“Do not ever speak his name or do you want to follow where he is?” Sera asked loudly, her voice commanding and echoing off the walls of the court but her message just made the angel in trial smirk, “Oh...? Frankly speaking, I think hell seems to be a better and more fun place than heaven. I could do whatever the fuck I want.” [y/n] says with a smirk, heart thumping loudly for the first curse word she had said. This made Sera more angry, “Then, so be it.” Sera sneers.
Falling... So this is what Icarus felt when he flew too close to the sun. Lucifer was lucky as heaven wasn't this harsh before, [y/n] closes her eyes as she felt the stinging pain of the wind caressing her back, golden ichor flowing from where her wings should be, but despite the pain, a grin was plastered on her face as she embraced the imminent pain she'll receive once she hits the burning ground of hell. Despite the extreme pain she felt on her back, the missing part of her that heaven decided to take—she felt free, shimmering tears cascades down her cheeks as she cried for her acquired freedom while simultaneously mourning for the loss of her wings. Her weak body passing by many, many clouds, passing by the crust of the earth and soon she could see the fiery red skies of hell, she can only wait for the impact.
She could hear the sound of something breaking and cracking, the loud ringing on her ears before her world turned dark. Falling from grace isn't enough to kill her.
Lucifer's usual schedule usually consists of him wallowing in self pity inside his room, making rubber ducks, or having an existential crisis in his balcony. Lucifer just so happens to be on his balcony that day, talking to his newly created rubber duck that looks like his daughter when his eyes noticed the dark red clouds of hell parting and a figure falling at extreme speeds, at first he thought it was another soul who ended up in hell but his eyes widened to see occasional gold shimmering on the figure. “What...” Lucifer murmurs in confusion, his eyes following the figure and what the...? It's about to land in his front yard.
Only his eyes widened in fear as the figure crashed and golden ichor splattered everywhere. The realization damned upon him that another angel has fallen from grace.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Lucifer never cursed so much as he jumped off the balcony, three pairs of wings springing out of his back as he quickly flew next to the crash site. “I swear to me if this person died,” this wouldn't be the first time someone died in his front yard but it would be the first time an angel would, but can an angel even die from this impact?
He quickly checked the fallen angel, identified that it's a female. She looked like such a mess, golden ichor splattered everywhere, messy hair from falling, eye bags, and passed out but despite all that, he found her to be very beautiful, “I swear to me, this isn't the time Lucifer.” he muttered to himself as he began to work and make sure this woman is treated properly. What made the king of hell freeze was when he used his power to lift her up gently, he noticed that so much blood was gushing out of her back where the bone that should connect to her wings. He just realized why this angel crashed, she couldn't fly. She doesn't have her wings anymore and that realization filled his heart with anger.
He stared at her broken form lying on the bed of the spare guest room of the castle, he couldn't fully heal her. There's a limit to how much his angelic powers could do, it can't reverse the damage heaven themselves have done to her. Thankfully, he managed to fix all broken bones and close the wounds she had received but he can't fix the trauma she'll receive from this. Believe him, he tried (with himself).
His hand caressed away the hair that was falling on her face, finally taking a good look on her. She looked more beautiful without those wounds, she looked better without the stress—a contrast to the first time he's seen her. Warmth flooding his cheeks, he doesn't even realize that the red of his cheeks has become significantly darker.
“Ah, Lucifer stop. You don't even know this woman,” Lucifer mutters in annoyance as he squeezes his own cheeks to stop the warmth before eventually leaving the guest room to continue his usual routine.
He's starting to get worried, the fallen angel that currently resides in his guest room still hasn't woken up. It's been eight days. He spent the entire week checking up on her and continuing to treat her, he admits that this unknown angel's presence did good to his mental health as he was busy worrying for her that he forgets to listen to his intrusive thoughts. “What am I going to do with you?” Lucifer mutters softly as he places his hands above her, hovering over her body as golden hue begins to glow. Slowly and surely healing her.
Aching pain in her muscles is what she felt, slowly regaining consciousness. [Y/n] woke up in an unfamiliar room, oddly reminds her of the rooms that only royalty have. She tried to move her muscles but she could feel it cracking from not moving for a long time. “What happened...?” she asked herself softly, trying to remember what happened. The trial, Sera's anger, Adam being annoying, falling, her wings, then crashing. “Where am I?” she asked herself again, her voice croaking slightly, she slowly moved her body so she could sit on the bed, her eyes wandering everywhere, taking in her surroundings. She noticed that the symbol apple and snake was present on the designs of the tinted windows. The door opens.
Another week has passed, still no sign of her waking up. Lucifer was walking towards the guest room, preparing himself to try to heal her again. He opens the door and he froze to see the fallen angel who's usually lying limp on the bed is now sitting and staring on the window. “You're awake.” he says softly and she turned to look at him, her eyes, it's so beautiful. “Who are you?” she asked him softly and he smiled, “The name's Lucifer Morningstar, welcome to hell.”
#Spotify#lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist#lucifer morningstar x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer magne#lucifer#PLEASEE THIS WAS ORIGINALLY A SMUT BUT I DECIDED TO DO A BACKGROUND WRITING ON THEM FIRST FOR THEIR RELATIONSHIP TO BLOOM#“END GAME” — LUCIFER X READER
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Fae! Adjacent Danny, adjacent bc I’m really tired and can’t remember all of the rules.
Even before he died, there was something off an out Danny. It’s why his bullies existed, and why his friends were so loyal.
Danny was fae. Kind of. Different, to say the least. Those who fit in instinctually felt a sense of weirdness, of a just barely there shiver. Those who were outcasts loved it.
It stands to reason that when Danny moved to Gotham, everyone and their goddamn cousins loved him. Gotham was made of misfits, and Danny was one of their own.
A boy who could have been his own brother walked into his store. Danny glanced up at the slight ting of the doorbell. A head full of fluffy black hair, eyes bluer than the skies, and a camera hanging its heavy weight against the boy’s neck.
The boy glanced down at the circle- the very obvious circle- Danny made of polished stones and gems that was placed on the side of the counter.
The boy looked at him, nerves apparent in his posture, and stepped into the circle. Danny straightened. Ah, a customer.
“I came here to make a deal.”
“I see. And what is it that you desire?”
The boy puffed up and handed Danny a written contract.
“The full and complete revival of one Jason Peter Todd, buried at Gotham Memorial on lot #537.”
Danny glanced through the contract. It was as foolproof as possible.
“Very clever. But you’ve forgotten something.”
“What?”
Danny smiled a small eldritch thing at the boy. “There is always a price, little sparrow.”
“I’ll pay it.” The boy said.
“And what if what I want…” Danny placed a thumb under the boy’s eyes. He must learn not to be going around and making deals with beings like Danny. “Are your eyes?”
The boy trembled.
“You can have them in exchange for the contents… the contents of that paper being completed.”
“And what if what I want is… your full name?”
A terrible price. Once you gave people like him your name, you could never come back.
The boy closed his eyes. “Okay. Okay. You can-” the boy opened those eyes again and looked at Danny with determination. “But only after you complete the tasks.l
Danny wasn’t fae. He was almost one, yes, but he was always a little more human than the rest of his kind. It made him gentle. To them, it made him weak. The fae are rarely ever kind, and Danny was made of kindness.
“This price, I will not take it from you.” Danny raised a palm when the boy made to protest. “Instead, it will be taken from your… brother himself, for that will be the nature of his revival.”
“Are you sure you don’t want my name? Or- or something?”
Danny smiled.
“Not while you are within my circle, little sparrow.”
“Why do you call me that?”
Danny smirked. “One day, I might even tell you. For now, we will complete your contract. The price…”
The boy tensed up.
Danny pointed at the camera. “The price will be that camera. You may keep the pictures.”
“Deal.” The boy’s face lit up. Danny grinned with a bit with too much teeth.
“We have a deal.” And Danny released the boy with his- no, with Danny’s- camera from the circle. When he stumbled out of it, Danny gestured to the door, and flicked the switch that connected to the sign, turning it from Open to Closed.
“Lead the way, little Sparrow.”
The boy stared at him… then stuck his hand out.
“I’m Tim.”
Danny laughed. “I’m Danny. Don’t go making deals with people like me if you can help it, kid.”
#do not take advice from me that involves the fae#I have the memory of a goldfish#and once I saw a perfectly circular ring of mushrooms on campus#and went wow what a perfectly round ring of mushrooms#and then went what if there was a body buried underneath there?#and then went what if I walked into it? and then I walked into it#if the fae were real#I’d die first#dcxdp#danny phantom#batman#Tim Drake
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A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [2.6K]
THE TIMELINE
“Love is born into every human being; it calls back the halves of our original nature together; it tries to make one out of two and heal the wound of human nature. Each of us, then, is a ‘matching half’ of a human whole…and each of us is always seeking the half that matches him.”
- Aristophanes, Plato’s Symposium.
I. ATHENS, GREECE: 8TH CENTURY BC
The gods were angry.
Or so you’d heard. It started with whispers. Murmurs from the town and its people. Rumours spread across Athens the same way the breeze did at the start of summer. They said the gods were angry, furious.
How could the mortals be so silly? How could they possibly rile their gods like this? Again?
Stupid humans, foolish humans.
You didn’t understand.
But then one morning before the sun rose, you awoke to a reddened sky and a heavy wind, a storm brewing over the horizon, a dark mass you could see above the sea from your bedroom window. Preachers took to the streets then, standing on the cobbles with bells ringing above their heads, warning every person listening about the end of times. It had happened before, they said, their faces masks of horror. It was happening again.
The gardens all died, grass turning black, crops to dust, life fleeing from the ocean as Poseidon uprooted the seafloor, waves crashing against the cliff's edge. Athens turned to decay, colour slipping from the world as the gods ruled over it from the skies and sea. A punishment fit for the crime, the elders said, telling stories at the marketplace, of how their own grandparents had once been born together, joined at the heart, four arms and four legs.
One soul.
They said Zeus came from Olympus, that he’d crashed down to earth riding a bolt of lightning and he ripped the mortals apart. They said it was a bloodshed, rivers of red running through the plazas, wells turning thick like tar.
Zeus cursed everyone, you heard. Your kind had been getting too prideful, too full of ego and greed and want for more. The gods feared an uprising, they sat on their thrones and they resented to power you all craved.
So they did something about it.
With their wounds left to heal on their own over months and years, each half of a mortal was thrown to different corners of the earth, destined to spend the rest of their lives searching for the other half of their soul.
It seemed nothing more than a fable, a horror story for children, something you would never have believed. Soulmates? Someone made just for you? An impossible notion, you were sure you would have once thought, if you hadn’t already met yours.
He was at the forge when the first bolt of lightning hit the ground.
The concrete split and temples on the cliff sides shook, the tiles on each home shattering as they fell. You heard people yelling from your garden as the ground shuddered and an eerie quiet followed. A hollow silence, a calm before a storm and then something else hit the ground too.
Bigger, heavier, more powerful.
You dropped your basket and ran.
Still barefoot, you left the sodden clothes on the grass and fled, passing the sanctuary of your home, the temples beyond the rivers, the forests that came before the sea. You ran to the plaza, through the marketplace that was buzzing with fear, shoulders burning with pain as you slammed your way past everyone who ran against you. You were battling a tidal wave of townsfolk, each one crying and yelling.
You heard shouts of Titans! Furies!
People yelled out names they once didn’t dare whisper, each word said like a curse. Cronus, Crius, Oceanus, Thea. Standing on the marble steps of the Parthenon, a preacher in guided robes had blood running down the side of his face, a cut on his head matting his greying hair. He was ashen, clutching at his scribes and shouting at the frenzied crowd below.
“Tartarus has risen!” He yelled, “the gates of Hades have opened and we, foolish mortals, shall pay for our sins! The father of gods shall come for us, he shall feast upon thy flesh and bone and—”
The preacher's harrowing words were cut off abruptly as another crack in the earth opened up. The shining marble split and the man fell through, the world itself swallowing him whole. You didn’t have time to react more than a strangled cry coming from somewhere deep in your chest. You clasped your hand to your mouth, fearing you’d lose your breakfast, that you’d become too dizzy to keep moving.
The ocean was growing closer, too tall waves and swirling, dark pools buried into its depths. Ships were being sucked under, their white sails the last thing you saw before they were swallowed by Poseidon’s fury. A golden chariot raced down from the sky, sparks flying in the air as it landed on the roof of the Acropolis. More marble shattered and Ares, the god of war, had landed on earth to do his duty.
By the time you reached the forge, the plaza was running red, just like the elders had said it would. The bronzed statue of Hephaestus that guarded the entrance to the blacksmiths had come to life, the god himself taking its form as he spewed fire across the village, molten heat and steel dripping from his large hands, coal crumbling at his feet. The air smelled like ash, like fire and death.
As you searched for him - your other half - eyes wide and frantic, your chest heaving, Hades stood in the shadows across the cobbled road. Inky black dripped from him, from his robes, his skin, his mouth. He looked ghoulish until he stepped into what was left of the daylight, a trick of the sun turning his gaunt face handsome. He grinned at you, each tooth pointed and sharp and he held out a hand. A pomegranate was placed in his palm, the fruit cracked open and the ruby seeds spilling out of it like tiny jewels. He beckoned you, a voice in your head whispering, silky, sultry, full of promises that couldn’t be real.
Surely eternal damnation was better than a fate like this?
You moved, your body not your own, one foot in front of the other, your hand outstretched. Images flashed through your head, dark swirls of three headed dogs, rivers made of souls and gates of bones. But when they opened, there was a garden, more beautiful than the ones in Athens, with their marble pillars and fountains that led into ponds. In this garden, temples stood gleaming and tall, with maidens dancing amongst rose bushes, naked and with hair to their waists. They waved to you, more scarlet coloured fruit held in their hands and they were laughing, singing, pulling you closer--
Another bolt of lightning - bigger and louder and brighter than before - hit the ground and the maidens disappeared. The god of the underworld grinned once more before he stepped back into the shadows and turned to smoke, melting into the bloodied ground.
Zeus had landed in Athens.
And you couldn’t find Steve.
Steve Harrington, son of the town’s head blacksmith, was tending to the forge when the first god came to earth. He’d left you in bed, the threadbare sheets around you still warm, your skin littered with his leftover kisses, marks from his greedy fingers the night before. The sky had been scarlet when he walked across the plaza and in the far distance, a plume of smoke rose from what seemed like the ocean. The Methana volcano was simmering, waiting, spewing fumes of gas and dust.
A warning.
The forge cracked when Zeus arrived, the bricks splitting along with the forge floor, cobbles and bricks turning to rubble under the men’s feet. Fire and coal tumbled from the cast iron cages, half made swords of burning steel falling at their feet. The sky above rumbled, the windows shattering as bolts of lightning hit the land and people screamed, torturous sounds that made Steve run blindly out into the plaza.
Some were kneeling, their heads bent and their palms open to the sky, to the gods. A sacrifice that was ignored. Others ran, diving into buildings that immediately fell on top of them and Steve watched in horror as people dropped before him, falling like sacks, crumpled to the ground as they clutched their chests in agony. They called out their lovers' names, their voices hoarse, pleading, desperate and all at once, a crowd surged behind Steve, carrying him with them, his shoulders burning at the momentum.
He had to find you.
The market was in ruins, once fresh vegetables and fruits now smashed into the concrete, the smell of baked bread hidden under burning embers. Panicked horses fled their owners and carts, almost knocking Steve to the ground as they tried to escape the carnage. The sea level was rising, the shadows of boat sails towering over marble buildings, the hulls of ships teetering closer to pillars that once held the statues of the gods now seeking revenge. Steve had been raised to honour them, to covet them, to fear them.
And he’d never felt as scared as he did when he spotted you across the square, eyes wide and not yet finding his, your gaze too trained on the statue of Aphrodite that was crashing down too close to you. The white marble hit the floor and shattered, sending clouds of dust and dirt into the already smoke filled air and you disappeared from Steve’s sight once more.
Panic flooded him, a fear like no other and suddenly the gods that reigned from the seas and skies didn’t seem as terrifying anymore.
He yelled your name, choking on the fumes from the fires that had started to rage all around, Hephaestus riding a cloud of black coals and burning embers as he let fire pour from his palms and open mouth, a gaping maw of molten lava that dripped from and melted everything and everyone it touched. Steve flung himself to the ground to avoid the flames, crawling desperately forward before he caught himself and began to run again, hissing as the gaps in his shoes filled with shards of broken stone. Red poured from the soles of his feet but he didn’t think anything could hurt as much as the thought of losing you.
Again, he screamed for you, the letters of your name hitching in his throat, scratching like glass and more people tore in front of his path, running from the destruction. Bodies fell before him, couples forever trapped in a lovers embrace, their faces hidden in each other's chests. They became one again, four arms, four legs, two faces.
Joined at a heart that was no longer beating.
Steve didn’t want to die without you.
He found you in the rubble as Zeus moved closer, a grey and white shadow of a man, a huge hulking figure that didn’t seem real. He didn’t look like his marble castings, the statues that were gilded with gold leaf. He wore no olive laurel on his head, he bore no kind smile nor gentle eyes. Instead he held bolts of lightning in his hands like swords, like spears, throwing them at his victims with cruel precision.
A storm followed him, bigger than anything Steve had ever seen before. It turned the red clouds above the god purple and black, an inky slurry of darkness and electricity crackled between spaces. The air buzzed and Steve’s skin prickled, the static making his ripped and bloodied shirt cling to his damp chest.
Poseidon had finally shown himself, emerging from the waves, his skin a sickly green, his eyes darker than the deepest depths of the sea he came from. He held a triton, seaweed hanging from its points, his body scarred and battered from the horrors he created in the oceans. He seemed too big, a giant, an almost titan and rain poured from Zeus’ purple clouds as he advanced onto Athens.
Steve saw your arm, a limp hand from beneath a pile of stone and he cried as he lifted each piece of what was once Aphrodite. The marble face of the goddess of love smiled warmly at him and it felt mocking, it felt like an arrow to the chest.
You were still alive, barely awake, nose dripping blood and a slice across your forehead that narrowly missed your eye. You cried when Steve pulled you free, his strong arms wrapped around your torso and you clung to him, barely daring to look at the horrors that surrounded you. He smelled like smoke and fire and the metal sting of blood, but under it all, there was something like home that still lay on his skin.
He seemed frantic, calling your name over and over until you nodded and said his back, like it was only upon hearing your voice that he believed you were alive. Steve sat amongst the debris of Aphrodite and held you, your weak frame pulled into his lap and he cradled you there, your head on his shoulder and your arms around his neck.
You weren’t sure what you coveted more fiercely, the young man or your last breath.
A shadow lingered nearby, listening to the soft murmurs you shared the pretty lies you both needed to hear as you told each other it would be okay. Hades stood close, statuesque and with black plumes at the bottom of his dark robes, a midnight blue cast over his skin. He looked like he’d never been close to looking human. He held a timepiece in one hand, a golden thing that ticked too loudly and he grinned at you and Steve, watching, waiting as two creatures by his feet held scrolls of names. They were made od nothing kind, created from bone and other people’s spines, their too long tails and forked tongues that flickered over the skin of the dead as they sent their souls below.
Steve knew he’d fight a god before he let them take you.
But he didn’t get such the luxury of battling for his lover. Zeus moved closer still, rain pouring harder, electricity making his hair stand on end. The father of gods himself stood tall before you both, his eyes as white as his long hair and beard. Nothing about him softened as he gazed down at you both intertwined, blood from each other staining your lover's skin.
Steve pulled you closer, his hand cupping the nape of your neck as he pushed your face to his throat, shielding you, protecting you. You clung to him tighter, hands fisting in the rags of his old shirt and you wondered if you’d ever get to see him again. If this life was it, if this was all you were allowed.
The two of you in the ruins of Athens, the goddess of love shattered at your feet. Four legs, four arms, two faces, one soul. Connected by a heart that seemed weaker than ever in the presence of something cruel.
Silence came before the crack, the world stilling, Athens at peace. You found solace in Steve, your nose pressed to his neck as you held onto him, praying for something painless. You pushed two kisses to his skin then, the side of his throat that seemed to make your lips fizz and Steve sucked in a breath, his lips at your temple, cherishing the last touch he got of you.
“I love you,” Steve whispered and his voice cracked on each word. Tears from his eyes stream the dirt on his face, running rivers down your cheek until they mixed with your own. “I’ll find you again. In the next life, and the next again. I prom—”
A bolt of lightning, so hot it felt frozen, struck the breath of space between your chests. Something inside of you cracked then, ribs splintering as the weapon found your heart and you couldn’t feel Steve’s arms around you anymore.
You couldn’t feel anything.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington smut#Steve Harrington fanfiction#Steve Harrington fanfic#Steve Harrington oneshot
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all of this (& heaven too) - hades!Gojo
He is not what you pictured. You had a painted image in your head of a terrifying immortal, ancient and dreary, who ruled over the dead. Instead you discover the king of the underworld is young, all brilliant wide smiles, and more importantly - dangerously handsome.
Or
You are a goddess of spring torn between two fates, that is until you meet a strange man leaning against a tree…
pairing: satoru gojo x fem!reader
tags & warnings: 18+ only mdni, loose interpretation and altering of the hades & persephone myth, complicated/strained parental relationship (could be read as controlling/manipulative), mentions of kidnapping, brief physical assault, clingy + lovesick Gojo, slight wound licking and finger sucking, allusion to fem!oral receiving, Gojo being Gojo and offering gruesome violence as a form of love… if there is anything I missed pls let me know!!
wc: 14k
a/n: title is from the florence + the machine song of the same name. I already hate myself for wanting to write a companion piece to this from gojo’s pov… okay that’s all please enjoy, thank you for reading! Also biggest thank you to @stellamancer & @willowser who have been my best comrades in Gojo hell
When you were just a young little sapling your mother once asked you what your favorite thing about this world was.
“The great big sky!” You had told her brightly.
“The sky?” Your mother asked, amused. “Not any of the flowers? The rivers? Or the fields, my little sprout?”
“Nope!” You were adamant.
“Then why?” Your mother grinned and so you told her.
“Because it’s so big! Like there’s so much room to grow!”
Then you added. “And it’s so blue, like the sea!”
Your mother had laughed warm, vibrantly loud like the morning rays waking you up.
The sky. You always loved the sky. Even as an immortal crafted from ichor and stardust, the sky made you feel mortal in the best ways, especially now.
Now, as a fully matured celestial being, you are as old as one of the grand redwood trees you loved running alongside when you were a little.
You glance up at the sky while the wind blusters through your fields. Even with looming clouds clustering above signaling the arrival of a storm, you find reassurance there. The storm now actually feels comforting as a similar storm of unrest swirls inside of you. You stomp down from the mountain not even waiting for your mother.
That entire meeting with her, you, and the lord of the skies was pointless. Gakuganji, with his thunderous melodies and even with all his wisdom, made you curse the skies.
“We shall need to discuss terms of the arranged courting rituals soon.” You had almost choked when you heard the old god’s words. He could not be serious.
Even when you yelled confused, even when your mother sent you a sharp glare to keep quiet, Gakuganji never once acknowledged you. It was like you were not even present, just a simple wallflower ignored against the grander of other immortals. Because to them, you would always be a little sapling, your mothers offspring, nothing more.
The thunder booms ahead and you wish the rain would pour down on you. Maybe the rain would help simmer you down.
“Well now, don’t you look just as feral as a chimera?” A voice emerges,a coy playful tone you’ve never heard before.
When you snap your gaze to the side, you discover a man. Clothed in deep obsidian robes, he seems just as tall as the sycamore tree he leans against.
His hair is a startling white and -
His eyes are blindfolded.
Being so close to the sacred grounds tells you this man must be another immortal. But you had never met him before.
Then again, you had happily enjoyed staying unaware among your blooms. You wistfully ignored the problems and squabbles the others had. Even when you came of age centuries ago you did not have any desire to accompany your mother to Olympus. It was only recently that she began dragging you with her. Now you wonder if that decision has caused you to be the fool.
You glare at the mystery man. “I’m just fine, thank you.”
“Mhm, doesn’t look like it.” His taunts lightly and it makes you want to shriek.
“Wanna tell me who’s responsible?” Now his lips form into a soft grin. “I could deal with them for you.”
Even as strange as this man is, there’s some sense of comfort in his casual comment. The tension in your body, even in your face, slowly flutters away.
You sigh. “No it’s fine.”
Looking at his covered eyes, you already wonder what color they are.
Your name is called out sharp before you can ask your mystery man what his name is. Your mother’s voice snaps your spine straight. Quickly whipping around you see her scurrying to you with wide worried eyes.
“Head home, little sprout.” She urges you.
“Wait, why?”
“Head. Home.” Her words echo with the same force as the storm brewing around you.
Your mother’s magic swiftly swirls all around. She is getting ready to sweep you into the wind that helps her run along her wheat fields. You can’t help it. Your eyes fall to the mystery man. His handsome features smirk amused. You mother however stares at him as if he is an abomination from the depths of the underworld.
“Lord Gojo, good day to you.” And when she says his name, you discover this mystery man is not just from the depths of the underworld, but its ruler.
Your heart plummets fast into your stomach. The strangest concoction of emotions swirls in you. Terror and curiosity are not a desirable pair to navigate through.
Then in a wild gust, you are teleported home. You wonder if your mind might have flown out in the whirlwind because you still cannot believe it.
You just met the Lord of the underworld.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧
His existence was a simple phrase of his name you were told never to utter.
Lord Gojo.
The strongest of the immortals. The rumors paint him as a mindless monster who slaughtered titans during the Great War. He was a ghastly terror. The only immortal fit to rule over the dreary underworld. You used to paint him in your mind as someone aged like Gakuganji. The lord was carved from myth, ancient and terrifying. So you imagined him more creature than man.
Yet instead he exists a smiling handsome man who appears to you now.
“M-my Lord!” You stammer out frantically.
You had been sitting by the riverside braiding another floral crown to keep your mind at ease. Then, out of the blue, like a strike of lightning, the underworld’s king appears beside you.
“Oh no,” Gojo simply waves. “Please no titles, they disgust me.”
You almost choke on your own confused inhale.
“What are you doing here?” You squawk confused, trying to ignore how rapid your heart races in your chest.
This god was painted to be a terrifying tale. You mother once even told you he would only bring chaos and misfortune to anyone who crosses his path.
Now he lounges beside you under the shade of the trees.
“I came to see if you were alright. You looked so upset before.”
His words knock you breathless. Your mind could not believe this was truly the dreaded god of the underworld. Suddenly said king gasps obnoxiously loud and you almost jump out of your skin.
“What are you making?!” He leans down to point at the flowers in your lap.
“Flower crowns, they’re for the village children nearby.”
You loved to leave them off at the edge of the fields where the children played. Whenever you catch them wearing the bright floral wreaths your heart soars .
“Aw, that’s sweet.” Gojo admires, like a loud wind chime. “Can you make one for me then!?”
You wonder if the ground has given out from under you. The man whispered to be pure power, now wears a childish frown with his lip sticking out in a full on pout.
“Please?” He pleads.
Left with no choice, your attention goes back to the flowers bunched lonely in your lap and you furiously return to braiding.
“That one better be for me!” The king of the underworld comments in a song-like tone. A quick temptation rises in you to throw the flowers in the nearby river.
“What are you even doing here?” For some reason, you blurt that out.
The words leave before you can stop yourself and your eyes widen in horror. This is it. Your mind jumps to every awful thing he could probably do to you. And he does the absolute worst.
He laughs.
It colors his cheeks lovely and you hate how it somehow intensifies his handsome features even more.
“I told you! I wanted to check up on you.” Gojo smiles toothy but swiftly the image of a grinning crocodile waiting in the water comes to mind.
“I don’t believe you.” Again, you speak out too fast. Thankfully his lips thin into an amused line.
“You’re a lot more perceptive than you look, I like that.”
His words shake your brain, a fierce little rattle that has you staring at him stunned. Your heart races to find a regular beat.
“Well,” Gojo sighs. “I did have an annoying meeting with the others. But… while I was up here I thought I’d drop by and see how you were doing, petals.”
The fond playful name he bestows upon you is done so casually. Yet, it snags your breath.
Petals.
The nickname has your mind reeling until you fully process what he said. The meeting he went to was the same one your mother must have gone to earlier and is still at.
“What was it about?” You ask a bit calmer as you braid simple dandelions to pop against the forget me nots.
Silence softly settles and mixes in with the rush of the river.
“You mean…no one’s told you?”
Gojo’s voice is a soft but stunned whisper that steals your attention back to him. You now are frustrated you can’t see his eyes, can’t see the emotion in them.
“Told me what?” You frown.
The lord of the underworld stays quiet. He tilts his head towards your lap.
“The color of those flowers are lovely.” He says simply and even with a touch of awe.
Indignation rises in you, a heated over spilling boil and you snap. “What did you all discuss!?”
Then it hits you. You just flat out demanded so fiercely to the ruler of the underworld.
“I apologize-”
“No,” Blindfold or not his attention is fully directed towards you now. “Don’t apologize. You deserve to feel frustrated. Believe me I would be too.”
You exhale shakily.
“There's been more talk about your place among the others.” Gojo tells you simply. “Arranged marriage is being thrown around.”
Your heart sinks fast.
“I should have known.” You sigh as you rapidly return back to looking at your flowers. Slowly vines start to grow against your ankles. Your powers react to your emotions, and now the sensation of feeling tired manifests itself.
“Everyone thinks I’m just my mother's offspring,” you snap mainly to yourself. “Or that I’m only here to be someone’s marriage partner, but I’m not.”
The vines start to prickle against your skin. When you glance down so many have already grown across your legs.
“Who are you then? And who do you want to be?” Gojo’s words are so soft, casual and almost friendly.
The question even seems like one of your nymph companions would have asked you. Except Gojo’s directed unflinching attention almost makes you fidget.
“I…” you don’t even know how to answer. Even as you try to gather a reasonable one, the words feel chained in your throat.
You instead sigh and return to braiding.
Eventually the words come out, more of a whisper than anything.
“I’m me…that’s all. And I want to continue just being me.”
It probably made no sense, maybe even sounded awfully simplified at all to the god who watched over the dead. But the words held heavy truth in your heart.
You might not fully know who you truly are, but the choice to figure it out, to grow and simply make decisions for yourself, is all you wanted. You don’t want to be a simplified extension of your mother or a piece to use in a marriage arrangement.
After braiding in another daffodil stem, you notice the king beside you has gone quiet.
When you turn to the side you discover the god of the underworld is gone.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧
Something dances in the air, an unknown sensation that tingles and crawls against your skin. It feels like a warning you can’t fully describe.
When you try to press your mother about the meeting she avoids the conversation completely. It causes enough anger to rise so quickly in you that thorned roses pierce your hands. Then, one morning she arrives at your side with the heaviest expression.
“Mother, please tell me, what is happening?” You try asking as earnestly as you can.
Your mother, with her emotional turbulent eyes like a brewing storm, instead walks over to you and tenderly holds you in her arms.
“Know everything I do, I do for you.” Then she vanishes.
You swallow back a frustrated scream and instead furiously stomp away to your spot by the river stream.
Thankfully none of the tree or forest nymphs come near you. They must sense your frustration or see the prickly cacti slowly starting to sprout around you like a safely sharp fortress.
“Did you finish my flower crown, petals?”
A twinkling voice comes swift. It galvanizes your body as you scramble up fast to whip around.
There behind you, with an amused ease, stands the king of the netherworld. At the sight of him, the cacti plants bloom wild and bright buds.
“I like the color of these.” Gojo smriks nudging his face towards them.
“What are you doing here?” You whisper.
“I’m sorry, petals, don’t have much time.” Gojo frowns and then squares up firmly. It stuns you at how broad and striking he looks, a black ink stain against the picaresque forest landscape that has you captivated.
His face is somber, a true image of a composed ruler.
“The others made a decision. You’re going to be married off to another young immortal. But… your mother is coming to get you. She plans to keep you locked away. Made a whole scene about it.”
The words pierce your heart, piece your lungs and maybe your very soul as you choke on an exhale.
Blinking away tears, you stare at the king.
“Why are you telling me this?” Your voice cracks.
“Because I believed you deserved to know, and that you deserved a choice.” Gojo answers but in its simplicity you find absolute comfort.
“So here are your choices…” Gojo continues and the scenarios flash a vivid picture in your head.
You can let your mother whisk you away and keep you locked by her side forever. Or you can let the lord of the sky decree all powerful and place you in a marriage with someone you don't even know.
“Or…” Gojo’s voice now dances optimistic and light.
“You can come back with me.”
The offer hits you with the force of a landslide. You sputter out nonsense, unable to process what you just heard.
Gojo decides to clarify himself.
“Come back with me.” He beams. “No one will know where you went. You’ll get to lay low for a while, maybe figure out what you want to do. You wouldn’t have to worry about anything.”
“And, best part of all? You get to enjoy as much time as you’d like with me.” Gojo sounds absolutely ecstatic at the idea.
Spending time with him and in the underworld however sounds like a terrifying punishment. Just the thought of the underworld itself draws a haunting dread. Would you be safe there? Could you even last long among the cold dreary depths?
The wind blows fluttering leaves around you. The strange sensation you sensed in the air arrives thicker and now the wind swirls like a warning. This time it urges you of your mother fast approaching with the fate tied with her.
Surprisingly, the lord of the underworld waits so patiently silent. Then, a cocky smirk twitches his lips, a silent challenge almost as if to say he might know your answer.
Your answer comes in three simple steps. Before you are even fully by his side, you blink and disappear from the surface.
In the forest, all that remains of you are the cacti now completely covered in glorious colorful blooms.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧
The underworld is a crystal dream.
When you first thought of the realm of the dead your mind conjured up a dreary desolate wasteland, one filled with anguish and wailing, dark hallowed hallways lined with skeletons. Instead gem lined caverns greet you wherever you go.
A solemn gloom however faintly hangs in the air and could not be ignored. You spot multiple shades, souls of those who have passed, wandering towards the different rivers or simply fading in and out at the edge of the castle. Death did soak this land. From a distance the looming light of Tartarus solidifies that haunting realization. The blood soaked fire orb flickered a chilling reminder of the dangers this realm posed.
“How long will I be here?” You had asked.
“As long as you want.” Gojo chirped. “You can leave whenever you want. Can take all the time you need to figure out what you want to do.”
It was warm and heartfelt. However…
“There are only two rules I need you to follow.” Gojo had added ominously and shattered the warm welcome. The rules were simple.
Never go to Tartarus.
And never eat anything from this world.
Simple, but the ominous directness sparks your mind to wonder about what terrors really did lurk here. Besides those two warnings, Gojo welcomes you with grand excitement into his grand home.
That first night you arrived he practically bounced with every step as he showed you around the kingdom. You were so worried the sight of this world would scare you. Instead elation and even a tinge of appreciation blooms in you. You had never once imagined in your lifetime that you’d ever see this. A new appreciation emerges for this place that would be housing you until you figured out your path.
Gojo also introduced you to the two other immortals living within the halls of the underworld.
Shoko, the goddess of death, who with her stunning features and dreary eyes smiles so kind whenever she sees you.
Then there was Utahime, the goddess of magic, of spells and the crossroads.
“I hope you will enjoy your time here. The underworld has a special way of… revealing to us our true selves.” She had told you sagely. You enjoy browsing her vast collection of scrolls and you eagerly listen to any tales she shares with you.
Even during the times you spend with her or Shoko, the king of the underworld quickly arrives to your side like a persistent gnat.
You decide to take strolls along the charcoal sand riverside, a familiar tradition you did on the surface. Gojo accompanies you any chance he can.
He’s a curious creature and asks you a range of questions. What do you love most about the surface? What do you dream of? What color do you associate with yourself? You answer them all and then some. You tell him about the nymphs, your friends, about the days you used to grow sunflowers so big they would rival trees.
He snickers, makes playful commentary, but listens with full rapture. His attempt to know you better has you grudgingly slowing easing into his presence.
As much as you enjoy the time spent along the riverside, it doesn’t compare to your favorite place in the entire underworld.
The Elysian Fields stole your breath away the moment you first saw them. You never believed anything organic could grow in a realm meant to harness and hold the dead. Yet the fields stretched before you in wonderful waves of green, of color, of life.
It’s why you spend so much time here.
Among the grass and the trees, your mind can freely wander. Your mother must be upset. You could only imagine the pain she must be going through not knowing where you are. But frustration quickly leaks in remembering if you did return to the surface, what life could you be able to find there?
You dig your feet into the lush grass and try not to let poisonous annoyance overwhelm you.
“You look lost in thought.”
Gojo’s voice flutters in. Then his shadow falls over you. You don’t even have to glance your head up because the king of the underworld casually sits down beside you.
“Haven’t figured anything out yet huh?” He asks and you shake your head a quiet no.
“That’s okay. There’s no need to feel pressured or get upset about it. It’s a big decision, trying to figure out what path you want your life to take.”
You never expected him to be this comforting.
“Besides, it’s not often I get visitors here. So I’m enjoying your company as long as I can, petals.” A grin spreads across Gojo’s face as wide as a sunrise.
All you can do is yank up some of the grass and playfully throw it at him.
He laughs a bright snicker but you notice something very quickly. The grass never fully hits him. The slight distortion peaks your curiosity and you go to do it again.
“If this is your form of attack then I can only imagine how terrifying you’d be in battle.” Gojo teases but you pay him no mind because the grass again does nothing. It falls short from hitting him as if he’s protected by something.
Completely ignoring his comment, you ask him about the strange occurrence.
You appreciate how comfortable you’ve become here and with the god of the underworld to now ask such questions. The king’s lips twitch.
“What exactly have you heard about me?”
A strange question but one with a layered answer. Simply put, he’s the ruler of the underworld, considered the strongest of all the immortals.
When your mother had told you stories of the titan war, she never failed to mention the power the ruler of the netherworld held. And there is one image tied to him you remembered vividly.
“A helmet, I heard you wrote a helm that gave you immense power.”
The entire time here your mind has thought too much about the helm. You wondered what it looked like. What was more dangerous though was the curiosity, the desire, to see what he would look like wearing it.
Gojo’s face blooms with a toothy smile.
“It’s…not technically a helmet.”
Then the god playfully points at the blindfold across his eyes.
The grand helm has been in front of you this entire time and you didn’t even know. Of course he wore it constantly.
“That’s incredible.” You can’t help but fully admire the black cloth now. To think something as simple as this cloth was so strong to be considered a war helmet, it amazes you.
“I heard it made you invisible though. I remember asking about it!” You blurt out. That was another legend you heard about from a few of the nymphs.
“Oh? So you’ve asked about me, petals?” Gojo smirks slyly and your face heats up. Carnations rapidly blooming start to tickle your ankles and you immediately squish them.
“You know, I’ve always wondered where that rumor came from.” He hums, thoughtfully. “But no. I don’t have powers of invisibility. Instead I have something way more impressive.”
Pride swiftly leaks into his voice and flourishes more when his chest visibly puffs up. The vivid image of a colorful squawking peacock flashes in your mind and you almost snicker until Gojo raises his hand up.
“Hold your hand out for me please.” His voice drops lower and the tone jolts your heart. You wearily lift your hand up.
Gojo presses his hand against yours. Your heart beats faster, rivaling a humming bird’s wings, and you wait for the impact.
It comes. However, Gojo’s hand applies no actual pressure. You don’t touch his skin or brush against his fingers. Instead only liminal space floats between. The barrier can’t be more than a hair width away yet feels as if it’s oceans wide.
“What is it?” You ask breathless and intrigued.
“Infinity.”
Gojo explains how the helm, his powers, rely on the eternal force that is infinity. Everything repeats. Everything can be continued into an unbreakable cycle, the purest form of infinity.
“And what is more infinite than death? Even universes are born and die.” He speaks with an ancient patience. But, you swear you catch an underlying sadness in his voice just out of your reach. Or maybe it is just your own sadness that you were facing as you realized the weight upon Gojo’s shoulders.
He exists as the personified infinity of death’s cycle continuing over and over again and someone must watch over it. He is unable to step free from that cycle because he is it.
“You look so sad, petals. What? Am I boring you?” Suddenly Gojo’s jovial voice shatters your thoughts.
The black cloth hiding his eyes holds more weight than it did moments before.
Then you notice none has pulled their hands away, neither your or him. No one makes an attempt to move even now. You simply sit there with the space of infinity resting solid, unwavering, against you and Gojo just out of reach.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧
In the underworld, monotony can creep in easily. You find even after browsing all of Lady Utahime’s interesting collection of spells and curses, you grow restless.
“If you ever get bored,” Gojo previously told you. “You’re more than welcome to join me in the throne room.”
You had only seen the throne room during the first grand tour Gojo took you on. Now you stare at the throne room’s grand doors petrified to even open them.
“Why don’t you go inside? He would enjoy your company.”
Shoko’s calm sweet voice makes you almost bolt like a skittish deer. Caught red handed and the goddess of death sleepily smiles.
“Oh no. I couldn’t!” You sputter out.
For some reason, the thought of seeing Gojo on his throne, in his role as king of the underworld flickers something hot to boil under your skin. Shoko’s curious gaze burns a hole in the side of your face.
The goddess gives you a soft nod then continues her walk down the hallway.
“You know, there’s a hidden alcove above the throne room that can be accessed from the stairs…just a thought.” Shoko muses aloud glancing over her shoulder with twinkling amused eyes. Then the goddess turns a corner and leaves you alone with her words rattling in your brain.
Were you going to watch Gojo from the shadows?
Before you could even rationalize your thoughts you move quietly up the stairs until you reach your destination.
The alcove is a type of balcony obscured by the columns towering in the throne room. The view from high up grants you a wonderful sight of the entire room composed of marble and crystal. Instead of the imposing grand ruler you imagined sitting regally composed on his throne, the white haired god is sprawled half lying across the large throne. For some reason you’re reminded of a lounging lethargic cat and you bite your cheek from laughing.
Gojo stays reclining for some time. Eventually he does pull a scroll out from beside his throne and glances it over. At first you thought he appeared bored. But now as he sighs and flops to the other side of the throne childishly, you now think -
He looks lonely.
Even among the walls gleaming of the riches soaked in this realm, this incredibly boisterous immortal seems lonely. You even notice a hollow air rests in the room and reminds you of a day in winter when the earth seems frozen.
Then a giggle comes.
You wonder if maybe you misheard it. That is until a child quickly peeks from behind a column. The little girl pops out a bit more before returning to hiding.
Very quickly she scurries to a column closer to the throne.
Your eyes flicker to Gojo who continues overlooking the scroll on his lap.
The girl begins to tip toe closer and closer to the throne. You now wonder how the king will react. She seems gleeful, unafraid of him. Especially as she approaches with the proudest toothy grin on her sweet face.
Then Gojo whips around to her.
“GOT YOU!” He shrieks proudly and even points at her accusingly. She jumps like a scared little rabbit until she hunches over laughing. Her joy fills the throne room with so much warmth you find yourself smiling at the interaction.
“I got closer this time!” The girl stomps pouting and her face puffs up adorably.
“You did! I have to give you credit for that Rika.” Gojo addresses the girl with a delighted friendliness.
“I’ll get you next time!” The girl, Rika, announces sternly as her face furrows determined.
“I believe you.” Gojo nods and you even believe him.
The girl narrows her eyes harder at the king but then she quickly giggles.
“Why don’t you go back and play in the fields, Rika? It's much nicer than playing around here in this boring place. Trust me I don’t even enjoy being here sometimes.”
They both share a giggle and Rika beams up at him so kindly.
A molten smile draws over Gojo’s face and your heart melts. Softness, gentless, looks wonderful, beautiful even, on his handsome features.
“Alright you little pest, head back to the fields you go.” He playfully shoo’s Rika away with a dismissive wave and she sticks her tongue out at him.
Turning on her heels, you watch Rika slowly fade into the air. A sadness settles over you knowing this young girl passed away so young. But, it comforts you seeing how joyous and bubbly she is even in the afterlife.
Then, it slowly dawns on you.
The lord of the underworld is not the terrifying monster whispered to be. He is a silly terror, a bit eccentric, but a kind man.
Your eyes glaze over staring at nothing in particular and you decide to leave as well.
As you rise from your little secret perch a shadow looms across you. Glancing up, the lord of the underworld towers grins down disgustingly victorious.
“Well now, aren’t you just the sneakiest little weed I’ve ever seen!”
His comment pulls an indignant shriek out of you as you scramble up. Your face is on fire and you storm away in fast rapid stomps.
Gojo follows fast behind laughing so loud it bounces off the walls and echoes among the throne room.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧
Days come when tears sting your eyes thinking about the surface. You do miss your mother.
You miss the feeling of the sun on your face, the breeze of autumn fluttering in for the change of the season. You can’t even remember how many days have passed since your arrival in the underworld.
But even thinking about returning to the surface terrifies you stiff. It makes your stomach turn because you know your answer to what lies above.
You don’t want to be in an arranged marriage and you don’t want to be locked to your mother’s side. There was no middle way, or other option between these two.
You stay in your room for a few days, wiping away the tears.
Eventually out of your clouded haze a soft knock arrives at your door.
Gojo waits on the other side. You don’t like how effortlessly your heart jumps seeing his tall stature leaning against the door, a striking ink stain with his black robes. His lips are a small but sad crooked grin.
“Can I show you something?”
You wordlessly nod and follow his lead. He doesn’t press you about your sudden cloistering. He doesn’t try filling the space with talk. You’re grateful in the silence that he understands.
Through different corridors of the castle this area feels unfamiliar and a spark of curiosity flickers in you. Then Gojo stops.
There in the shade of the hallways, a secluded large square open area is before your eyes. The area seems out of place carved out from the marble and gem walkways
“What is it?” You feel a bit foolish asking.
Gojo grins wide beside you. “Why don’t you go and find out?”
You give him an incredulous and worried look. This could be a playful trick. Utahime had warned you how notorious the lord of the underworld was at playing surprise tricks which included hiding behind corners to scare anyone passing by.
“I promise, you’ll like it.” Gojo however reassures you with a gentle earnestness. So with a sigh you walk and step into the patch.
Beneath you is actual soil. It’s soft, smells of comfort and you can’t help it, a watery laugh escapes you. How long has it been since you felt the earth above?
Even since you visited the Elysian Fields, you discovered an ominous truth about your favorite spot.
“Nothing can grow there.” Utahime told you sadly. “While everything is lush and beautiful and cannot die. However, nothing can grow as well.”
But you remembered the carnations. You knew they bloomed when you were there and you revealed that to Utahime.
Her lovely face scrunched up in wise thought and her eyes became distant.
“Unfortunately it could have just been a simple fluke. The Elysian Fields are meant to be a place of peace. Maybe it was trying to comfort you as well… let you feel some sort of semblance of the surface world.”
The thought was comforting but also carried an ocean abyss of sadness. Understanding nothing could grow here in this world made sense.
But now you sat on solid soil, true soil from above.
You scramble to your knees and can’t help but dig your hands through it. The cushiony familiar texture, the smell that has been with you since you were a sapling. Tears threaten to cloud your vision.
Turning around, Gojo is there leaning against the hallway’s frame and beaming bright like a marigold.
“How?!” You ask breathlessly, unable to still process this.
“I have my ways.” Gojo coyly replies. More questions only rise in you but you quietly set them aside.
“Utahime said nothing could grow here.”
“Hm…that is true. But, why not give it a try?” Curiosity oozes out of him.
So you decide, why not. With your hands in the soil you inhale and the magic in your veins flickers to life.
You clutch the dirt tight in your grasp as if trying to hang on to this last sense of who you are.
Out of the earth. a small green sprout suddenly peeks out.
Absolute excitement and giddiness unfolds in you like a wild hurricane. You can’t help but snap your face back to Gojo in pure joy.
A wide open and even a bit proud smile illuminates his handsome face.
“Well look at you, petals! Nice work. Although I was expecting a tree or something, that little thing is nice I guess!”
You playfully throw a handful of dirt at him. It’s childish but it’s the only way you can fight the fondness growing in you, a festering weed you don’t know if you want to eradicate.
Gojo breaks out in amused cackles. His cheeks puff up and you can almost sense the amusement in his covered eyes.
“I’ll let you enjoy.” He pushes off the hallway frame and is about to turn around when you quickly call to him
“Wait.”
He freezes and glances over his shoulder.
You have to ask. “Why did you do this?”
Now the god of the underworld fully turns his attention back to you.
“Do what?”
You sigh exhausted at his innocently coy reply.
“Why did you do this? Give me this plot of land?”
Gojo’s lips, which you have been alarmingly thinking about more, turn into an eased crooked smile.
“It’s a gift. You’re my guest here and my friend. So why not?” He replies anticlimactic, even shrugs.
The answer is not satisfying and it slightly irritates you. But you’re still grateful. You might not know the true reason why he did this and might not ever know. But Gojo still did this for you all the same.
So gathering that gratitude you smile at him, a true earnest one.
“Whatever the reason is…Thank you, Gojo.”
This is the first time you say his name. Just the taste of it in your mouth leaves a strange tingle.
The ruler of the underworld’s face. It drops so fast that you barely catch it. But it was there. A look of pure surprise, confusion and something else you can not pinpoint. But all of that quickly vanished only to be replaced by a smile radiating artificiality. Then Gojo vanishes.
In this new space, you exhale against the new weight building in your chest. Leaves then begin tickling your hands and you glance down at your new blooms.
Pure confusion strikes because this is actually a brand new bloom.
You’ve never seen this flower before.
Delicate cotton white star-like flowers greet you and you’re afraid to even touch them. So many of them cluster around each other in rather tall stalks. They remind you of lilies in their shape but are smaller and have a fragility to their thin petals.
You stare at the blooms slowly filling out the area around you until you are completely surrounded.
Horror strikes you fast.
The cloudy white petals match the white hair of the lord of the underworld.
Unknown to you, as you sit frozen among your new flowers, wheat fields decay above on the surface.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧
As much of a king and ruler he is, boredom plagues Gojo most of the time. It doesn’t surprise you one bit.
He pesters you constantly in your garden now. Currently you threaten to grow Venus fly traps large enough to eat him.
“You know, I’d actually be interested to see that.” He muses light and you hate that the thought of creating such a thing has you curious as well.
Gojo and you exchange a glance. Soon enough a large Venus fly trap stands around the same height as the god.
“It’s huge!” He cries impressively and pride flutters through your chest.
Then the underworld's king sticks his whole head inside the opening mouth of the Venus flytrap and waves his hands with the brightest expression.
You scream in panic and Gojo cackles beyond entertained. He thankfully removes his head. It’s perfect timing as the plant’s prickly mouth snaps itself shut.
You are horrified but Gojo just continues to laugh.
He opens the plant’s mouth and starts moving it. Changing his voice to a high pitched tone, he begins talking as if he’s the plant itself in some sort of bizarre performance.
“I beg your garden?!” He shrieks in an absurd voice.
It’s ridiculous, unbelievable and you can’t help it. You burst into wild giggles that shake your body. You have laughed more in his company than you can even remember. You’re having true fun with him in a way that you can’t even remember experiencing with your old companions.
You remember previously noticing how lonely the god of death looked and it only made you wonder how you’ve also tasted loneliness. Always stuck to your mother’s side, living in her shadow, it grew lonely there.
“Don’t laugh at me! Just wanna have fun, be-leaf me!” Gojo continues in that shrill tone.
Now here you are laughing in pure fun at his antics.
Gojo quickly drops the performance and immediately asks you to make a lotus as small as a clover. It’s tricky but when the flower unfurls a tiny lovely blossom in the palm of your hand, Gojo cheers.
Then you start thinking of jacaranda trees the size of bonsai. With a furrowed concentration you form a beautiful miniature tree. The lovely violet blooms even so small color the area exquisitely.
“You’re incredible.” He breathes out the words and they almost sound in awe.
You try not to get flustered but it is hard with his attention so intently focused on you. Instead you wave your hand out. Playfully a bunch of cherry blossoms nearby rapidly swirl in a whirlwind of petals all around him
Gojo shouts an amused ecstatic cheer, flinging his hands up among the petals. You snicker even more.
It becomes a game. Gojo offers new plant ideas or to grow vegetation he never knew existed. His face genuinely scrunches up at the odd smelling plants you call forth and you snicker pleased at his reactions.
Eventually you take a seat and start to make a few flower crowns. One particularly is for the young girl you saw in the throne room, Rika, and who you’ve caught now a few times peeking at you from around the palace columns.
No surprise but the lord of the underworld takes a seat right by your side.
“A flower crown huh… You know, you never made the one I asked for when we first met.” He comments with the worst pout.
Of course he remembers that. You had even forgotten about that meeting by the riverbank.
You scan around looking for something to use until you spot the perfect crown.
Reaching to a nearby shrub, you break off a bare small twig. You regally place it on top of Gojo’s head.
“Aw!” His deflated reaction, seeing this powerful god with a simple twig on his head, has you snickering. Then you realize Gojo stopped his infinity barrier for you to place it on him.
You don’t even want to linger on that thought. So violently shoving it away, you continue braiding the flowers. You concentrate hard, even scrunch your face as you weave in lily stems.
A delicate but soft crawling sensation suddenly dances across your leg. The culprit is a branch from a leatherleaf fern Gojo has plucked. You wiggle away in a panic.
He again drags the delicate green leaves to playfully tickle you and try squirming away from him as much as you can. An urge to even hiss at him rises.
“What?! Are you ticklish, petals!?” Gojo beams with excitement.
“No, you’re just annoying!” You reply sharply trying to stay calm.
The king however is patient and stubborn. Instead of relenting he wiggles the fern’s large leaves firmer across your arms then to your shoulder where it meets your neck.
You squeal, laughing so unattractive as you wiggle away with all your might to flee from his playful torment. You can’t even chide him to stop, too caught up in the wild infectious giddiness taking over.
Your body buckles under the ministrations very slowly until your back rests on the solid soil ground. Your eyes snap open.
There, the god of the underworld leans over you.
Gojo is handsome. You knew that from the first moment you saw him. But now you take in how wide his shoulders are, how celestially white his hair glows, and how compromising, as well as dangerous, this position is.
Your mind had started drifting more and more towards deeply temptatious thoughts of him. Thinking of how your hands would grasp his broad shoulders, wondering how his body without any barriers would feel pressed over you.
A dizzying fire licks through your veins. Gojo finally stops his tickling bombardment and now stares down at you. Even without seeing his eyes they pierce you with a hypnotic pull.
A moment passes or maybe a millennial has. Time ticks by too molten to process.
You want him. You hate how badly you want this infuriating man. You hate thinking about how easy it would be to lean up and kiss him. As tempting as that idea is, how much it consumes you, you remember a heavy truth. If your lips leaned up to kiss him you would only find infinity.
Before anything else can be said or done you rapidly spring up from the soil like a new bud. You say nothing. Neither does Gojo. Quickly you return to braiding your poor discarded flower crown. He remains quiet long enough you wonder if maybe he left your side quietly.
Until the ground shifts besides you as Gojo moves to stand.
“Don’t let the plants eat you, petals. You wouldn’t make good fertilizer.”
You can’t even find a quick retort to shoot back at him.
When you reach for a few roses to add their lovely color to the floral wreath, you wince. A sharp prickling sensation stabs your fingers.
Drawing your hand back you see your golden blood, the ichor of an immortal, dripping down your fingers.
Suddenly an image flashes wild and frantic in your mind.
Gojo appearing before you suddenly. He inspects your wounded hand. Instead of applying a wrap or even allowing you to heal with time as all immortals can, he delicately places your bleeding fingers into his mouth. He sucks on them gently and fierce. His tongue swipes against your wound, against the blood. He moans, loud, debauched, and it mixes with the wet slurps. He sucks and sucks without any desire to stop. His tongue fondly runs up again along your fingers. The pressure of his mouth, the warmth of it, letting yourself bravely trace his teeth, then feeling him playfully bite your skin…
You scramble out of your thoughts as a slick liquid heat pools between your legs. Grabbing your flower crown, you storm off to your room praying to flee from the god of the underworld haunting you.
But you know it is hard, almost impossible, to outrun and hide from a god.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧
“I have to leave for a few days.” Gojo explains as he sits besides you in the garden.
The garden has now become a lush oasis for you. Various ferns happily grow to one side. A few fruit trees already take root and grow steadily. So many flowers sprinkle beautiful clusters of colors all across the space.
Of course your new white flowers continue to bloom patiently and delicately. Wherever you turn, so many seem to pop up. It's to the point even Gojo made a comment upon seeing the new florals.
“Oh? These look new.” You ignored his curious comment.
Now you ask about his trip with the same curiosity.
“Leaving? What for?”
A pause comes.
“Unfortunately there’s been a recent increase in the amount of newcomers arriving in our realm.”
You don’t miss the way your heart jumps hearing him say “our realm.” The main issue at hand however has you concerned.
“Do you think it’s a sudden war? Or a natural catastrophe?” Your heart twists thinking about either terrible possibility.
“Don’t know. That’s why I’m heading up to figure it out.” Gojo sighs.
You nod understandingly and sympathetically to Gojo. Even with his eyes covered, his gaze seems to stare somewhere far away. Then he quickly averts his attention to the budding trees you’re tending to.
“This one seems to be doing great here.” Gojo notes curiously. He leans closer to you, a pressure softly pushing against you. Any giddiness of having him so close is quieted by the truth that it’s infinity against you.
“It is.” You agree happily. “Pomegranate trees are resilient. They just need the right soil and can bloom with much worry. They even can handle different types of pests.”
Gojo hums a curious thing.
“Sounds a little familiar, don’t you think?” He comments but his voice is deep, low. Hearing his tone this way sparks a dangerous desire to life and it drags its claws down your spine.
“Familiar how?” You hesitantly ask.
Something gentle, barely with the lightest of pressures, runs across the back of your hand. You think it might be his fingertips. Your body reacts, galvanized in a frenzy. But when you whip your head to the side, the king is gone.
As you sit alone in your garden, you almost scream.
When the time comes to bid Gojo farewell, you now wonder how you’ll handle truly being alone without him.
“Don’t miss me too much, petals.” He teases and you roll your eyes.
“Please, I’m going to enjoy having this place all to myself.” You scoff.
Gojo grins like a cat that’s caught a canary and then, he leaves without another word.
In his absence you find, at first, you do enjoy the peaceful solitude. But that gets old quickly because stars above you do end up missing him.
You didn’t realize how much your existence here has now become so entrenched with Gojo’s. You miss the strolls you and him take. You miss his questions about the new blossoms growing. You even miss the way he playfully throws figs at you at dinner while you sit not eating a single bite. It has become not just a friendship with the underworld’s god but a true deep bond with him.
“Can you stop with the wistful sighing please?” Utahime sternly asks as you lounge in her study.
“I’m not wistfully sighing!” You stammer out embarassed.
“Uh huh.” She does not seem convinced but also does not press the subject further. The goddess of magic instead stays completely focused on her piles of scrolls scattering her area.
The underworld seemed to be slowly constricting around itself. A tension tightened the air. Everyone, even Shoko, seemed scarce and occupied. Whatever was occurring above on the surface was greatly impacting this world.
You decide to leave Utahime to her devices and slip away quietly.
Now you wander the edge of the royal grounds. Your eyes scan the realm stretching out before you. There, like a lantern among the darkness, the fluttering flickering red light of Tartarus shines unwavering.
It is the last place that you have yet explored.
You remember Gojo’s rule, his warning about not going to it
However, a small twinkle inside you even feels as if it’s being drawn there by a soft gentle pull.
You could just walk and see it from the outside, not even enter its gates. No harm would come from just inspecting the grand prison from a closer distance right?
Before you can stop yourself your feet guide you across the river’s path to the other side.
The atmosphere distorts into something sinister like the way the air hollows out before a terrifying storm.
Soon the crystalized rocks become jagged spikes. A smell of sulfur fills your senses and a wave of heat begins to tickle your skin. Soon the glowing red is now a vibrant bleeding sun before your eyes.
You dare not step any closer.
Terror slowly claws over your body. This is as close as you will get and will ever get. You turn around to walk back.
“…Little flower…” a soft raspy voice sends a horrifying chill up your back.
Your head snaps to the side. A creature unravels from the bottom of a rock and stares up at you with tree branches like eyes.
A cursed soul.
Something now besides the creature wiggles from the ground. It morphs and shifts from a clay like structure to take the shape of man. He reminds you of a patch quilt and his body screams that he too is another cursed soul.
“You are far away from home, little goddess.” The curse coos.
You can’t even speak as fear chokes your throat.
Move, you have to move! Something inside you screams. It sounds almost like Gojo.
Before you can move, hands, or maybe branches of some sorts, suddenly snap around your legs and yank you back. A scream escapes you or maybe you believe you hear a scream.
Everything happens fast. Your body is dragged and pulled closer to the prison. Laughter cackles sinisterly all around you and you thrash as much as you can. Tears clog your eyes. You wonder if this is it, if this will be how your end greets you. You swat at anything you can reach, but the panic is rising more and more.
Then a blinding heat sears under your palms.
You can’t help it, your eyes squeeze shut and your hands feel as if they have exploded.
Then the pressure is gone from across your body. Your eyes, water soaked with tears,
Your eyes open and you find you are free. No more decayed limbs and branches on your body.
You scramble up as best as you can. Your legs however give out from the amount of wounds sliced across you. You try to heal as quickly as you can but being around such sinister evil for so long has drained you.
Suddenly something rushes besides you and you are too late to react. The patchwork creature jumps on you. With a gleeful monstrous smile he morphs into like a cage claw against your body and has you in his grasp.
You scream but you can’t even hear it over the horrifying laughter. You thrash, try to free yourself again, but your body grows too exhausted to even move. Your vision begins blurring.
Then another scream of anguish comes but you can’t even process what or who it is.
Your body is released. You pitch forward, unable to hold yourself up anymore. Then someone catches you.
“Petals.” Gojo’s voice rings panicked in your ears. You wonder if he is a figment of your imagination. Before you can even focus, your vision gives out and you fade into oblivion.
The next thing you know, you wake up in the comfort of the softest sheets and a place that is not your quarters.
When you come into consciousness and see the grandness of the room, the dark shade of the walls, you piece together quickly this is Gojo’s bedchamber.
A new type of panic grips your heart and you scramble up.
“Careful, careful!” Suddenly the man himself reprimands you in a quick panic. Gojo sits up from his chair beside the bed. Whatever emotion lies in your eyes freezes him from approaching you.
“What happened?” You ask in a small whisper. You wonder if it was all a nightmare, a terror fueled fever dream.
“I found you in Tartarus.” Gojo replies. This is the first time his voice has sounded this upset. His face darts away from you.
“What were you thinking? What were you even doing there?” His voice is sharp as a blade’s edge and it cuts you swiftly.
Your reason now sounds so childish.
There have been multiple times when you rolled your eyes at Gojo’s antics. You believed him to be a fool, a childish king who has not grown up, a result of being alone for so long here in this realm. But now you wonder if you are the foolish one.
You croak out an apology that rips your heart open. Squeezing your eyes shut you try to stop the tears from coming but it’s no use.
“I just…I just wanted to see. It was…it was something you wouldn’t understand. I’m sorry.” You apologize again. A poisonous frustration and anger at yourself for being so foolish fills you. If you had only listened.
Suddenly a hand rests gently on top of yours. No barrier, no infinity. Just Gojo’s soft larger hand enfolding yours. It’s warmer than you expected.
Gojo does not yell, doesn’t even say anything else. He simply sits besides you staring so concerned but understandingly. You squeeze his hand and more tears form rivers down your face.
The underworld’s king stays by your side the entire time.
Right before you fall asleep, still in the king’s bedchamber, you swear the most delicate and tender touch runs across your face.
Once you are healed Gojo, holding your hand, takes you back to Tartarus.
“I should have showed this place before.” He explains quietly. “I could have only imagined your curiosity.”
You try to focus on his voice but it is hard when you try to process what lies before you.
“Wait…Are you sure we’re at Tartarus?”
“Uh…yes?” Gojo replies a bit confused but you are more confused than he is. Because there is no possible way this could be the same place.
The same burning furious fiery glow is now a simple flicker of a flame like a dwindling candle. All the rocks and sharp spikes have been crushed and leveled into debris cluttering the whole area. The air even holds a haunting stillness. This reminds you of a forest after a fire, a quiet entombment that spoke of a tremendous fury. Did he do this?
You realize as much as you want to know, you want to leave even more.
A squeeze of your hand is all you have to say before Gojo squeezes back. In a blink you and him are back at the palace’s main atrium. But a quest stands there waiting.
“Ijichi!” Gojo cries bright and happily.
Your eyes go wide.
The messenger of the gods. You had seen him in passing and even then you found him to be an uptight god. Now his face is hardened and upset. His keen eyes spot you and his mouth drops.
Ijichi cries your name and something inside you falls.
“What brings you here Ijichi?” Gojo asks with a twinkling curiosity.
“You know exactly why I’m here Gojo!” The messenger snaps and a part of you wants to shrink away. But, another piece of you knows you can’t run anymore.
You know why the messenger is here.
“I need to speak with you.” Ijichi urges with pleading eyes staring so intensely at you.
Reality weighs you down. You have to address this. You cannot keep hiding anymore.
So you let go of Gojo’s hand and you and Ijichi move to a private room.
You sit down ready to hear about your mother, about the urgency that you need to return to the surface world and face your fate.
But what comes to you instead plummets your entire soul. With a gentle but stern kindness tells you all that is happening.
Horror, dread, and all of their friends, fill your body.
The surface world is dying. Famine plagued the fields. Livestock is suffering. People are suffering.
All because of your actions.
Ijichi, bless him, is not accusatory, does not shame you or put blame.
“You need to return home with me. I’m sorry.” The messenger urges but sympathy seeps out.
You don’t hesitate to nod yes as tears come in tidal waves.
There is not much to take with you. You say farewell to your garden, to the beautiful palace, to Utahime and Shoko who both hug you incredibly tight.
But when you go to say goodbye to the lord of this world, he is nowhere to be found.
You do not have to search long. He sits in his study. This the most you’ve ever seen him actually use it and look so dashingly studious, regal, at work. He completely ignores your entrance and does not even spare you a glance.
“I’m leaving.” You announce. He stays silent.
You swallow hard and compose yourself.
“Thank you so much for letting me stay here for as long as I have. You’ve been a wonderful host.”
A wonderful friend. A wonderful companion, and maybe something even more wonderful, so fond and dangerous, you dare not speak its name.
He stays quiet and you are about to walk out of the door when suddenly Gojo’s hand grabs yours in a rapid grip. Your heart trips over a skipped beat from feeling his true hand clutching yours.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” He argues.
“I have to go back. I have to face this.” You urge even though your voice wavers waterlogged.
“You don’t have to. We can figure this out.”
He does not want you to go.
You even accept you don’t want to either. Not just because you fear the truth awaiting you, but because you’ve become terribly attached to this place, attached to him.
At first you wanted to laugh it off as simply being stuck here and left with no choice but to just tolerate the god of the underworld. Instead you found you sought Gojo on your own more and more. You wanted to know him, not as a ruler of the eternal realm of death but as the man you learned hates pickled radish and loves any type of sweet treat.
You swallow hard and shake your head.
“I can’t keep running away.” You even surprise yourself at how firm, how solid and unwavering, your voice resonates.
Gojo’s hand releases yours. The air brews tense and thick. Then the god of the underworld lifts his blindfold up.
Your heart stops.
Beautiful ocean blue eyes stare at you. Of course his eyes would be luminous pools.
You can’t speak, don’t know what to say.
“Satoru…” he instead speaks first. “That's my true and first name... Thought you should know it before you leave.”
The gift he is presenting to you is immense. No mortals know the true name of your kind. Even you are addressed by a secondary name so tightly tied with your mothers.
Now he is giving you this pure full piece of himself. His eyes, his name, his heart, all are pieces you tenderly lock away in your heart. They hold more precious value than any of the gems buried in this land.
Before you can even reply Gojo leans forward.
With the most delicate of pressure, he kisses your forehead. Your eyes water but now for another emotion too grand to process while you drown in its waves.
He whispers out and says your name, your pure true name. He’s never said it before.
Then he disappears.
You swallow back a deep sob and return back to the atrium.
Gojo is nowhere to be seen even when you head to the stairs that lead back to the surface.
Before you leave, Utahime gives you one final hug then discreetly slips something into your hand. It’s a simple cloth with a sigil on it. You had seen her work on these types of spells many times and knew they all had various uses.
“Should you ever need us again or want to return, just use this.” She whispers low in your ear.
You clutch it tight, like a lifeline. When you go to give one final glance back to the underworld, the king is missing. You can’t find him anywhere and heartache clogs your throat. So you turn your back to the darkness and step into the light of the surface.
The smell of the air hits you first. The crisp scent of the dying leaves arrives in the brisk breeze. A barren earth stretches out before you and you walk into the desolation to meet your fate.
The sky above is a clouded muted gray.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧
Your mother is furious, absolutely in a rage that would rival a tsunami. But thankfully with your return the earth flourishes overnight as if by a miracle. The lush green should be a comfort to you. The smell of the sunlight should elevate your spirit warm but instead you ache for the soft glow of the gemstone walls.
“You have two choices.” She tells you sternly. “Either marry the immortal chosen for you or stay here with me.”
You stay quiet and she snaps out your name, a part of you wants to laugh because it sounds like a curse.
“Answer me!” Your mother demands and you break.
“I dont want neither!” You cry back. “Can’t you see?! The reason I ran away to the actual place of death is because I cannot pick either! Because I don’t want to!”
“Could you truly be so selfish?!” Your mother accuses you with a seething venom.
Selfish. Were you being selfish?
You once discussed this with Gojo because you had wondered many times if you were simply being a selfish brat running away from your problems.
“I don’t think so.” He shrugged. “Isn’t it selfish of you mother to want to keep you beside her forever? Besides, if you are being selfish then who cares. Nobody realizes it’s actually okay to be somewhat selfish every once in a while, especially when you’re deciding what direction your life is going to take.”
His voice becomes a soothing balm to your frustration.
So you bare your soul and heart before your mother. You could never be happy being forced to wed another. Nor would you ever be satisfied staying stitched to your mother’s side. You need your freedom. You wanted and deserved to have your own choice away from those options.
Her eyes flicker a kaleidoscope of emotions. She thankfully lets you speak the entire time without interruptions. When you are done, she gently walks forward and embraces you. You squeeze her tight.
“I’m sorry, my little sprout.” She comforts you.
You exhale, relieved.
“That damn monster of the underworld,” she says with a steady anger. “He filled your brain with nonsense.”
She pulls away and your face falls in horror.
“Don’t worry. I already plan to discuss with Gakuganji a meaningful punishment for him.”
You cry out a plea to her. But she simply smiles and pats your cheek.
“You won’t have to worry about him or anything else ever again.” She affirms confidently
Your frustrated scream falls on an empty room as she leaves in the breeze of the wheat fields. Emotions bubble up in you so wildly that your head begins to throb.
The panic clouds your vision. What will happen to Gojo? Why couldn’t your mother listen to you? Then an idea quietly emerges among the chaos.
You remember the slip of cloth tucked away in the private corner of your chambers.
Before your mother could come back, before you can even fully think, you race to grab it. You trace your finger along the intricate ink and then close your eyes.
When you open them, you are in the underworld, back in your garden.
It is as lush and beautiful as the day you left it except now the trees have grown in beautifully. Their shady leaves flourish against the marble and crystal. Your eyes land on the lone tree standing so firmly among the others.
The pomegranate tree flowers happily in full bloom filled with a fruitful harvest.
You remember the discussion you had with Gojo over these trees. You spoke of how resilient they were, and he quietly offered how familiar that sounded. The beautiful reddish violet fruit you now pluck so effortlessly from the branches you recognize is you.
You grew and flourished, gained a new sense of yourself. You carved out an existence here and bloomed into a new life.
You act fast. With all your strength you smack the fruit against the bark of the tree. Thankfully it cracks open to reveal the glistening seeds inside.
A conversation you had with Gojo has been playing in your mind since you returned to the surface.
“Why can’t I eat anything here?” You asked the first time you joined him for dinner.
“As tempting as these cakes are,” he grins, taking a large bite out of the sugary sweet.
“Eating anything from here means…you’re pretty much stuck here forever, petals. And I don’t think a pretty bud yourself could handle that now could you?”
Those words echo more than ever as the pomegranate seeds stain your fingers.
You could handle it. In fact you want to embrace it. A life here, with Gojo. You knew the consequences awaiting you. A part of you even screams to stop.
But you instead scoop out a handful of seeds and swallow them swiftly.
Their juicy delightful nectar fills your mouth. If this is being selfish, you think it has never tasted sweeter. You wait thinking there would be a reaction to doing this, to stealing yourself to this world. The only thing that comes is someone breathing out your name.
You snap your face to the side. There Gojo stands completely frozen.
His blindfold is missing. The ruler of the underworld now stares at you with his bare wide cerulean eyes that rival a field of bluebonnets.
“Petals…” Confliction strangles his voice and his eyes flicker to the pomegranate in your hand.
“What are you doing here? What did you do?” You don’t think you have ever heard him sound this confused and panicked.
“Satoru.”
His name, it’s all you can say. It’s a prayer so beautiful you never want to stop saying it.
You blink and the king vanishes. Then he is before you. His hand clutches your face firm and he swoops down to kiss you.
You can’t help but whimper as your breath gets stolen from your lungs. You clutch onto the god tighter, desperate to get as close to him as you can.
Under your touch infinity disappears.
Satoru’s tongue slips effortlessly into your mouth and explores with a chaotic mess. You taste the same desperation he has mirroring your own.
He lifts you up effortlessly with one hand and it makes you squeak. Then, the two of you are whisked away.
When you arrive in his chambers a frantic edge is set ablaze as Satoru presses you against the cool wall of his room. He effortlessly grinds against you and another whimper leaves you to get caught against his lips.
You are drunk on the taste of him. You don’t even care how loud you pant because you are too afraid this moment could end at any moment.
Satoru starts to kiss the corner of your lips. He quirky nips sharp bites against your skin and your eyes close in bliss.
He kisses across your cheek, down your neck, alternating between kissing and softly biting.
Then cool air tickles your bare kiss soaked neck and your eyes wearily open.
Satoru is now on his knees.
His hands reverently run against your delicate robes. A meditative but possessive gleam darkens his eyes making them look like deep trenches.
He kisses your exposed thigh and you tug at his soft white hair. His rich cobalt eyes now flicker up to you.
You sigh out his name with a slight whine as you miss his lips against yours.
“Shh...” he urges softly as he bites at your skin again harder. Your hips rise on their own accord. He chuckles deep and thick.
“Let me worship you.” He whispers with reverence with eyes drenched in delicious lust. It’s the last thing he says before his tongue suddenly licks an intent path up your thigh straight to your sex and you see stars.
Eventually he carries you to his grand bed where you now lie against him.
Love drunk in the afterglow you can’t stop giggling at how Satoru continues to kiss any inch of your body.
“You really are the terror of the underworld.” You snicker playfully.
“Oh of course. Can’t let you forget my reputation.” He beams proud as he kisses your fingertips once again.
His chest is solid and warm under you as you rest against him. His heart beats like a beautiful strong drum you can rest your ear against and hear now. Instead you slide up higher to burrow your face against his neck. All of this is intoxicating and a gift you cherish.
But even in the afterglow, the weight of this union settles over a grim cloud.
“My mother is going to set the world on fire.” You mutter soft and pained.
“No,” Satoru kisses the top of your head. “The old geezer upstairs won’t let her.”
A comforting in his own Gojo way and you snort amused for a moment. Against his warm solid neck Satoru only draws you closer to him. The two of you stay in bed for what feels like a millennia but still not enough.
You are about to slide out of the bed when the god of the underworld whines grabbing you back like a child refusing to let go of their favorite toy.
“I need to get ready.” You softly say as you run your fingers through his cloud white hair.
“No.” He pouts. “You’re stuck here with me forever now, petals.”
That is true.
“I am, but you know I can’t avoid this.”
As you go to slip on the new beautiful robe that of course Satoru had ready for you, he blurts out-
“Marry me.”
Your knees almost give out.
You screech out a confused noise and whip your attention back to him.
“Are you serious!?”
“As serious are you were when you banged that poor pomegranate against a tree!” He fires back.
In a blink Satoru is suddenly holding you in one of his arms while the other cradles your face in his hands.
“Marry me.” He repeats again but this time his voice leans sincerity. “Let me annoy you for the rest of eternity by your side as your husband.”
You don’t hesitate. You pull his face towards you and kiss him desperate. The poor robe you slipped on is hastily yanked off and you are returned back to the cooling bed sheets.
“You know,” Satoru muses playfully as you rest again tangled up in his arms. “I never heard you say an official yes or no.”
You lift your head up and give him an incredulous glare.
“You can’t be serious, Satoru.”
“You’re right.” He softly beams down to you. “The amount of times I heard you screaming ‘Yes Satoru! Yes my love!’ was the best answer.”
You grab the nearest discarded pillow and smack him with it. It fully collides against his too gorgeous face and he laughs at the collision. The tables turn when he swiftly snags the pillow from your hands and playfully retaliates. Your laughter and his bounce together so brightly in the room. It fills you with enough strength to finally face whatever fate awaits you.
Your beloved headache of a fiancé reassures you with one soft kiss to your shoulder.
Before you can even step out of the palace, the surface world’s entrance cracks open. From the shadows you see your mother and then beside her is the god of the skies himself.
“Oh ho! Well now…this is going to be fun!” Satoru cackles with excitement.
“Hey, my darling soon to be wife,” he turns to ask you. Even with his eyes covered again you know glee shines in them. “You want the old man’s head on a platter as an early wedding gift?!”
You almost choke on air. Of course you’re not the only one outraged at what he said.
Your mothers voice cracks the air with destructive anger
“You’re engaged to this monster?!” Her eyes are blistering fires threatening to scorch you where you stand. You reply a solid yes without hesitation.
“Aw! I didn’t realize you liked me so much already, my dear mother in law!” Satoru coos. Your mother flat out ignores him as do you.
“This is prosperous! Outrageous!” The lord of the skies, Gakuganji, thunders in an outrage rivaling your mothers.
“She ate food from this world, and is so bound here.” Shoko explains with a steadied ease.
“There is now way you will survive here any longer!” She seethes at you. “You are not meant for this world!”
“Actually…” Suddenly the poised voice of the goddess of magic herself flutters into the room. With a steeled conviction, Utahime steps forward. She explains how she has been watching you ever since your arrival and noticed changes happening.
“Growth, new life has emerged here. We have all witnessed it. On top of that, I think being here has unlocked new abilities I don’t think we even thought were possible.”
Powers?
“When you momentarily stopped those curses from Tartarus.” Gojo explains patiently as if he read your mind. Faintly you hear the horrified voice of your mother screaming Tartarus?!
“I did that?” You ask stunned.
“Yup, you did.” Satoru beams, prouder than ever.
“What is the meaning of this!?” Gakuganji demands.
“It means she can survive here. If anything it maybe even suggests she might have even been destined to be here.” Utahime replies steady.
Destined to be here.
You think of the words she once told you, about how the underworld revealed truths about one’s self.
“Even with that possibility, you stay here and there will be no peace.” Gakuganji urges.
You know the suffering that could come. Your mother is a stubborn creature who would never relent.
For some reason, you think of the bleeding heart flower. You think of their stems and how distinctly the flower seems to be two parts blended together beautifully. Some of the petals even have to curl open for it to grow. So you decide to split your existence in half.
“For half the year I will be here, in the underworld with my husband.” The word rolls effortlessly off your tongue and it feels right, feels as if you have always said it. “And the other half will be on the surface. Equal time to each place.”
Gakuganji hums a moment to consider.
“You cannot allow this!” Your mother pleads to the grand elder god.
“No one can undo what has been done. The fruit has been eaten and she’s tied to this world.” Shoko clarifies simply.
Satoru hums a playfully amused noise that makes you want to smack him upside the head. Instead you ask for the room to speak with your mother. Now it’s just you and her, as it has been for so many centuries. Except a canyon now stretches between you and her. She waits on the other side of it a vengeful fury.
“Did you do this to spite me?” Your mother asks pained. Exhaling exhausted, you shake your head.
“I did this because it’s my choice, and because I love him.” You tell her with a patience that even surprises you.
“And that’s all I’ve wanted. Not to choose between what you wanted me to pick but instead make my own decision.”
“You…you cannot love the lord of the underworld.” She croaks with so many emotions tangled in her voice.
Your lips tug as if Satoru himself pinches your cheeks into a smile.
“I’m sorry, but I can and I do.” Might be one of the hardest tasks you ever faced, but you would do it for all of infinity.
Your mothers eyes scan over your face. The emotions in them seem endless, a bottomless well that you can’t even swim in.
“You’ve grown, my little sprout.” Her voice wistfully comments. The two of you simply stare at each other.
After that she barely looks at you even after the others return.
The decision is made rather simply compared to the riotous calamity that preceded it. Six months with your mother and six months here. But of course, your mother declares your time on the surface begins now. Gakuganji agrees and your spirit pops.
Any moment of celebration, any hope of wanting to enjoy being here, decomposes in your chest. You gather yourself as best as you can.
“Can I at least say goodbye to my husband?” You ask.
“You are not even married yet.” Gakuganji sneers.
“We aren’t. But you could wed us right now and change that if you’d like, old man!” Satoru offers. The old god’s face crumbles up so disgusted you have to hold back a laugh.
Thankfully you’re allowed a moment of solitude with Satoru in his chambers. You embrace his tall frame and he holds you tight.
“My offer still stands. Just say the word and I’ll throw the old man in the one of rivers.”
“Satoru please.” You sigh.
“What?! All I am saying is there is still time, I could easily throw him in. He wouldn’t even know what hit him.”
A small snicker does leave you as you shake your head no.
“Fine.” Your soon to be husband sighs disappointed.
“So much for an engagement announcement.” Gojo teases trying to soothe the moment with humor but a question about your sudden engagement has been weighing on your mind. You need to ask him before you leave.
Holding Satoru’s hand you gently lead him to the beautiful carved out window nook. When he sits completely flush besides you, you reach over to draw his blindfold away.
His eyes are oceans you never wish to leave. But you will have to. Every six months you will be away from this man who has burrowed a hole in your heart and made it his home.
“Why do you want to marry me?” You ask.
His eyes scrunch up slightly curious but also as if he doesn’t understand your question.
“Because you’re my other half.”
That’s beautiful, but it’s not enough. You’re thankful Satoru senses that’s not the answer you wanted and he sighs dreamily.
“That first time I saw you, do you remember?” He begins.
At Olympus, that seems like centuries ago now.
“You had so many petals and leaves stuck in your hair. Yet, your face was so angry…like you could’ve ripped apart the mountain in half.” He explains fondly. “Now I have no doubt you could if you smack a fruit against it.”
“Hey,” you playfully laugh but it’s watery, soaked in disbelieving love.
“But you were incredible, this hilarious creature of both fury and flowers. I had never seen someone so beautiful.” Satoru adds
His hands now have moved to encompass yours.
“Do you think we’re rushing into this?” You question.
“Do you think we are?” He mirrors it back to you.
A piece of you agreed this is rushed. But then the ache inside of you already dreading leaving this man speaks louder than your doubt.
“Look,” he speaks first. “My life has been the same for so long. Like I got stuck in my own infinity and then you came stomping in… ”
Satoru’s cerulean eyes fiercely flicker up to you and he stares unwavering.
“I’d tear apart the skies for you.” He says simply “You make my life brighter. You and your scrunched up annoyed face you always give me. Your laugh. The way you talk to all your planets like they can speak back-“
“Plants respond better to hearing voices.” you croak interrupting him.
“It helps them grow faster, yes I know.” He finishes for you so cheekily and your heart is about to float out of your body.
“So you really want to marry me?”
Satoru rolls his eyes at your question.
“Petals, I wanted to marry you the moment you threatened to shove me in the River Styx during one of our morning strolls.”
You bark a watery laugh. “Don’t tempt me. I’d still do it.”
The god of the underworld suddenly breathes out your name.
Tenderly Satoru leans forward and kisses you. You don’t care that your mother is waiting for you. You simply want to enjoy this slice of eternity for as long as you can.
“I love you.” You whisper the words, a holy sigh, against his lips.
“That’s nice.” He muses. He’s lucky no throw cushions are nearby or else you would have smacked him.
It dawns on you that this is the closest to a wedding you will get until you return. So you pull away from his lips and vow yourself to him.
You vow to always roll your eyes and snap at him when he says something ridiculous. You vow to always now take the biggest bite out of his confectioneries even if he complains. You vow to be by his side until the cosmos collapses and even beyond that. But mainly, you vow-
“That you never feel lonely for too long ever again, Satoru.”
His eyes go wide, shimmering almost in awe. The king rushes forward and kisses you with a dizzying passion.
“We would make terrible marriage officiants.” He mutters against your lips.
“Who cares.” You scoff.
“Hm seems I’m rubbing off on you in many other ways, petals.”
You chide him for being crude and he snickers, your ridiculous husband.
“What a cute new queen you are.”
Queen. By marriage, by love, you are a queen now.
“Your crown is going to be a twig, like the one you placed on me that one time.” Satoru grins playfully.
“As long as you match with me.”
He laughs so freely and it’s beautiful.
The thought of being a ruler, a monarch, for some reason does not scare you. You thought it would. Instead it only comforts you knowing the king who would be beside you is Satoru.
This joyous bubble however deflates as you return to your mother. This would be it. This is your goodbye until six months from now. But even among the heartbreak, a wave of reassurance washes over you. Because it is just six months. Compared to a lifetime without Satoru, six months is a simple breeze.
Once again you bid goodbye to Utahime, to Shoko, both embrace you tighter than ever. After all, you are one of their own now. And your husband, your poor Satoru, now wears the most obnoxious teary face that makes you want to flat out walk away from him.
But of course you embrace and kiss your king softly.
“You better not kill my garden.” You warn against his tender lips.
“No promises.” He smiles.
As you’re about to start your journey, Satoru wails dramatically.
“One last kiss to remember me by!” Then making a horrendous kissing-like sound, he rushes to your side. You effortlessly hold your hand out to stop his face from reaching you. He weeps horrified while Shoko and Utahime kneel over laughing in unison.
You’re amused at his antics but among the hilarity, Satoru leans into your palm. Gently he tilts his face and leaves a soft kiss on the palm of your hand.
It grants you tremendous strength to start your journey.
As you reach the edge of the stairs, so close you can almost taste the sunlight, you turn around. The last time you did this, Satoru was nowhere to be found. Now he stands at the very edge of the bottom of the walkway.
A moment passes. It is just you and him staring at each other. You’re tempted to run back to him one final time. But you can’t. You inhale a deep resolve and Gojo looks on proudly as he nods.
“I’ll see you soon, petals.” His voice is low but you hear it, clear as day, even from the top step. You nod back, not trusting your own voice to reply.
His words give you the push to reach the surface.
The morning breeze tenderly greets you first. Your legs feel like they can give out from all the emotions rushing through your body. So you look down to focus on where you step.
There among the lush green grass your white underworld flowers already sprout below you. Your lips twitch trying to hold back a tearful laugh.
Glancing up you see the grandest blue sky stretching far and wide.
You’ve always loved the sky.
Except now your breath hitches at the sight.
Because the color above is the same captured and crystallized in your husband’s eyes.
In the endless blue you find a new reassurance about the growth waiting for you in this new life. You also think of Satoru waiting for you as well. With the open sky now a welcoming blessing, you walk confidently into this new life.
With every step you leave behind delicate cloud-white underworld flowers blooming beautifully among the grass.
#I’m so nervous and petrified about posting this but knowing like me & three other angels will read this is all that matters#anyway I hate Gojo and here I am writing a 14k epic for him LMAOO peak clown behavior HONK HONK 🤡#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#Gojo x reader#Gojo 🩵
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Captain John MacTavish x His wife x Sergeant Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish
I dont know how it would happen but i'm imagining sweet little Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish meeting Captain MacTavish and his wife. I guess this is me rewriting what happened bc Im made we’ll probably never see Neil as his boy again.
Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, don’t forget to leave me a comment or a request in my inbox to let me know what yall want to see!
Smut smut smut under the cut for my lovely mutual @shotmrmiller of my John and his wife meet sweet little Johnny au thing.
Also @glitterypirateduck this one is for you and #soapitup
“Bhean,” he whispers loudly, following it with squirrel noises, motioning for her to follow. She walks out of the recreational room. He nuzzled bis face into her neck, letting her know he was nervous about what he was going to say. “I'm getting serious deja vu.”
“Talk to me, Goose.” A shameless quote of their favorite date night movie from when they dated made his nervous face crack a smile.
“I have this crazy memory,” he mumbled into her neck, she always worried he’d hurt himself craning it down like that so often.
“What about, don’t leave me on cliff hangers, Mr. MacTavish.”
“Do you remember our first time together?”
“Skiing or fucking? Because I remember both very well.” He chuckled at her bringing up his failed skiing attempts from a vacation they went on.
“Making love, Bonnie.” He hummed, “would you believe me if I told ya it’s because I had done it before?”
“Considering baby you told me he’d call me mommy? Yes. Yes, I would.” She hummed. “You also found my clit really fast which makes that really reasonable in retrospect.”
“What if, like my future self taught me at that stage, we teach him how to make love to you so he can charm you with the monster.” It came out more as a question, making his nerves hammer against his chest. He was more than sure he beloved wife would say yes, but he didn’t want to risk making her uncomfortable or saying it wrong.
“He does really want to impress me,” she mumbled. “Fine. But there’s ground rules.”
“Of course, Mo chridhe, anything.”
“Just the tip, you know how I am about hygiene. I don’t fully try young you to keep everything clean. He swears to secrecy and if I ever think for a second he mentions this im ending his blood line. And you stay with us. You are my husband after all, not the boy.” The Captain nodded with every word. He’d make sure. He knew the Sergeant would want no harm to come to his future wife, and the Captain didn’t need a scorched relationship.
“Thank you, Mo leannan, it’s what helped me keep up hope I could lock you down when I met you when I was his age.”
“So it was a memory and more than deja vu?” She asked with a raised brow.
The Captain just simply nodded, planting a kiss on her temple, “you’d tell me if you wanted to back out right? If it made you uncomfortable?”
“John.” She was serious, she never called him just ‘John’. “I expect the same from you. And you’d know I’d never keep that from you.”
She reached up to his face and gently rubbed it. He melted just a little bit into her touch.
“I assume you don’t plan to do this on base?”
“No, but that’s the hard part.”
“I’ll handle it, go tell the mini you,” she said softly, planting a kiss before walking away.
The Captain sighed and let his shoulders relax, he knew he was so lucky to have her. The sergeant was about to be the lucky one though.
He made his way down the hall and stole his past self from a conversation with Gaz.
“My wife and I have decided to give you an opportunity to learn more about her.” He said in a low deep voice. “I will be teaching you about her body so you can please her but there are ground rules she set and a few of my own.”
Once he covered his wife’s, he got on to his own, “do not bite her, dig your nails into her, or ignore me if I tell you to do something. No coming inside either and don’t try anything.”
Sergeant Soap nodded along, “I’m not sure you’re actually listening, sergeant.” The Captain growled.
Soap’s eyes went wide, “Captain me, sir, I prayed last night for an opportunity to feel her skin, honestly I was just expecting to be allowed to shake her hand.” The younger Soap grumbled, “believe me, I’m all ears.”
“And none of that ‘I have a latex allergy so I can’t wear condoms’ crap. I know we don’t have that allergy. You will be wearing one.”
“You’re so no’ fun,” Soap mumbled. “Fine.”
The Captain didn’t entirely know how he felt about the kid creaming his wife. Sure, it was him, but it was a younger, rowdier, dumber him and not his same body. Getting married meant he was the only one allowed to cream pie his wife, and yes, it is a version of him, it wouldn’t be the same as him doing it. Even if his wife is on birth control and enjoys them, he knows he’d get jealous, way too jealous. Besides it’s his job anyway, he signed a paper to be able to do it, and this kid version gets to just randomly do it.
“So when do I get to show mo bhean how a younger body is better to make love with?” Sergeant asked, patting his older self on the back. This made the Captain flip until the voice of an angel spoke up.
“Ya mean when you meet yer own damn wife. Ya wee-” the Captain’s rage was cut off.
“Tomorrow night. I’ll be there ahead of schedule to prepare, my husband will drive you.” She said, walking past the two with effortless grace and a sway of her hips. She flicked a piece of hair back over her shoulder.
The next 24 hours were full of different forms of tension for younger Soap. He was eager, so eager, almost too eager in the Captain’s eye. The Captain’s raging jealousy made him almost want to shut down the whole thing.
When he loaded the sergeant and himself into the old truck he sighed. “Remember the rules?”
“Of course.”
“Can’t believe you still own this truck.”
“She’s carried me through a lot.”
“When you meet YOUR wife, she’ll appreciate it. Square bodies are her favorites.”
The rest of the drive was small talk. The sergeant saw a notification appear on the Captain’s phone and snatched it up, since the captain was driving.
He back read the short conversation from this morning between the Captain and his wife, who had been the notification.
‘Mo chridhe you better not warm yourself up on that clarty vibrator’
‘You expect him to be able to get me warmed up enough?’
‘Its a teaching experience, mo leannan’
‘I don’t want to make him wait too long, I remember how impatient you were <3’
“Does she think ima div?” Soap looked at the Captain and asked.
“Reading my personal texts? Real professional, ya eejit.”
“Does she think I can’t make her feel good? Or make her feel like she’s on Eccie?”
“No, she just doesn’t want you to wait too long. She does this. I bought it for her first time I left on a long mission, now she uses it to take away the fun part of getting her warmed up.”
“So she thinks I'm a fandan.”
“Dinnae fash yersel.” The Captain sighed, “we’re here and the least ya can do is make her feel good as a thank you.”
When he dragged his younger self into the hotel room, it finally set in that he was going to be cucked. By a younger him. Fucking his wife.
He knocked on the door twice and it kind of felt like his wedding night all over again. There she stood in a silk robe, eyes only on him with a gentle and soft smile. It's a smile she only gave when she was nervous, he gave a similar smile back to let her know he felt the same. It was subtle, but he reminded him this was indeed his beautiful wife.
“Go strip in the bathroom and sit down in the chair when you’re done, we need to talk.” The Captain said sharply.
“Aye aye Captain,” the sergeant mumbled, walking into the bathroom.
The Captain’s hands immediately found his way to his wife’s hips.
“Are you nervous?” He asked, holding her close with his mouth near her ear between kisses he placed in her hair.
“Of course,” she said softly into his chest.
“Do you need to back out? We can leave and forget all about this if you need.”
“Do you need me to want to back out?” She asked soft, turning her head to look up into his eyes.
“No, I don’t think so, mo bonnie lass.” He said, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Give me a safeword to give him and a safeword for emergencies.”
“Two levels of safe words?”
“Just in case I don’t hear the first one, he’s kinda loud.” She giggled and placed a kiss on his neck.
“Bubbles for him and Soap for emergencies.”
“My old callsign?”
“I never call you anyway,” she said softly, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Can I undress you and keep that privilege to myself?” All he needed was the little nod she gave before he moved to untie the robe.
The lace blue bra she had been taunting him with with the matching panties drove him crazy. She ran her hands up and around his chest as his opened the clasp with one motion and undid the hooks holding the straps over her shoulders so she didn't have to remove her hands from his torso.
He sunk down lower as he planted sloppy kisses down her body and removed her underwear. Lovely pacing a kiss at her lower lips before trailing bite marks backup as the Sergeant exited the bathroom.
“I thought you said I couldn’t bite!” He accused as he watched the Captain leave a hickey on his wife’s chest.
“YOU can’t, I can.” This made the younger Soap look offended. The Captain smirked at the Sergeant’s face. “My wife, remember. Not yours.”
His wife just ran her fingers through his slightly grown out mohawk, a means to sooth him.
Captain MacTavish moved to his wife’s ear and whispered softly, “may I told yer hand through this, mo ghraidh?”
“Gu sìorraidh is gu bràth,” she said back, pointing to the tattoo on her collarbone. When Soap heard it he almost fainted.
“She knows the language?” Sergeant Johnny asked.
The Captain hummed, pulling his mouth away from the dark hickey he was leaving on her neck, “learned a little bit for me.”
The Captain gave his younger self a once over before landing a sarcastic remark as his eyes landed on the bush, “glad to know you haven’t started shaving yet.”
“You trim?”
“Occasionally,” the Captain pulled his waistband down a bit, nuzzling into his wife, “I wax for special occasions. Yer lucky I found one who doesn’t care.”
The Captain locked his fingers with his wife’s, gently herding her to the bed. He laid her down gently and got her into a good position, shoving a few of the lousy pillows under her waist to offer a better angle.
“How are you?” He asked softly, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand.
“Ready as I can be,” she said with a soft giggle, as he bent down to plant a kiss on her lips.
“Sergeant, come here.” The Captain commanded, pointing at the foot of the bed, his wife couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her as she dropped her hand over her face. The Captain moved his wife’s knees apart with his free hand, the other still lovingly holding her’s. Johnny got on his own knees as John commanded him as he spread his wife’s pussy lips apart with his fingers. “Ya see that?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, sir,” John corrected Johnny. He basically gave his younger self a tour of his wife’s softest pieces. Telling Johnny her favorite things that he does and what she reacts best to.
Johnny was so enthralled with her body he could move his eyes anywhere else. Especially when John put his fingers inside and curled them suddenly making her gasp so Johnny knew how far in her g spot was. The way her body jolted and softly raised as the gasp left her lips was his new favorite thing. He was so jealous he didn’t have her yet. That she wasn’t his wife yet, that he didn’t have the liberty to mark her body yet.
“Get to work,” the Captain said, patting Johnny. He didn’t need to say it twice because Johnny went right in.
The wife brought her free hand down to her mouth to hold in the gasps and moans as Johnny ate so eagerly. John was usually slow and sensual, to the messy and a vehement eating that was happening at her core was a much different sensation. John gently pulled her hand away.
“Checkin in with ya, are ya doing good?” he asked his lovely wife. Her eyes couldn’t focus, her mouth gaping and shutting.
She gave a nod and a hum as her body started to clench as Johnny inserted fingers between her legs and curled, making her body lurch towards the sky and gasp. The Captain gently placed kisses on her face, her velvety cries just make Johnny want to do it again.
“She’s even prettier from this view,” Johnny mumbled, spreading her apart with his fingers.
“She donnae like condoms but imma make ye wear one anyway,” Captain Mactavish told his younger self before placing a kiss to the forehead of his flushed wife, still coming down from her orgasm as her husband ran his fingers through her hair as her breathing slowed with her closed eyes. John threw the condom at Johnny, who quickly rolled it on before standing up. “Donnae force it in, go in slow.”
Johnny positioned himself, putting one of the lovely wife’s ankles to his shoulder before giving it a soft kiss. He didn’t dare pull her down the bed like he would have normally done, he walked on his knees to meet her. Hands sliding down her legs to lift her ass, one he saw as so perfect.
He slowly slid it in as John kissed his wife’s face, holding her hand. She was more than used to John’s dick by now, but she was far from used to Johnny’s pacing. So much energy and stamina, not to say John didn’t have it but John was definitely more about making love than he was about fucking or just having sex.
Once she started to grind her hips, Johnny’s face lit up and he immediately started a toe curly, back arching pace. His tip bullied her g spot, making her mouth fall open but no sound falling from her lips.
John cooed at her as Johnny bullied her soft parts, not caring about his own pleasure, solely the pleasure of this goddess in front of him. Once he was sure he had found the spot, Johnny folded her a bit more to hit it a bit deeper, making sure everything was dragging against her.
The only thing that left her were whines, she felt her melted brain might just spill out her ears as the white, staticy heat built up.
A nice ring built up around Johnny’s cock as he began to roll his hips. Her pulsating cunt milked him so much he felt an almost numbness in his fingers as all he could do was hold her and roll his hips as she let out a broken moan and came. Her husband’s voice echoing around her head with praises and loving words.
It was down right impossible for Soap to not come from her body's pulsations so he did. He wished it hadn’t been into a condom but he was grateful he just got the chance.
John gave him a look and Johnny took it knowingly, going to get a warm and damp towel. He handed it to John who began to clean his wife up, nodding to Johnny to let him know he could leave.
Johnny didn’t know it was so John could reclaim his wife with some slow sensual sex and lots of love bites.
John, unlike Johnny, was going to come inside.
Johnny looked at the photo he had taken of himself with the wife of Captain John from the night prior, "I'm going to marry you. Yer the one I've been looking for."
#cod x reader#call of duty#john soap mctavish x reader#john soap mactavish#captain mactavish#soapitup
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This is a little preview of my new series and yes, bunnies, this is a whole series from me. I hope everyone is ready for an erotic dystopia?
Decadent dystopian erotica with majestic dragons - second teaser for today
Glass House Ateez x reader
Everything changed in an instant.
The king was dead, and thousands of dragons took to the burning skies. The old world was over, and a 'new age' was in the making—an age of gods and monsters.
A thousand years ago, the fires of revolution blazed across the face of the world. Dragons—the creatures of ancient legends and children's fairy tales—reduced the once prosperous world to ashes in a matter of minutes. Rivers of black blood coursed through the veins of the streets, flooding the cities and lands in their wake. The sky was a blaze of purple flames and electric shocks. The church was reduced to rubble, and the royal family was executed in a public display. In the eyes of the dead, the unspoken horror in front of these majestic creatures remained forever, and in the sparks of the flames, they shimmered like precious sea stones.
There was a bitter smell of burning flesh and ash in the air. It was the smell of dreams on fire—the smell of a future in decay.
It was the beginning of the end of ancient life. The beginning of a new world. The Age of Immortality has begun.
All the legends turned out to be true; dragons did exist. They had always lived close to us, lurking in the velvety darkness of the night, waiting for the hour. Waiting for the hour to come when the power would be in their hands. Dangerous, unbridled, wild creatures of magic and the elements, predators at the top of the food chain. They had come into the world to rule, not to obey, and now, at long last, their time had come.
The world was at anarchy. Dragons were killing, raping, and enslaving races and lands as if it were an amusing child's game. They drank blood as black as the night from golden bowls, and they ate our succulent flesh as our bones cracked under the pressure of their razor-sharp teeth. They would hold orgies in the midst of the torn corpses and revel in their omnipotence. Those were the days of darkness. A time of terror, when the very word danger was a synonym for life itself. And so it went for several years, until the ultimate power fell into the clutches of the deadly Children of the Night, the oldest of all dragons.
The majestic Hala.
Eternal as the moon itself and deadly as the uncharted depths of the ocean, they inspired burning terror in all who encountered them. To their people, they were nothing more than a myth, a legend written on fragments of tablets. Forefathers, ancestors—they had hundreds of names, but each one inspired more fear than the last. They were predators among predators, bristling with animal dominance and primal, unbridled sexuality. They exuded power and sinfulness. They were the ones who defined the rules and set the boundaries of what was permissible.
With the arrival of Hala, a new phase in the history of the world began.
Humanity was enslaved, and dragons became the dominant species. As the years went by, the human population began to decline rapidly, with fewer and fewer humans, until "our" species reached the status of gatherers. Angelicus Nova, or Angel Stars, was what we came to be called. Human existence took on a strange religious orientation; we were worshipped, idolized, and adored, but despite all this, humans remained nothing more than a rare exchangeable currency, nothing more than an expensive trinket that was prestigious to own and could be broken with a flick of the wrist.
The human being also became one of the ways in which money flowed endlessly. These institutions were known as "glass houses." Gateway to heaven. They would be the equivalent of strip clubs or luxury escort houses if you and I were in the old world. The rules were the same: "Look, but don't touch." Girls and boys were expensive pieces of family jewelry that rested under the glass of fancy display cases. Our masters showed us off to the greedy eyes of the world with all the pride and ostentation that dragons have.
In spite of their possessive, animalistic nature, dragons were nothing more than swaggering bastards with inflated egos and delusions of grandeur.
Humans could be anything as long as dragons owned us—a muse, an innamorata, a nymph, an angel, a siren, or even a goddess—but like everything else in the universe, we came at a price.
The 'glass houses' were only in operation at night. During the day, all the 'jewels' rested and tidied up after tiring hours of contemplation of the world through the bluish glass of the display window. Nice, obliging workers in starched white collars were busy with the cleaning, scrubbing the baroque decorations of the vetrines with great care from a mixture of sperm, drool, and other secretions. You looked at it with an almost reverent awe, finding it disgusting to the point of bordering on the pornographically beautiful.
You could see it as real art—crude and original, but art nonetheless. There was something particularly mesmerizing about it, almost hypnotic, about the way the thick, pearly sperm dripped slowly from the golden flowers.
Of all the glass houses that ever existed, "Eros" was the most beautiful. It was the jewel in the crown of the New Empire, and you were its goddess. There were rumors that the Hala themselves were customers of 'Eros'. But rumors were only rumors. If they were ever to visit your 'home', you would know about it, for they would be where all men ended up—at your feet.
You were content with the life that you were living. There was no tragedy and no misery, no abusive family or abusive peers, no bullying and harassment at school—no, you had it all great. You were born here at Eros—the growth and blossoming of a beautiful flower. Your whole life has been within the confines of glass rooms and silk sheets, but unlike your dreamy friends, you weren't in need of rescue.
Your name is Aphrodite. Born in the radiance of the Creator. A goddess among goddesses, carved out of marble and mother of pearl. Your hair falls to the ground in waterfalls of pearls and silk. Your eyes are the eerie silvery moonlight in half-darkness, the deadly attraction of jewels in velvet lashes. Your lips are the succulent, juicy, forbidden fruit that every man would like to taste. The pain of your kiss is going to be the last pleasure of life.
You are not a delicate, pure lily; you are not a passionate, fiery rose; you are a narcissus reveling in the crystal of mountain waters. You love yourself to pain, to death, to despair, and in all the New Empire, there was none more beautiful than you.
Original sin. The primordial beauty. You are desire in all it manifests and begins to manifest.
The naked goddess, clad in snow-white fur like armor, is the goddess of love and ecstasy.
You've never been conceptualized; you've always been enigmatic.
You have been the object of worship. Your beauty has been sung in songs, and your love has been professed in a thousand languages. "Eros" was the site of visits from the mightiest and most powerful dragons of the New Empire. They all crawled at your feet, stroking their thick, greased with their cum cocks, greedily as they burned your skin with their golden gaze. They licked the deceptively thin glass of your display case with their long, sometimes split tongues, leaving muddy streaks on the perfect surface of the glass. The mighty and great dragons, unaccustomed to humiliation and submission, urinated like bitches in heat at the mere sight of your bare shoulders and long neck covered with diamond serpents, their eyes shining like stars in the twilight of your silken chambers. They would drip their sperm onto the icy marble floor until it collected in small, glistening puddles, and then they would lick it up as if it were the sweetest nectar in the world. Ambrosia in the truest sense.
Behind the glass walls of Eros, they were dominators, predators, and the rulers of this world through fear and pain, but here in this garden of Eros, they were nothing more than whores—shameless and needy. Slaves to your beauty, desperate to please you.
Their moans are always a delight to you. The moaning of your name.
The scenarios have been repeated to the point of being painful. Sugar-sweet subs with outstretched tongues and pretty, tear-stained faces. Dominant alphas with sweat-glistening skin and eyes rolling with pleasure.
Dragons fucked other dragons; orgies and bacchanals were staged; they were subjugated and subdued. They growled, moaned, squealed, and purred; some were fucked like a port slut, and some were licked for hours until they passed out from hyperstimulation. Some masturbated in front of your window, enjoying the fact that you were there to watch them, and there were others who would spend their heat and ruts in front of your window.
The list could go on and on: bondage, darkphilia, breeding, voyeurism, humiliation, objectification, and breathing games.
You were saturated with this game.
There were so many ways in which you could spend your evenings in the company of others. It was all designed to excite you, to make you beg, and to make you plead. Each of your visitors secretly hoped that one day you would strip off your luxurious furs and assume the position that was right for them—submissive, naked, and ready to accept whatever it was they were giving you.
It was an act of power; it was a position of strength, but here you were the strength. You were power.
No one would ever have the temerity to lay a hand on you. Goddesses are always untouchable.
You entertained yourselves by teasing them, mocking them, and fanning their flames of desire and passion. Dragons are creatures that are very dependent on their emotions and their desires; they feed on their power and their magic, but when they do not get what they want, it burns them from the inside; it breaks and crumbles them, like a cookie that has been bitten.
It was delicious, but you were full. Thank you, next.
You never denied that you were a sadist; you had a taste for pain; maybe it was a kind of revenge for the destruction of your family; maybe not. They came to you for that feeling; the dragons wanted to be punished and tamed, and the feeling of pain made them cum harder. As they say, Orgasm is a little death.
You could play this game for hours on end, letting the fur expose your boobs and pressing it against the cold glass as you went. It was magnificent—tall and plump, as if it had been milked with milk—with pink nipples the color of magnolia blossoms. There was something animalistically seductive about it—an appeal to their natural reproductive instincts—that evil thought of possible pregnancy. Their whimpering made you laugh, and the sounds they made were so sweet—desperate pleas and long, long moans.
"Let me taste you; I want it so much. I was a good boy, such a good boy."
There were other days when you would let your hands run over the bare skin of your thighs, leaving long red streaks that stood in erotic contrast to the silk of your pale skin. You smeared the clear, shimmering liquid of your juices along the line of your neck, in that most exciting place for dragons, where their teeth locked in a mating mark, as if branding their mate in the most perverse of affiliations.
"Tell me I belong to you; please say it. I'll do anything you don't want. Own me, use me; I want to be your toy.".
Sometimes other girls would be brought into your shop window to put on an erotic show. Exquisite nymphs and rosy-cheeked Lolitas would explore your tender skin with their soft, wet tongues, leaving traces of hungry kisses, until at last their lips would close on the most intimate spot between your thighs.
On days like this, the whole of 'Eros' would shake with furious, jealous growls and thunderclaps. Dragons were terrible possessive, and even though the "scene" itself would excite the hell out of them, the jealousy would burn through their veins from the inside out, like a deadly poison.
"You belong to me, and only to me. You are mine, mine and mine alone. I will tear this girl apart, and we will fuck in her blood until there are no more conscious thoughts left in your pretty little head, until you remember nothing but my name.".
But no matter what their words were to you, you didn't have a care in the world. Nobody would dare touch the goddess, and if they tried, they would not only lose their hands but also get killed.
That was the law of the New Empire—all the people who were left were protected and sheltered in an incredible way. There were very few of you, and if there had been any harm to even one of you, it would have been a real tragedy.
Only once has there been a breach of that law, and the consequences have been terrible. No one wants a repeat.
In any case, your life in the Garden of Eros was a pleasure. Maybe it was some kind of perverse way of looking at the world and love, but you didn't have any desire to change anything; everything was great.
Have you ever wondered if there might be another version of you out there? Perhaps, somewhere in a parallel universe, humans would still exist as the dominant species, their countries and cities would be prosperous, and you would be living a different life—a normal one. There, in that other universe, that other Aphrodite—no, not Aphrodite—you would have an ordinary name, not a divine one, something cute, something sweet, and always with a hint of shyness. It is probably there that you would have experienced your first love, that you would dream of a prince who would take you off into the sunset, and that "and they lived happily ever after." You would have been embarrassed to talk about sex, and you would have blushed horribly if his fingers had been in your knickers. But you weren't her. And she wasn't you. You don't want to be saved from sinning; you want to become one of them. You want to experience forbidden pleasures. You want to subjugate and dominate.
You're not in need of a prince; you've already had a king, or rather, eight kings. The day will come when everything you have ever dreamed of will come true, even if you haven't met any of the Hala yet.
You want power; you want to sit on a golden throne in a castle high up in the sky, and so it shall be. They say that love is a great strength, but they fail to mention that it is also the greatest weakness. And you, like no one else, know how to use it to your advantage.
This is not a pink fairy tale. There are no rainbow ponies pooping rainbows and eating fairy dust. No, this is a rotten world. It is full of debauchery, violence, and sex. You could say, "Come and rescue me. I'm waiting for you," but no, you have to rephrase it as "I'm waiting for you to crawl on your knees and lick my heels, and from that moment on, I will own you.".
Yes, that sounds much better.
It's already eight o'clock; time to get ready; you're leaving soon.
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the most famous glass house in the New Empire. Tonight we have wet aesthetic cunnilingus as our main course, and for dessert, a mind-blowing orgasm. You have a choice of starters. Drinks are on the house. We accept cash and checks. If you wish, you can leave a tip for one of our "jewels.".
Our hope is that your time at Eros will be an unforgettable experience.
#ateez smut#kpop smut#ateez x reader#ateez imagines#ateez fanfic#atz smut#smut#seonghwa smut#hongjoong smut#san smut#yunho smut#mingi smut#jongho smut#wooyoung smut#yeosang smut#seonghwa x reader#hongjoong x reader#mingi x reader#san x reader#wooyoung x reader#yunho x reader#jongho x reader#yeosang x reader#ateez unholy hours#park seonghwa smut#ateez fanfiction#ateez scenarios#ateez hard thoughts#ateez hard hours
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My high lady
Type:One shot
Pairing: Eris x reader
Summary: Eris makes mistakes, causing a fight between his mate and himself- how will he win her over and bring her back home?
Warnings- Oral (f receiving) smut p in v, fighting
MDNI
“You know what! Fuck you Eris! I’m going to stay with my brother. Sort yourself out!”
I stomp through the room and out to the balcony, calling out to Rhysand that I would be coming.
‘Rhys’
‘Yn! What is it?’
‘I’m coming to stay in the night court for a bit-is that ok?’
‘Yes, of course yes- we all miss you, your brother will be ecstatic!’
‘Well then I’m on my way now-I’ll be there soon’
‘Can’t wait to see you’
Eris hadn’t moved from where he stood as my wings flared out- I look back one last time, “contact me once you’ve figured yourself out. But not before then.”
“Goodbye Eris.”
And with that I shut down my side of the bond and take off into the early morning skies. Out of the corner of my eye I swear i see my mate move but he doesn’t come after me or call for me past a singular step.
———
“Hey little sister!” Cassian pulls me into a bone crushing hug, spinning me around and burying his head in my neck.
I laugh as he sets me down, “Hey big bro.” Looking past my brother I see his mate and we moved to hug- Nesta had never been a hugger but we had become close, sisters in a sense. I mean we were technically sisters in law. “Hey sis.”
“Hey girl. Oh remind me, I have a few new books for you.”
I smile as we make our way to the dining room and get greetings and hugs out of the way. Sitting down to eat.
“So what did Eris do?”
I choke a bit at Mor’s question, “He decided to be a prick.” My family’s eyebrows raised, looking for more information, “He just keeps undermining me and acting as if he didn’t declare me high lady of autumn, like my opinion and rule mean nothing to him.”
“He did what?” My brother looked angry, more angry than even I was
“Cass it’s- it’s fine. I blew up and he knows not to come after me till he sorted his own shit out.”
My brother simply glares at his potatoes, sliding his fork around in his plate as Mor tries to strike up other conversation.
———
It had been two weeks TWO WEEKS since our fight and nothing- I mean I excoriated for him to do something, even send something down the bond but nothing. I was beginning to think he simply didn’t care. Didn’t want me back. Cassi and anger only grew with mine as time went on.
———
“Fuck!” Eris’ fist slamms the table, breaking it nearly in half. “What have I done?”
Eris’ mind reeled, he didn’t know what was wrong with him but looking back and seeing all he had done to his mate, his wife, the ruler of his court- it killed him. He had to fix this. Fast. But he just didn’t know what to do.
So after two weeks of letting her have some time away from him, sure she didn’t want him, he went out to her favorite shops, buying her flowers and sweet treats, some more yarn for her crochet project, that painting she’d seen and desperately wanted, a new blanket and that dress she eyed in the store window, he bought her more books she had mentioned and her favorite tea and coffee. Quickly winnowing home and setting things together in a massive basket display on the bed, he strode over to his desk, writing a long, long note- apologizing and expressing his love and all the ways he’d fix it and more. Finally, he closed it, signed it, and set it in the middle of the bed. Sure this may have been seen as overboard but not to him, never to him, his mate was worth anything and everything, he’d burn the world down for her any time of any day.
Quickly, he fixed his hair, shaving the stubble that had grown over the past 14 days, he changed, spraying on your favorite cologne and sent a message through the bond.
‘I’m on my way. I have so many things to say to you- and I plan to beg at your feet for your forgiveness.’ And with that- he was off, winnowing to the night court.
———
‘I’m on my way. I have so many things to say to you-and I plan to beg at your feet for your forgiveness.’
I jolt at the sudden, first sign of anything from Eris’ side of the bond, his words were filled with emotion as it came through to me and I know. I knew he spoke only the truth. I quickly make my way up to my room, freshening up and looking in the mirror, “you’ve got this.” I whisper it so low I almost don’t hear it.
As I walk back to my room I’m spooked yet again by my mate standing in the middle of he room, intense eyes meeting mine. “Hello again love.”
“Hello.”
“I- I don’t even know where to start with this. I’m more sorry than words exist to describe the feeling, it’s- darling I look back and realize all of done and apologies don’t even begin to cover my remorse, the utter disgust I feel when I think of what I’ve done, when I look in the mirror knowing I’ve hurt you my love. I hope you know that you- you are my world, my life and after you are my everything. I cannot begin to explain what I’ve done because there, there is no excuse for the utter miss treatment and horrid behavior.” He moves closer, I just barely stop the gasp threatening to leave me as he drops to his knees and stares up at me. “I will never undermine you again- your ideas, your opinions they are the only thing that matters, the only ones in this world I care to listen too. You are the high lady of autumn and I will start treating you as such. As the amazing, powerful woman you are.” He scorched closer, his hands going to my thighs. “Yn I am- I will worship you, I will kiss your feet and the land you walk on if I must to prove to you how regretful I am, to show you how much you truly mean to me.” His lips meet my thighs softly as he maintains eye contact.
“Eris. I love you.” I pull him up by his hands, keeping them in my grasp. “I understand the stress we’ve all been under and while your behavior was not ok but I forgive you. I love you and we will move past this as long as you keep your word and I know you will my love.”
A dopey smile appears on his face as he grabs mine, silently asking for permission, which I grant and he swiftly leans down, meeting my lips in his, a tender kiss being pulled from the both of us. “I love you.” He whispers into my mouth. As we pull away, my mate speaks again, “I have a surprise at home, may I bring you to it, back home.”
“Yes my love.”
———
After saying goodbye to everyone, Eris being threatened by each of them, we winnow back to autumn, back home. As we appear in our bed chambers, I’m unable to hold in this gasp as I see the bed. “Eris you-you didn’t have to do this.”
“Yes I did. Now go look at your gifts love.” After looking through everything, nearly crying as I stroke the silk that’s just as soft as I imaged as I stared at it in the hop window. I look back to Eris, the small smile on his face making me light up as I bound over to him and pull him into another kiss.
My hands find his hair, twisting into it, giving it a small tug as his hands find my waist and a small growl leashes his lips. I’m pushed up against the door, his lips leaving mine to find my jawline, then my neck, then as my dress gets in the way, he rips it- another gasp leaves me as he does so, his lips trailing down my body, sucking marks as he works his way down. “I told you I would be on my knees before you- I’m keeping that.” He lowers to his knees, lips never breaking contact from my skin longer than needed to move to a new spot. His hands grapple at the back of my thighs as his tongue strokes me through my already soaked panties. He yet again- tears them with a growl before his lips land on my sensitive bud.
Eris nips the sensitive skin, sucking my bud into his mouth, in between his teeth before soothing the area with his tongue. His moth continues working my clit, small gasps and moans leaving me as my hands tug on his hair, hips rocking forward. I notice him rocking his hips, desperately trying to humo the floor the best he could causing a giggle to fall from my lips.
A small shriek leaves me as his tongue dives between my folds, my pussy clenching as he tastes all of me. Not long after I cum, my juices spraying his tongue and face. He stands and licks his lips, whipping his check with a finger before bringing it to my mouth, shoving it in between my lips. I suck his fingers, my tongue swirling it, looking at my mate through my lashes as I do so. I release his finger with a pop as he pushes me to our sofa- our bed currently occupied.
Eris’ clothes are shucked off quickly as he continues to suck on my neck, his hand working his dick for a moment before gliding it along my pussy lips. “Just put it in.” I growl, he smirks as he pushes in, to the hilt with one deep thrust. I nearly scream as he groans, beginning to move in and out at a fast but deep pace, utterly devastating. Sweat beads on his shoulder, dripping down his chest slowly. I push myself to my hands, licking up the small bit of moisture as he continues bullying in to me. Muttering praise and love into my ear in between groans.
“Eris I-I-“
“I know love.” He rocks me back and forth slightly, “cum for me. Cum for me my mate.” I cum with a shout, my pussy clenching around his cock in a death grip as white flashes in my vision and my body convulses, shortly after this his own release hits, thick streams of white cum coating my gummy walls.
Eris slowly pulls out with a hiss, turning to our bathroom before returning with a wet rag, carefully cleaning me up, placing tender kisses to my skin as he goes. “I love you.” He brushes my hair behind my ear before magicing the items on our bed away and laying me down, my eyes blinking groggily, a small smile spreading across our faces.
My mate lays beside me, “I love you too.” I curl into his warm chest, my eyes sliding shut as I fall into a peaceful sleep, his hands rubbing small circles across my back. “Sleep good my mate.”
———
Ok ok here it is- I’m so so sorry for how long it took but I hope it’s good!
#acotar x reader#azriel x reader#azriel#acotar#elain archeron#elain x reader#feyre archeron#feyre x reader#nesta x reader#nesta archeron#cassian x reader#cassian#rhysand x reader#rhysand#eris vanserra#eris x reader#lucien vanserra#lucien x reader
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Do you have any headcanons for after an escape attempt with each monkey demon ( Mk , Monkey king and macaque) What would be their reaction at first? What would they do when they find you? How stricter would they get? What would they start doing differently after the attempt?
MK, as usual, has very different responses depending on the season he’s in.
Season 1 MK probably doesn’t even consider the possibility that Y/N could “escape”. This is when the relationship between the two of you is at it’s healthiest, before this poor boy goes through hell and back.
You aren’t locked up, he doesn’t have you hidden away, there’s nowhere that you’re explicitly forbidden to go- there’s nothing to escape from. His assumption isn’t “Y/N is running away from me!” or “I can’t let them escape!” but instead, “It’s been a while since I’ve seen Y/N… so I’ll drop everything to go visit them right now!”
Sometimes he abandons all prior goals to run off and see you. Sometimes he rushes through a fight and ends it a little more… fiercely than his opponents would have liked.
Once the trauma starts rolling in and Y/N becomes his coping mechanism as much as they are his friend, MK starts to personally define exactly what counts as “escape”.
You aren’t allowed to leave his side without telling where you’ll be going and when you’ll be back. If you’re a competent enough fighter to take on a Bull Clone or two, he won’t push this ‘rule’ as hard. And if you can’t do that?
Then MK makes a serious push for you to train with him. He’ll beg and pester Wukong to teach you at least some of the 72 Transformations as a form of defending yourself or getting out of nasty scrapes without his help. Eventually, his mentor concedes (after some serious bribery on MK’s part) and allows you to take part in the sessions.
But until you can reasonably take care of yourself against two or three opponents at once, MK is by your side every minute he gets the chance. Running off or giving him the slip means little once he’s mastered his Gold Vision, which he does very quickly. Or he can extend his pole to the skies to get a much better view of the surrounding area to see exactly where you ran off to.
Give him the slip too many times, and MK will tie your wrist to his with his headband, ensuring that you don’t get “lost” as he drags you along after him.
“C’mon, Y/N! I already got permission from Pigsy for you to stay the night!”
“That’s sweet of you both, really… but last time I stayed the night, it turned into a week.”
“I know! That was the best, wasn’t it?! Maybe this time, we can stretch it out to a month!”
Sun Wukong will let it slide once. Just once, he’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, choosing to believe that you wouldn’t go running off with a very good reason. After that, his restrictions mount and your freedoms decline one by one. Each consecutive escape brings you one step close to being locked inside Shuilian Cave, where he decides that you are safest.
But that’s for a later day, once you’ve run his trust dry.
For now, he believes in you.
So he’ll let you leave, giving you a single day to tend to whatever business that you needed to attend to so urgently that you left.
All alone. In the middle of the night. With a single packed bag.
Wukong will let this one first escape slide, because lord only knows that he’s pulled so many horseshit antics that his kid/friend/student/whatever Y/N is running off once isn’t that big of a deal. And really…
He wants to believe in you here. He wants to think that this is something you’re doing for a very good reason, instead of just being a desperate attempt to get away from him.
When the single day he allots you is over and done, you can start counting out your precious, meager minutes of freedom one by one.
In less than an hour, his flying cloud blazes through the sky and blisters the earth like a comet, leaving a crater of destruction and cinders where it lands.
And aboard the vaporous mount is none other the Great Sage himself, arms folded and grin forced.
“Hey there, bud. You been out here having fun, huh?”
No vigor or vim to line his words. No electric cheer to fuel his fluid movements. No warmth in his tone.
It’s almost hard to call him Sun Wukong.
But it is him here, and he’s here for you. He offers you a hand, stiff and tense. The way the acts makes it clear there’s no choice but to take it, not when the air grows thick and the tension is stormy.
“C’mon, bud. Time to head home.”
Pre-Season 4 Macaque is the only one on this list that’s immoral enough to outright kidnap someone, in my opinion. MK might guilt you into staying with him, and while Sun Wukong would technically commit kidnapping, it’s by virtue of not letting you leave instead of forcibly taking you away. It’d be more along the lines of false imprisonment.
But Macaque?
If all his careful maneuvers and schemes prove inefficient in keeping you close, he’ll switch to brute force in the blink of an eye.
Macaque; at the start, gently manipulates you. His shackles are first gossamer, innocuous and kind. He builds you up and tears you down in increments, never swaying too far to either side. You never feel confident enough to leave, never feel hurt enough to lash out.
He doesn’t chase after you. He makes you feel unstable and dependent, then molds you into seeing him as a shelter that you aren’t strong enough to leave.
It’s a brutal process for Y/N, especially if they’re his student, because he intentionally picks a lonely and insecure person for the sake of rivaling MK.
And if you do somehow break free from the psychological and emotional strings he uses to puppeteer you about, Macaque simply switches to physically stringing you up with his shadows and forcing you to act out your deepest insecurities as he narrates them to an audience of shadow clones.
“Poor little Y/N… forever on their own, watching from the shadows while all the rest of the world laughs and loves with one another.”
The shadows around your body maneuver and mold you, forcing you to wave your hands and walk, dragging your lips into frowns and smiles. Every little shame and self-doubt you possess is bared to the light, bared to his shadows, and you can’t help but be strung along as a passive watcher in your very own story.
You break into tears halfway through, devolving into hysteric sobbing by the end.
And Macaque; no longer a shelter but instead a jail, offers you comfort to reel you back into his grasp. He’ll take you into his arms as you weep, promising to make you stronger, strong enough to forget the past and all that he’s forcing you to leave behind.
Now that you’re rendered to your most reduced state, he can start to work his magic.
“Trust me, kiddo… everything I’m doing, I’m doing for your own good. You get me?”
#Platonic Yandere#Yandere Lego Monkie Kid#Lego Monkie Kid#Yandere LMK#Yandere MK#MK#Yandere Sun Wukong#Sun Wukong#Yandere Macaque#Macaque#Monkiefam#Is Wukong’s part too pretentious in wording please tell me I crave feedback for the silly things I write
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“Let me warm you up.” — Childe x afab!reader
synopsis: when childe takes you to his homeland, snezhnaya, you didn't expect it to be extremely cold, but luckily for you, he has his ways of warming you up.
; if you feel yourself wanting to community label this, please kindly just block me instead, it's annoying how people ignore the warnings right in front of them.
NSFW CONTENT! MDNI; afab!reader, p in v sex, porn with little plot, unprotected sex, breeding kink, clit stimulation, clitoral orgasm, cumming inside, missionary. + not proofread
By clicking read more, you are consenting to view this explicit content, you are responsible for your own experience
You shiver as you clutch the long and thick coat wrapped around you, which was given to you by childe himself when you arrived a while back in snezhnaya. You had not expected it to be this cold, it was worse than dragonstone and that says a lot.
People here are accustomed to wearing long and thick coats and going about their day, they say the nation represents the archon they are ruled by and your first impression of tsaritsa was that she is probably cold hearted and sharp minded, the bite from the environment tells you at least.
You know that childe works for her, in fact, the fatui were founded by her and there are other members, neither a friend or foe, and childe told you that he would introduce you to them when he gets a chance, he was currently gone too, probably in a meeting.
You had just finished putting his younger siblings to sleep, the eldest one helping you, Tonia was such a sweetheart, she was very nice and gentle, it seems she is used to this lifestyle since her elder siblings leave often, you have yet to meet childe's older siblings, they are absent quite often, and for days too, you felt bad for Tonia, having to take up such responsibility.
You were in childe's room, sitting by the fire as you clutched on tightly to the coat around you, in a way to warm you up, you sighed contently when your body temperature started adjusting and you finally felt warm.
You heard the door open behind you and you looked to see who it was, Childe was back and he gave you a small smile before sat down next to you and leaned his head on your shoulder, “How was the meeting?” you break the silence.
“Mhm well, we are discussing who should take up the 6th harbingers place since it has been empty for many years.” he said and you nodded, you didn't know what to tell him, you remember who the sixth harbinger was, scaramouche, specifically, childe was the one who told you that, yet it seems somehow everyone forgot about him and you didn't have a heart to remind them cause you had a sense of doom that if you were to remind them, bad things will fall upon teyvat.
You have heard about what forbidden knowledge had done in sumeru, you also remember their old God who everyone seemed to forget, so you stayed quiet, often times you wonder why you remember, wondered if you were crazy, wondered if it was only you who had memories of it but quickly you shake those thoughts away, deeming them useless to ponder about, and live in ignorance and pretense.
You shiver due to the cold once again, the cool air which entered the room when childe opened the door has lingered and finally felt it's chill, childe removed his head from your shoulder and looked at you, head tilting.
“Are you cold?” he asks and you nod, “Yeah, it seems that the weather here is quite difficult for me to get used to, I would much rather prefer the weather of mondstat or liyue, where the air is warm and crisp.” you tell him and he blinks at you.
“Quite the opposite for me, although it is nice to be in warmth and sunlight, I find myself preferring cold and cloudy skies, gives me a sense of familiarity.” he smiles and you smile back until you shiver again, you looked at the fire place and it seems that the fire is dying down, so you reach for the spare wood next to it only to find none and you groan.
“ugh, we ran out of wood, how am I supposed to survive this weather and night now? I am going to die without the warmth.” you sigh and childe looks at you in thought before a small devious smirk makes its way up his features.
“I can warm you up.” he says, tone changing as he leans forward, “How—” you cut yourself off when you realise how close he is, his breath hitting your face. Before you can process, his lips engulf yours and he lets out a satisfied groan.
“fuck, I missed these lips.” he pulls back and says before readjusting and kissing you once again, his hand cups your face as you kiss them back, coat falling to the ground, he pulls back and gets up, and you follow him to the bed.
He wastes no time in pushing you unto the bed before he slams his lips against you once again, this time the kiss was desperate as if he was controlling himself from losing control, you wrap your hands around his shoulders and pull him closer, he supports himself on one of his arm on your side while his knees rests in between your thigh, he pulls away and looks at your face.
Your eyes were dazed and you feel warm and fuzzy from the inside, he can tell you want it as badly as he does, so he quickly pulls off his clothing along with yours, the fireplace running out, your nipples harden as the now chill air bites your skin, arising goosebumps on your skin.
You feel cold but not for long when he presses his warm body against yours as he kisses your neck, leaving bite marks and he travels those wet kisses down your neck to your breasts before biting the flesh making you gasp.
His plays with your nipples with his hand, pinching them and pulling on them as you let out breathless moans, his hand leaves your nipples and travels to your exposed cunt where he finds your heat already wet. He groans against your neck when he feels your slick coating his fingers.
He brings the slick up your to clit and rubs small and slow circles making you grind against his hand, desperate to scratch that itch thats forming in your stomach as his hand gradually increases its pace.
It's only a few moments until he pulls on your clit, and your orgasm hits you, causing you to clench around nothing and throw your head back, moaning, he shuffles to place himself between your legs and grabs his now hard cock and gives it a few pumps.
You look at him and his cock, eyes darting back and forth, you gasp when you feel him line up against your aching hole, he gently pushes himself in, biting his lip when he feels how your cunt engulfs him as if it's made for him and him only, this ignites something in him.
“Holy archons— look at the way you take me so well.” he praises, causing heat to crawl up your face, he finally pushes himself inside completely and you let out a whimper, he places his hands on the sides of your shoulder and leans in to kiss you before he starts moving his lips, in and out of you.
You wrap your arms and legs around him for leverage as he ruts into you, pace increasing with time, you felt so full, no matter how many times you guys had sex you always found him too big, and he found you tight as well.
You moan loudly when childe hits the rough patch that was located inside you, which makes childe slap a hand over your mouth and hush you, “shh, not too loud, love. You don't want to wake the kids up, do you?” he asks and you nod, biting your lip to suppress your noises as he pounds mercilessly into you.
His stared at you with so much hunger, as if he had been starved for so many days, the way your eyebrows furrow, the way your eyes never leave his, looking at him half closed, it sends him over the edge.
He had noticed how you took care of his siblings, doting on them and being kind and gentle, oh how perfect of a mother you would make, he had always been a big family guy, wanting to have as many children as possible.
He wouldn't admit it to himself but he definitely had a breeding kink, disguised under the mask of a creampie kink, yet the cracks started to form once he found you laying with his siblings on the sofa, or when you would play with his brothers, running around and lifting them into your arms.
He wondered if you'd do that with your children as well, he groaned at the thought, the thought of you carrying his baby, your belly swelling round with his seed, “F-fuck i want to fill you up.” he groans out loud making you gasp.
“I want to knock you up, with my babies, you would make a good mother, I know it.” he babbles on and his pace begins to falter, indicating that he was near, you blush at his words and close your eyes when you feel a familiar coil begin to form in your stomach.
You and childe both cum at the same time, causing you to clench around him as he let's out a grunt when he feels you milking him, it almost feeling like you were squeezing out his seed to which he became even more aroused at.
You both ride out your highs before childe pulls out and flops down onto your side, pulling you into his arms and kissing your forehead, before pulling the sheets over your naked bodies, you close your eyes and basked in his warmth.
You wondered how he managed to keep you more warm than the fireplace, that too naked, his body heat engulfed yours and you feel warm and fuzzy, sleep coming to both of you as you guys were tired due to the events of the day.
You both fell asleep that way.
#genshin impact#genshin impact smut#genshin smut#genshin#smut#childe smut#childe x reader smut#x reader#x reader smut#fanfic#tartaglia#tartaglia smut#childe x reader#tartaglia x reader#childe x you
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THE ULTIMATE GUIDE: TO THE ULTIMATE FRIENDSHIP. ― rule number one.
pairing: park jongseong x fembodied!reader
summary: sunghoon had been strict to follow the rules written on the list the two of you had written years ago, especially rule number three. but when jay suddenly makes an appearance in your life, he realizes that maybe, just maybe, he broke rule number three a long time ago.
word count: 11,8k
warnings: angst, jealousy, just sunghoon being a bad best friend in general, SMUT ! MDNI . proofread but there may be some mistakes, please don’t be afraid to point them out !
masterlist ! next
A GUIDE TO THE ULTIMATE FRIENDSHIP.
Sunghoon saw the list of rules you two had written together every time he opened the top drawer of his nightstand table. The once white, lined paper almost had a yellow tint to it now and your handwriting had smudged to the point where it was practically impossible for Sunghoon to read the already poorly spelled sentences.
Not that he needed to read it, no, he had already memorized what the paper said years ago; long before the words faded and the paper crumbled.
It was the summer break between 4th and 5th grade when you and Sunghoon sat down underneath the big tree in his backyard while drinking some lemonade Sunghoon’s mother had made earlier that summer morning, writing a list of rules.
A list of rules for the two of you to follow in order to have the ultimate friendship.
RULE NUMBER ONE: NO OTHER BEST FRIENDS ALLOWED.
Sunghoon had been your best friend for as long as you could remember. There was not a single memory you could recall where Sunghoon was not there, being practically glued to your hip ever since the two of you were born. In the video your parents had taken of you where you had just learned how to ride a bicycle Sunghoon could be heard cheering for you in the background, just like he was seen secretly blowing the candle out on your seventh birthday.
He could also be spotted in the framed picture hanging off the wall in your parent's room, the picture your parents had asked some poor tourist to take off you when Sunghoon came with your family on a skiing trip when you were fifteen. Everyone who saw the picture always asked who the handsome boy was and if it was your brother, which was almost true - Sunghoon was almost like a brother to you at this point.
A brother.
And with Sunghoon being your best friend and practically a part of your family, why would you ever need another best friend?
Both of your signatures could be found at the bottom of the page, Sunghoon’s first attempt to write his signature was scribbled over as he misspelled his own name and needed you to help him spell it. You had kissed the paper as a final way to seal the contract before forcing Sunghoon to do the same, and Sunghoon remembers shuddering in disgust as he pressed his lips onto the same spot as you - indirectly kissing his best friend, something he never wanted to experience, ever.
After that, you handed Sunghoon the list, telling him that he could keep it; knowing he would forget the rules otherwise knowing how forgetful he could sometimes be. So he did, storing it in the top drawer of his bedside table; where it remained, even ten years later.
‘’Wanna stay for dinner? I think my mom mentioned something about trying some new recipe she found,’’
‘’Can’t. Jay asked me to come over, we still have that English project to finish, remember?’’
A frown formed on Sunghoon’s face, watching as you kept your eyes glued to the screen of your phone. With a groan emerging from the back of his throat, he put his hand over your phone screen; covering whatever it was on your phone that possibly could’ve had you so invested, so invested that you hadn’t been paying any attention to Sunghoon for the last twenty minutes.
‘’But you’re always hanging out with Jay,’’
Sunghoon hated Jay.
Maybe hate wasn’t the right word to describe the feelings he felt towards Jay, maybe it was a little too harsh; dislike was probably a more fitting and less brutal word to describe what he felt towards the boy who had stolen his best friend away from him.
The tall, mysterious and seemingly charismatic boy had suddenly made an appearance in your life three months back. Sunghoon remembers hearing the name Jay trail off your lips for the first time when you were comfortably laying in his bed, watching as he tried clearing a level he had been stuck on for the last couple of weeks. He also remembers just shrugging it off as you told him about how you got partnered up with the new student for your English class as he focused on the monster taking up the screen of his TV instead, both his brows furrowed and the tip of his tongue poking his cheek in concentration.
The second time the name Jay left your lips, he was sitting in the school's cafeteria. He remembers scrolling through his phone while you talked about how easy your English assignment was, and that you had Jay to thank for making it so easy for you. He also remembers you rolling your eyes when he asked who Jay was, before you lightly hit him in the arm for not listening to you.
By the nth time Jay’s name had spilled past your lips, Sunghoon wondered if you had broken the first rule of your contract.
Especially when you suddenly could no longer attend your daily hangouts after school, also known as you going to his house to do nothing for a couple of hours before going home, only to repeat the same thing the next day. You had accompanied him home from school for as long as Sunghoon could remember, so why would it change now, ten years later?
Well, Sunghoon blamed Jay for changing the routine the two of you had kept going for years.
Suddenly, you were too busy accompanying Jay to his house after school instead. To work on your assignment, you had claimed, and that maybe you could come over afterward; if it wasn’t too dark out, that being said - even though Sunghoon had offered you to spend the night multiple times.
You never did come over after you went to Jay’s house nor did you ever spend the night. Sunghoon wondered if it was because you’d rather hang out with Jay, who had managed to snatch you away from him in every way possible, even when he wasn’t even present.
Like right now, for example.
Glaring at the boy sitting in front of you, you rolled your eyes before pushing his big hand away from the screen of your phone. ‘’We study together, Sunghoon. I kind of have to hang out with him.’’ You let out before your eyes wandered back to your phone, Sunghoon watching with the same frown plastered on his face as you typed something out using both your thumbs.
Watching as you typed, he tried changing the subject, not wanting to talk about the boy anymore. ‘’Who are you texting?’’ He tried peeking over your phone, to no avail; he couldn’t even see half of the screen from where he was sitting. Shifting around in his bed, you continued typing with a small smile on your lips, ‘’Jay, he’s asking if he should pick me up.’’
Feeling a lump form in his throat, which he didn’t know was in distress or annoyance, Sunghoon came to the realization he’d never be able to escape the topic of Park Jay; no matter how hard he tried.
‘’Tell him no, I’ll drive you.’’
His voice finally caused you to look up at him, properly this time, the small smile remaining on your lips. Sunghoon knew the smile wasn’t for him, yet it somewhat eased the uneasiness he was feeling from the thought of watching you get in someone else's car, more specifically Jay’s car, when he could easily drive you. ‘’Really?’’ You let out, both your brows raised and the screen of your phone turning off; giving Sunghoon the slightest hope that you wouldn’t turn it back on.
Nodding in response, he snatched the phone out of your hands, not giving you the chance to turn it back on; putting it behind his back. ‘’Only if you promise to pay attention to me for the remaining time.’’ He let out, causing a small chuckle to trail off your lips as you sat up straight against the headboard of his bed.
With your hands finding their way to his face, your soft hands squeezing his cheeks together; Sunghoon felt the lump in his throat completely disappear. ‘’I promise to pay attention to my clingy best friend.’’ You grinned, Sunghoon staring at you in distaste before turning his face away from you; causing your soft hands to slip away from his face. Pretending to wipe your touch away from his cheeks, he shook his head while listening to the giggles trailing off your lips.
‘’First of all, I’m not clingy,’’ He spoke, ‘’Second of all, you’re not my grandma so you have no business squeezing my cheeks like that.’’
Grinning at him, you once again grabbed onto his cheeks, ‘’I might not be your grandma, but I’m your best friend.’’
Fighting back a smile, he once again tried getting away from your grip; both of you laughing and Sunghoon suddenly felt like he was twelve again - when you were his only best friend and didn’t have to worry about you drifting away from him.
You remember when you laid eyes on the boy named Jay for the first time.
With his dark hair slicked back and pieces of hair falling onto his forehead, he had walked into the classroom with his hands shoved down the front pockets of his pants. You were sure he caught not only your attention, but everyone else’s as well; with his hawk-like eyes and sharp features, it was almost impossible not to find him alluring after all.
And with your professor introducing the stranger as Jay who had just moved schools, he had gazed over the class and nodded his head before taking a seat - the class continuing on as if nothing had happened.
Not for you though.
You remember watching him for the next couple of days after that, out of pure curiosity. You remember watching as he mindlessly browsed his laptop as your professor spoke with no open document in sight to take notes, you also remember how he got told off multiple times for having his AirPods in during class; only for him to show up the next day with the AirPods back in his ears. You admired him for that.
It took a week, a week of you as well as everyone else watching him from afar, for the seemingly quiet boy to be announced as your partner for the upcoming assignment.
You remember hearing his voice for the first time when he stood in front of you after class, and how you thought his voice suited him perfectly; the low and deep tone of his voice matching the enigmatic aura that seemed to surround him wherever he went. You also remember feeling baffled the first time you sat down to study, when he seemed to know everything surrounding the subject even though you knew he hadn’t been listening nor had he been taking notes of anything the professor had spoken of.
The once mysterious boy quickly became not so mysterious and you suddenly found yourself being around him more frequently.
You had learned a lot about the boy during the three months you had spent getting closer to him. Like the fact that he had a birthmark shaped somewhat like a heart on the side of his neck for example, a birthmark that you had observed the one time he leaned over you to look at the screen of your computer, or that he always smelled musky, a tone of bergamot following him everywhere he went - the smell engulfing you each time he pulled you into a hug to greet you.
You often found yourself wondering if you were the only one who knew those small things about him, and if the rest of the world still saw him as the mysterious boy you yourself once saw him as.
‘’I was beginning to think you flaked on me.’’
Once again, the woody fragrance you had now grown accustomed to engulfed you as the dark-haired boy towered above you, a playful smirk accompanying his words as you stood outside his front door.
The sky had gotten significantly darker compared to when you got into Sunghoons car, the night sky slowly replacing the orange tone that had decorated the sky just a few minutes prior. A smile formed on your lips as you shook your head, your eyes meeting his; taking a moment to observe his hooded eyes.
You had learned a lot about the boy during the few months you had known him, sure - yet you had the lingering feeling that there was still something about him you had yet to learn.
The feeling washed over you every time you got a glimpse of his eyes, each time leaving you to wonder just what it was that you had yet to learn. You knew he was an only child, you knew his father worked away from home which meant he had the apartment to himself most of the time, you knew his favorite color was purple thanks to the one time he came with you shopping - when he had pointed out one shirt in particular, a purple one, telling you to get it because he thought you’d look good in his favorite color.
You felt like you knew everything there was to know at this point, yet the strange and almost obscure feeling lingered.
‘’You really think I’d do that?’’ You chuckled as he stepped aside, allowing you to step into the dimly lit and quiet apartment. He liked it that way, you had figured out, considering the fact that it was always eerily quiet every time you came over; no radio mindlessly playing in the background, no random show playing on the TV - just simple quietness.
A chuckle emerged from the back of his throat as he watched you take your shoes off, shaking his head. ‘’I’d hope not, I mean, I’d like to consider us friends at this point.’’
The words caused you to look up at him, your lips slightly parted before a small grin spread across your lips. ‘’Should I feel honored? You make it sound like I should,’’ You grinned, successfully kicking your shoe off. Jay rolled his eyes in response, leaning his upper body against the wall behind him. ‘’No, but I think friends reply to each other's messages, no?’’
Lightly hitting his bicep, something Jay had figured out you did when you felt comfortable around someone, you shook your head. ‘’I’m sorry, I was at Sunghoons house and I forgot to reply,’’
The sudden mention of Sunghoon caused Jay to raise one of his eyebrows. ‘’Sunghoon? Let me think,’’ He hummed, squinting his eyes as if he was thinking, ‘’The boy you’re always hanging out with, right? The one you grew up with?’’ This time, it was your turn to roll your eyes after staring at him in disbelief for a moment. ‘’Yes, Sunghoon, the boy I’ve told you about like, what, a thousand times?’’ You let out, squinting your eyes back at him.
Jay had yet to meet Sunghoon, despite attending the same school as the two of you. There had been plenty of instances where they could’ve met, like every time you bumped into Jay in the hallways while casually talking to Sunghoon - your introverted friend, however, always just gave you a quick nod whenever he saw your face lit up upon seeing the other boy; leaving before you even had the opportunity to introduce the two.
You just shrugged it off as Sunghoon being his introverted self, and meeting new people just wasn’t his forte. You, however, had yet to learn about the boy's hatred towards the other boy and the fact that he had no desire whatsoever to meet the boy who had stolen his best friend away.
A smirk formed on Jay’s lips, gently punching you in the shoulder. ‘’I’m just playing, I’m assuming he drove you here?’’ He asked, not taking his eyes off of you as he started walking down the hallway leading to his room. You nodded in response, fixing the bag hanging off your shoulder as you followed him; earning a nod back from the taller boy.
‘’Hopefully I’ll get to meet this infamous Sunghoon one day.’’
‘’Maybe one day.’’
‘’How come you’re taking English classes if you already know all of this stuff?’’
Your question caused a low chuckle to emerge from the back of Jay's throat, not taking his eyes off the book placed in front of him. ‘’I think this is just common knowledge, Y/N,’’ He responded, causing you to frown. ‘’That’s just an indirect way of calling me stupid.’’ You mumbled, tearing your eyes off the boy seated in front of you before returning your gaze to the book placed in your lap.
Jay looked up at you, holding back a chuckle at the sight of you pouting; a small smile forming on his lips as he leaned over the bed, grabbing onto your chin before tilting your head up. Your eyes immediately met his, your eyes wide from his sudden action and the foreign feeling of his rough fingers gently gripping your chin; your eyes traveling down to the smile he wore on his plump lips.
And you almost missed the way his eyes traveled down to your lips, too.
‘’I don’t think you’re stupid.’’
Even though you felt like there was something you didn’t know about the boy, there was one thing you had learned - he wasn’t too big on psychical contact. It took weeks for him to greet you with a hug, only raising his eyebrows at you every time you tried to wrap your arms around him; leaving you feeling both embarrassed and dumb for thinking he’d want to hug you in the first place.
Until one day, he had taken you by surprise when you were waiting for him by his locker; his big hands suddenly grabbing onto your shoulders from behind before spinning you around, laughing at your shocked expression before hugging you for the first time.
After that, despite you stumbling over your words from utter shock from him hugging you without you initiating it, it became a habit to hug each other whenever you greeted one another.
You noticed he grew more comfortable around you as his small, almost unnoticeable touches happened more frequently. You remember him placing one of his hands on your thigh while you were reading something out loud and he wanted to read whatever you were reading too, or the one time he wrapped an arm around your shoulders while walking to the school's library; all while laughing at something you had said.
But this, him touching your face, had never happened before.
Noticing the way your lips separated like you were about to say something, but not a single word leaving your lips; he chuckled at the clearly flustered state you were in before letting go of your chin, going back to leaning against the wall by his bed. ”Plus I think it’d look good on my resume, don’t you think?” You just stared at him for a moment, watching as he went back to reading like he hadn’t just grabbed your chin; clearing your throat in a desperate attempt to hide your now flustered state.
‘’You know,’’ You let out after a while, trying to change the topic, ‘’I keep getting the feeling that there’s something I have yet to know about you.’’
Jay just cocked an eyebrow, he could feel you looking at him; keeping his eyes glued to the page he was reading. ‘’Yeah? And what would that be?’’ He let out, looking up at you before slightly tilting his head. You shrugged, ‘’I don’t know, I’m still trying to figure it out.’’ He just stared at you for a moment upon hearing your words, his eyes meeting yours as silence engulfed both of you.
‘’You want to know what I think?’’
You nodded your head, feeling both confused and nervous from the sudden silence - had you accidentally managed to offend him?
He took a moment to just look at you, his eyes scanning your face; causing you to slightly furrow your eyebrows as his eyes met yours once more. ‘’I think there’s a lot you don’t know about me.’’
The seriousness lingering behind his words caused your facial expression to soften and a chuckle to leave the back of your throat, shaking your head as you tore your eyes off the boy sitting in front of you; Jay, however, kept his eyes on you - watching as you went back to reading whatever page you were on, a small smile plastered on your lips.
You wondered if he was just trying to tease you, make fun of you even; realizing your sudden confession probably sounded like a joke to him, something you blurted out to avoid having him tease you for your flushed state.
‘’Yeah? Like what?’’
‘’Do you want me to show you?’’
His sudden exclamation caused your eyes to immediately dart back up, your eyes immediately being met by his own dark ones. Expecting to be greeted by his usual playful smile, you suddenly grew nervous once more as you realized the playful grin you had expected to see was nowhere to be seen.
No, with his eyes burning into your skin and his head slightly tilted, you realized he wasn’t teasing you.
‘’What?’’ You let out, trying your best to decipher the stern look on his face. It wasn’t unusual for Jay to walk around with a stern look on his face, his hawk-like eyes and sharp features making it look like he was constantly judging everyone around him. But this, the look he was giving you right now? No, it was nothing like the usual stern look he wore on his face.
‘’I said, do you want me to show you?’’
With his eyes still burning into your own, you found yourself unable to look away. His low eyes made it almost impossible for you to tear your gaze off him, desperate to understand what the new look he was giving you meant; even if it meant you had to stare right back at him, looking and feeling dumbfounded.
‘’Show me what?’’ The quietness of his apartment made you wonder if he could hear your heart practically beating out of your chest, suddenly feeling almost naked as he stared at you; his dark eyes piercing into your soul, causing a wave of uncertainty to wash over you. Your voice almost came out in a broken whisper, and you wondered if he even heard you.
The deafening silence almost made you repeat your question, keyword almost; you weren’t sure if you wanted him to respond, you weren’t sure if you wanted to know what his response would be.
Jay, however, did hear your question - but he didn’t reply, no, instead he tore his eyes off you to grab the novel he was reading; the noise of him slamming the book shut ricocheting off the walls, almost causing you to jump.
You didn’t even have time to react to the sudden noise before you suddenly felt Jay place both hands on either side of your legs, and before you knew it - he was towering right above you; his arms caging you in.
At that moment, that’s exactly what you felt like; like you were being caged. Like you were being held hostage, with one of his arms now placed against the headboard of his bed where you were comfortably resting your head and the other one placed by your shoulder, you froze.
His face was now only a few inches away from your own, almost feeling his breath fan across your face; the closeness almost causing you to hold your breath as you were unable to do anything but look at him with wide eyes.
The shock of him being so close to you caused your heart to race, his musky scent surrounding you in a way it had never surrounded you before; suddenly being able to smell his shampoo and the mint gum he had been chewing on a few minutes prior. You had been close to him many times before, you had been closer to him than this; like when he hugged you for example, your cheek pressing against his chest as his arms wraps around your figure.
But this? This was completely different from the friendly hugs he usually gave you. This was so much more intimate than all the hugs he had given you combined, his eyes still piercing into your own as you found yourself unable to look away once more - your lips parted and eyes wide as you stared right back at him.
His eyes darted between your eyes and lips, his dark gaze sending shivers down your spine. You desperately tried to say something, to move, anything: but almost like your limbs were frozen in place, you simply couldn’t; feeling like your whole brain had shut down and your vocal cords had never existed in the first place, you were left to do nothing but stare at him in pure shock.
At that moment, you wished that Jay would’ve left some random show to play on the TV, you wished that he’d at least put on some music while you were studying - anything, anything that could distract you from the way his lips were hovering above your own.
Jay’s eyes met your own once more before a low chuckle emerged from the back of his throat, the sudden sound breaking the silence almost causing you to jump once again. You suddenly felt him bop your nose using the hand he had previously placed right by your head, causing you to blink as a small smile formed on his lips, and before you knew it; he was no longer towering right above you.
‘’I’m just playing with you,’’ He laughed as climbed off of you, his musky scent no longer engulfing you and the mint on his breath no longer invading your senses, ‘’God, you should’ve seen the look on your face! What, do you think I’m some sort of serial killer?’’
Letting go of a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, you forced an awkward chuckle to leave your throat; the uneasiness and confusion lingering in your shaky chuckle being evident. You were quick to tear your gaze off him, almost feeling the need to gasp for air; your cheeks warm and your chest heaving under the shirt you were wearing. You could feel your heart beating and you were almost certain Jay could hear it from across the bed as well, the smile on his lips remaining as he shook his head at your panic, grabbing the book he had disregarded minutes prior.
Like nothing had ever happened, he went back to reading the novel your teacher had assigned you to read; leaving you to uncomfortably shift around in his bed, trying your best to find a comfortable position - trying your best to calm both your racing heart and thoughts.
The thought of Jay almost kissing you didn’t leave your mind for the entire night after that, not even when you found yourself in your own bed hours later - staring at the ceiling as you recalled the feeling of his breath on your face and his scent engulfing you, leaving you to wonder if you had wanted him to kiss you.
The thought remained, even when you woke up the following morning.
Like a stone, it sat in your stomach from the second your eyes fluttered open; only to be greeted by the morning sun peaking through the blinds. On your way to school, the thought still lingered; staring out the window of the passenger seat of Sunghoons car as he mindlessly talked about something, something you couldn’t bring yourself to listen to no matter how hard you tried.
Even during math, the thought of Jay clouded your mind as you desperately tried to focus on the numbers filling your page. But instead, you only stared at the empty paper placed in front of you, the pen you were holding in your hand ghosting over the paper; unable to think about anything but Jay’s body pressing against your own and the way his lips had ghosted over your own.
You, however, despite Jay potentially trying to kiss you clouding your mind; couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you were making it all up. Perhaps Jay hadn’t actually tried to kiss you, maybe it was just your mind playing tricks on you; maybe he had actually just tried to tease you, he did enjoy seeing you all flustered after all - something you had learned the hard way.
Jay had made you flustered multiple times during your short friendship, more times than you could count. Like when he’d compliment you on the smallest things, for example, the jewelry you chose to wear, or when he’d compliment you on your choice of perfume for that particular day; telling you that you smelled good while pulling you in for a hug to greet you. The smirk he’d wear on his lips every time he’d see your cheeks turn a peachy color made it clear that he enjoyed seeing you like that, making you wonder if he did it purely to make you flustered.
And with the same smirk on his lips, this time while being dangerously close to your face, you were left to wonder if he was in fact just trying to make you flustered.
‘’Are you okay?’’
Sunghoon’s sudden voice caused you to snap out of your thoughts, your eyes landing on the boy walking beside you. With his brows slightly furrowed together, he stared at you; waiting for you to reply. Clearing your throat, you nodded. ‘’Sorry, what were you saying?’’ You mumbled, your gaze returning to the ground underneath you.
A day later, and Jay was still preoccupying your mind; unbeknownst to Sunghoon, who was too busy celebrating the fact that you finally agreed to hang out with him after school. So busy that he almost failed to notice the way you hadn’t been listening to a single word that had left his mouth since that very same morning when he picked you up outside your house, so busy that he almost didn’t notice the way you had only hummed in response to whatever he had said.
Until he eventually did realize, hours later - when you hadn’t uttered a single word for the past fifteen minutes.
Pressing his lips into a thin line, he looked at you; his steps coming to a halt, grabbing onto your wrist to prevent you from taking as much as a single step. The feeling of his hand wrapping around your wrist caused you to look up at him once more, both your eyebrows raised as your eyes met his now concerned ones. ‘’What’s up?’’
You could clearly hear the concern lingering behind his words and for a moment you felt guilty, guilty for making him worry. Letting out a chuckle, you shook your head, ‘’It’s nothing, I just have a lot on my mind right now, college, you know?’’
If things had been different and if Sunghoon hadn’t been your best friend for the past twenty years, he would’ve believed you. But he had known you his entire life and he most definitely did not believe you, he could easily tell there was something more than just college on your mind by just looking at you - leaving him to wonder why you felt the need to hide something from him, a frown forming on his face.
‘’You sure?’’ He asked, scanning your face; trying to find out what it was that was preoccupying your mind, what it was that had you so deep into your own thoughts - to no avail as you only flashed him a bigger smile, causing Sunghoon to poke the inside of his cheek using his tongue.
‘’Cut the bullshit.’’
The smile that you had just worn on your lips slowly faded as your best friend called you out, a frown taking over your features as a small sigh escaped your lips; feeling Sunghoon let go of your wrist, letting his hand fall back down the side of his body. ‘’It’s really nothing,’’ You mumbled, avoiding his gaze; missing the way he rolled his eyes upon hearing your words.
‘’If you say so.’’
Your gaze once again landed on the boy as he continued walking, your eyes landing on the back of his head; another sigh escaping your lips as you debated on whether or not to tell your best friend what was weighing you down.
You trusted Sunghoon. You trusted Sunghoon more than you trusted anyone else. he was your best friend, after all, a brother even. But despite your close relationship with one another, love and everything surrounding the topic was just something you didn’t talk about; no matter what.
Maybe it was because of that one time you told him about the crush you had on one of the boys in your class during middle school and he laughed at you, leaving you feeling both embarrassed and angry, angry that you told him in the first place if he was just going to make fun of you. Or maybe it was because of that one time you had to comfort him after he got rejected, something he refused to speak about ever again; you weren’t sure, but one thing was for sure.
You simply did not talk about those things. Or you didn’t, until what had been on your mind eventually slipped past your lips.
‘’I think Jay tried to kiss me last night.’’
As soon as the words left your lips, Sunghoon regretted ever asking.
A sudden burning sensation spread across his chest, feeling like his heart was caving in; his breath almost hitching in his throat upon hearing your words. Feeling like someone had grabbed onto his heart and ripped it out of his chest, crushing it before stomping on it; he wished he had never asked you in the first place.
He wished he wouldn’t have asked what was on your mind, he wished he wouldn’t have known you so well to the point where he could easily tell that something was wrong - anything, anything to avoid the ache he was suddenly feeling in his chest, an ache he had never experienced before.
Almost feeling the need to grab onto the fabric covering his chest, he froze. Like he was unable to move, he just stared at his car that stood parked in the school's parking lot a few feet away.
‘’Did you kiss him?’’
The words trailed off Sunghoon’s lips before he could even comprehend what he was saying, the words leaving his lips before he could even consider what to say; not sure if he actually wanted an answer to his question.
You just stared at him, confusion washing over you upon seeing his reaction. With his back still facing you, you furrowed your brows; making you wonder if perhaps you shouldn’t have said anything, considering the way his steps came to an abrupt stop and his shoulder tensed. ‘’No,’’ You let out, uncertainty lingering in your voice as you stared at him.
‘’Did you want to kiss him?’’
Squeezing his eyes shut, Sunghoon had to bite his own tongue in order to not say anything else. He didn’t even want to know if you wanted to kiss Jay, no, he didn’t want you to want to kiss Jay; the question slipping past his lips quicker than he was able to think.
Sunghoon wasn’t a religious man, he had never been and he probably never would be either. But at that moment, Sunghoon prayed for the first time in his life; with his eyes squeezed shut, he prayed that you’d say no.
He prayed that you’d laugh, he prayed that you would tell him how you didn’t want to kiss Jay - anything, he prayed for you to say anything other than a yes.
He, however, didn’t know if the silence that followed his question was any better than if you would’ve said yes.
Turning around to face you, he felt the heavy feeling in his chest spread even further as he spotted the look on your face. With your lips pressed into a thin line, you just stared at him; causing Sunghoon’s heart to sink, your silence hurting more than if you were to say yes.
‘’Did you?’’ You bit down on your lower lip as he repeated his question, his brown eyes now staring into your own. You tried to figure out what the look on his face meant, the look that he usually wore on his face whenever he felt disappointed. But he wasn’t disappointed, not right now, he couldn’t be, right? What was there to possibly be disappointed about?
‘’No, I mean, I don’t know,’’ You mumbled, shrugging your shoulders as you spoke. Fighting the urge to avoid his piercing gaze, you nibbled on your bottom lip; the look on his face making you wonder whether he was disappointed or just felt awkward.
The sudden dry chuckle that left his lips, however, told you everything you needed to know. ‘’You don’t know?’’ Almost speaking through gritted teeth, the tone of his voice taking you by surprise; causing you to frown.
‘’Yeah, I don’t know,’’ You let out, your eyebrows furrowed together as he shook his head; another dry chuckle, a chuckle in disbelief, ripping through his chest.
‘’You have to know if you wanted him to kiss you or not Y/N,’’ He argued, not taking his eyes off of you, watching as your eyes widen in surprise. ‘’What? I don’t know Sunghoon, I don’t know if I wanted him to kiss me or not!’’ You defended yourself, confusion washing over you as the boy in front of you only seemed to grow even more agitated the more you spoke.
Letting out a sigh in annoyance, Sunghoon ran one of his hands through his hair in an attempt to somewhat calm himself down, ‘’For fucks sake,’’
‘’Why are you getting mad?’’
Your question caused Sunghoon to freeze, letting his arm fall down the side of his body again, his lips parting like he was about to say something; but with not a single word leaving his lips, the boy remained silent.
You were right, why was he getting mad?
Any other best friend would be happy, happy that their best friend met someone - so why was Sunghoon feeling like someone stabbed him in the heart, and not happy? Why did the thought of his best friend almost kissing another guy, someone who wasn’t him, cause a burning feeling to spread across his chest?
Your big eyes, filled with both surprise and disappointment caused Sunghoons gaze to soften. Realizing he had lashed out at you with no real explanation, confusing both you and himself, he placed his tongue between his teeth. ‘’We’ll hang out some other day, alright?’’ He managed to mumble after a moment of silence, his voice low and you were sure you could hear what sounded like both anger and sadness lingering behind his words.
‘’Sunghoon, wait,’’
The boy had already turned around before you could even utter as much as a word, feeling the need to reach out and grab onto him to stop him from walking away from you; your hand leaving your side, just to retract it just as quickly - realizing it was no use.
He was already walking away, leaving you to stand alone in the school's parking lot.
Feeling both confused and as if someone had just punched him in the face, Sunghoon came to the realization that you had in fact broken the first rule. And maybe, just maybe, he had broken one of the rules himself.
Radio silence.
Sunghoon didn’t pick you up the following day, even though he had picked you up every single day ever since he got his license and even though you stood outside your house at 8 AM sharp - his car never turned the corner, like he always did.
Nor did he text you that night, after leaving you in the parking lot all on your own; leaving you to take the bus as your only ride home left you stranded.
Nothing but utter, complete radio silence.
Perhaps it was your own fault, you thought, you had been zoned out the entire day and completely uninterested in anything he had said after all. But the confusion still lingered, the confusion as to why he lashed out at you; as to what could've gotten him so upset to the point where he grew so aggravated, to the point where he felt the need to leave you with no explanation, no nothing.
Instead, you were left confused, with tears staining your cheeks all the way until the early hours of the morning, but most of all: hurt.
You were left hurt.
The boy now standing in front of you, however, seemed equally as confused with your unannounced presence.
‘’Y/N? What are you doing here?’’ Jay let out in surprise as he opened his front door, only to reveal you standing there; the cold winds sending goosebumps down your arms as you shoved your hands further down your pockets in an attempt to warm yourself up. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his and Jay wondered if your cheeks were red from the cold autumn weather that had slowly been approaching, or if you had been crying.
‘’Can I come in, or is it a bad time?’’
Maybe it wasn’t the most ideal time for you to show up at Jay’s door, completely unannounced, judging by the way his hair was dripping wet and the towel he was holding in one of his hands. But with Sunghoon completely ignoring you and your heart still slightly aching from your best friend being disappointed, angry - whatever it was he was with you, it was obvious to you that he wouldn’t hang out with you today.
Despite it being the one day of the week, the one day when you had promised him to hang out with him, clearing your schedule to go over to his house; sometimes even sleeping over, if he managed to convince you, that being said.
Not today, you guessed.
Jay looked at you for a moment, before a warm smile spread on his lips. ‘’You’re always welcome here, silly.’’
The warmth of Jay’s apartment welcomed you with open arms, shielding you from the cold winds raging outside; mentally scolding yourself for not wearing something warmer. A low sigh escaped your lips as you sat down at the edge of Jay’s bed, rubbing your hands together in an attempt to warm yourself up. ‘’I thought today was no study day?’’ Jay spoke as he entered the room, his eyes questioning you as he rubbed the towel against his scalp; preventing droplets of water to drop from the ends of his hair.
You looked up at him, your eyes scanning his figure. With nothing but a flimsy tank top covering his chest, the lack of sleeves leaving his biceps out for you to see - you almost felt the need to look away. Almost like you weren’t supposed to be looking at him, your breath hitched in your throat.
Quickly gazing back down at your hands, still rubbing them together to create some warmth, you shook your head in response. ‘’Change in plans,’’ You lightly chuckled, the sound of Jay draping the towel over the door leading into his room causing you to gaze back up at him, reluctant to do so. He looked over at you, his lips parting as if he was about to say something; his eyes meeting yours.
The room fell silent and you wondered if perhaps he could sense how tense you were. Perhaps he could hear your heart thumping against your chest, just from him simply looking at you, all the way across the room; or maybe it was the look in your eyes that gave it away, you weren’t sure.
But one thing was for sure, Jay most definitely noticed something - slightly tilting his head at you.
‘’How come?’’
Now it was your turn to shrug, forcing yourself to tear your eyes off of him; his eyes still burning into your skin as you looked away. ‘’Plans changed, I guess,’’ You mumbled, the room falling silent once more.
‘’Why have you been crying?’’
Jay wasn’t sure if you had actually been crying, or if it was the cold causing a red color to flush your cheeks. Trusting his gut feeling, the words softly trailed off his lips; and judging by the way you immediately looked up at him with wide eyes and your shoulders tensing up upon hearing his words - he realized he was right and that it was, in fact, the first option.
Parting your lips like you were about to say something, you felt like sinking through the ground. You had hoped that the cold would’ve helped you cover up your tearstained cheeks and puffy eyes, and maybe anyone else wouldn’t have noticed; but Jay did notice, and you wished he hadn’t - because then you wouldn’t have to awkwardly laugh it off.
You forced a chuckle to leave the back of your throat, bringing one of your hands to your face as you shook your head. ‘’Crying? It’s just cold out,’’ Pressing the back of your hand against your cheek in an attempt to show him that you were in fact just cold, even though that wasn’t the case; hoping he’d just shrug it off.
He didn’t.
No, instead he just looked at you with his head still tilted, the look on his face making it clear to you that he did not believe your little white lie; not even a little bit. The room fell silent and you wondered if it was disappointment lingering in his dark eyes, disappointment over the fact that you had lied to him.
‘’You don’t have to tell me, you know,’’ He uttered, breaking the silence. His voice was warm as he spoke, nothing like the dagger-like tone that had lingered behind Sunghoon’s words when he had spoken to you, no; Jay’s soothing and sincere voice sounded nothing like the sharp words that had trailed off your best friend's lips. ‘’I just want you to know that I’m here to listen, always.’’
You hadn’t anticipated the lump that was now beginning to form in your throat, nor had you expected Jay to comfort you. You weren’t sure if Jay actually knew how comforting his words were, or if he was even being sincere; but the look in his eyes told you he was and you wondered if he also noticed the tears that had formed in your eyes.
He must’ve, because before you could even blink, you felt him place his weight next to you on the edge of his bed. Your eyes met his once more as he placed one of his hands on top of your thigh, his sudden touch taking you by surprise; but the look in his eyes, however, made you feel even more surprised.
His normally cat-like eyes no longer looked as mysterious to you, not with concern lingering in his dark brown orbs. With his eyes filled with both concern and what almost looked like admiration, you couldn’t help but let the broken sob that had been trying to claw its way out of your throat finally escape.
‘’It’s Sunghoon.’’
Jay was quick to wrap his arm around you before the broken sob could even leave your throat, gently pressing you against his chest before letting his head rest on top of yours. You let the tears that had been threatening to leave your eyes fall, feeling slightly embarrassed for crying in his arms; Jay humming as the name ‘Sunghoon’ trailed off your lips.
Once again, his musky scent engulfed you as his fingers combed through your hair. This time, however, the musky scent you had gotten used to comforted you in a way you had never expected it to - wrapping your arms around his torso in an attempt to get even closer to the boy holding you.
Jay hadn’t heard a whole lot about your so-called best friend, Sunghoon. He knew you grew up with each other and that he had seen him a handful of times in the hallways, but other than that; Park Sunghoon was practically a mystery to him.
But the second his name trailed off your lips, accompanied by your glossy eyes - Jay realized that the name Sunghoon was going to leave a sour taste in his mouth for a very, very long time.
‘’It’s okay,’’ Jay hummed into your hair, his heart clenching as he felt you grab onto him even harder, making him wonder for a split second if you were scared he was going to leave. Maybe you were, perhaps you were afraid he’d leave you on your own; you weren’t sure either, but there was one thing Jay was sure about.
He wasn’t going to let you go.
‘’I’m sorry,’’ You mumbled into his shirt, causing a low chuckle to leave Jay’s lips. You were about to look up at him, his sudden chuckle making you frown into the fabric of his tank top; making you feel stupid. But before you even had the chance to move your head, you felt Jay’s hand slowly slip away from your waist and grab onto the side of your face - making you look up at him.
Your breath hitched in your throat as your eyes met his, a small smile on his lips as he looked at you. His face was only a few inches away from yours, closer than he had ever been before - his thumb gently stroking your cheek making it even harder for you to breathe. ‘’Don’t you dare say you’re sorry,’’ He let out, ‘’Especially when you have nothing to be sorry about.’’
Maybe if Jay hadn’t planted the idea in your mind, you wouldn’t have kissed him. Maybe if he hadn’t gotten so close, maybe if his smell hadn’t invaded all your senses, and maybe if his rough fingers hadn’t dragged across your cheek; you wouldn’t have placed your hand in the nape of his neck and brought your face towards his own.
But you did, and you almost felt the need to let out a gasp as his plump lips came into contact with your own lips, the tears that had made their way down your face coating your lips.
Jay, however, also felt the need to almost gasp for air as your salty lips came into contact with his own dry ones. He almost pulled away, he almost let you slip away from his grip; and also he knows he probably should. He knows he shouldn’t let you kiss him, he knows he shouldn’t pull you closer and he knows he most definitely shouldn’t let his fingers run through your hair.
But how could he possibly not, when he had wanted nothing else but this for the past three months?
His lips moved against your own with such urgency, such desperation; his fingertips tugging at the roots of your hair as you placed your other hand on the side of his face, bringing him even closer to you. Feeling his tongue suddenly swipe across your bottom lip, you had to fight back from letting a small whine leave your throat; slightly parting your lips, letting his wet muscle come into contact with your own.
The tears that had previously left your eyes were now nowhere to be seen, Jay using his thumb to wipe them away as he helped you straddle him; his lips not leaving yours as you placed yourself on top of his lap. Feeling one of his hands leave your face and drag down your side before eventually resting at your waist, you almost shivered under his touch.
With your fingertips grazing over the water droplets that had dripped onto the skin of his neck thanks to him not properly drying his hair, Jay let out a low groan against your lips; the sudden sensation of your soft fingers tickling his skin causing his grip around your waist to tighten. The feeling of his fingernails digging into your skin caused a gasp to leave your lips, causing you to pull away from the kiss for a split second.
Jay just looked at you for a moment, admiring you; with you on his lap and your eyelashes stuck together from the tears that had spilled past the corners of your eyes, he had to bite down on his lower lip in order to somewhat ground himself - both of your chests heaving up and down from the intense kiss.
‘’Whatever he did,’’ Jay mumbled after a moment of silence, watching his fingers graze over the skin of your cheek as he spoke, ‘’It’s not worth crying over.’’
His soft words almost caused tears to form in your eyes once more, your lips meeting his before they even had a chance to form and drop onto your cheeks, again. This time, Jay was quick to slip his hand under your shirt, his warm hand gently stroking your waist as his rough lips continued to attack yours. The feeling of his hand coming into contact with your skin caused you to unconsciously move around in his lap, a hiss suddenly leaving Jay’s lips as he pulled away.
You were about to open your eyes, a pang of fear shooting through your body as he pulled away; fear that maybe he didn’t want to kiss you. Maybe he realized that letting you kiss him in the first place was a mistake, that he didn’t actually want to - until you suddenly felt his wet hair come into contact with the skin of your neck, that being said.
Followed by a water droplet dropping knot your skin, you felt him press a soft kiss right underneath your ear; causing you to tilt your head to the side, your eyes fluttering shut once more as your lips parted at the sensation. Leaving a trail of kisses down the side of your neck, his rough lips accompanied by his tongue occasionally swiping across your skin; a low whimper emerged from the back of your throat.
‘’Jay,’’ You whimpered, your head still tilted to the side, giving the man easy access to your neck. Nibbling on your skin, he hummed; the vibrations as well as his hand still gently stroking the side of your body causing another whine to spill past your lips. ‘’Can you take my mind off it, please?’’
Your soft whisper caused Jay to detach his lips from your neck, his eyes meeting yours once more. He slightly tilted his head, using his thumb to swipe across your bottom lip as you stared at him; your eyes wide and Jay could practically see the desperation inside of them. ‘’How would I do that?’’ He let out, his voice low as his gaze landed on his thumb, watching as your bottom lip followed his movements.
You stared at him for a moment, the feeling of his rough fingers pressed against your bottom lip almost making you feel dizzy. ‘’Can you make me feel good?’’
Jay’s eyes widened for a split second as the words rolled off your tongue so softly, so softly that he almost missed them and he probably would’ve, if the apartment hadn’t been so quiet. His movements stopped, the pad of his thumb remaining on your bottom lip as his eyes met yours once more.
He looked for any type of doubt, any type of sign; a sign that giving into the urges he had carried around with him for months at this point would be a bad idea, something he’d regret later on; but there was none, no matter how hard he looked.
No, instead he was met with your lustful eyes; your eyes filled with what Jay could only identify as the very same lust he himself was feeling. ‘’You want me to make you feel good?’’ He breathed, not taking his eyes off of you as he spoke, still looking for any type of warning sign telling him not to do it.
You nodded in response, ‘’Please.’’
And as soon as your soft voice filled the room and confirmed for Jay that you, in fact, wanted him, you suddenly felt yourself being thrown on the bed; with Jay suddenly towering above you - just like he had done two days prior. This time, however, he leaned down and pressed his lips against your own.
‘’I’ll make you feel good, okay?’’ He grunted, resting his forehead against your own. His words caused a whimper to leave your lips, eagerly nodding your head in response. ‘’’Just wanna have you, Jay,’’ You whimpered, wrapping your hands around his neck.
A low hiss left Jay’s lips as he dipped his head in the nape of your neck, his lips latching onto your sensitive skin once more; this time, however, his kisses were much rougher and the grip he had around your waist only hardened as he buckled his hips into your own. A whine emerged from the back of your throat as you threw your head back, a small wet patch forming in your underwear as his crotch pressed against your own; one of your hands gripping onto his wet hair.
‘’I’ll make you forget everything but my name.’’
A loud gasp left your throat as he pressed his hips against your own once more, this time even harder, his teeth sinking into your skin; not even giving you the time to process what he had just said. Letting your hands get tangled into the wet locks covering his neck, you slightly tugged at his hair - earning a low grunt from him in return as he gently rolled his hips against your crotch.
You weren’t sure if this was the best way to take your mind off what had been weighing you down, or Sunghoon, more specifically. It wasn’t like you intended to end up under Jay, with his lips attached to your neck and his crotch grinding against your own when you showed up at his house, no, you thought maybe he could distract you and your wandering thoughts by maybe catching up on your English assignment.
This, however, feeling his rough fingers roam your body and his lips decorating your skin seemed to be working much better than studying ever could.
You hadn’t even noticed the way Jay had slowly begun to kiss down your neck, now letting his teeth nibble on the skin surrounding your collarbones; his hand that had previously been stroking your side was now gently pulling the fabric of your shirt further up your stomach, the cold air coming into contact with your now very hot, exposed skin causing you to whimper.
His lips suddenly left your skin, the loss of contact causing you to open your eyes and look down at him; only to be met by him already looking at you. His eyes were low, looking up at you through hooded eyes as he slowly moved down the bed - placing feather like kisses on top of your stomach while doing so. Your lips parted as you watched him kiss down your stomach, hooking both his arms under either side of your legs as he placed himself between them.
Keeping his eyes on you, he placed a kiss on the inside of your clothed thigh. ‘’Are you sure about this?’’ He mumbled against your thigh, still pressing small pecks on the inside of your thigh as he spoke. You quickly nodded, your hands finding their way back to his hair; your fingertips running through his now slightly dry hair. ‘’Please,’’ You whispered, nibbling on your bottom lip in anticipation.
A low chuckle left his throat, pressing one last kiss onto the inside of your thigh before his hands slipped off your hips; slowly making their way toward the zipper of your pants. ‘’Since you asked so nicely,’’ He mumbled, his fingers playing with your zipper, ‘’How about we take these off?’’
His eyes met yours once again, your head bobbing up and down in a nod once more; feeling the wet patch that had formed in your underwear grow more and more with each passing second. Only smirking at you, his gaze landed on your core as he unzipped your pants before helping you pull them down your legs - leaving you with nothing but your underwear on and your shirt scrunched up by your chest.
Jay immediately spotted the wet patch that had formed on the cotton fabric covering your hole, his cock twitching in his pants at the sight; having to hold back a groan from leaving his throat as he placed one of his fingers against your clit, slowly letting it run up and down your clothed core.
The sudden sensation caused a gasp to trail off your lips. The back of your head hit the pillow placed behind you, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt the fabric of your underwear drag up and down your slit. ‘’Is this what a little bit of kissing does to you, hm?’’ Jay cooed, causing you to whimper as he applied some pressure to your clit. ‘’Jay,’’ You whined, your voice almost coming out in a broken whisper. Another chuckle left Jay’s lips as he used his other hand to gently stroke your thigh, leaning down to press a kiss on top of your clothed clit.
‘’I know, I know,’’ He mumbled, hooking one of his fingers under the fabric of your underwear, ‘’I’m not going to tease you, baby.’’
The nickname rolling off his tongue accompanied by the cold air hitting your now wet core as he pulled the fabric to the side caused a low moan to leave your lips, grabbing onto his hair even harder. Jay bit down on his bottom lip as your wet slit was fully revealed to him, once again letting his fingers run up and down your slit. This time, the moan that trailed off your lips as your arousal coated his finger caused him to slightly buck his hips into the mattress underneath him - finally letting his tongue come into contact with your core.
The feeling of his plump lips latching onto your clit with no warning whatsoever caused a gasp mixed together with a moan to rip through your chest, his tongue swiping against your clit causing your head to sink even further into the pillow. Using one hand to gently stroke your inner thigh while his tongue circled around your clit, a low grunt left his throat as he felt you tug at his hair even harder.
‘’Fuck,’’ You let out, taken aback by Jay’s eagerness - expecting him to go slow on you. Jay, however, had no plans on going slow on you; you wanted him to take your mind off things, didn’t you?
You suddenly felt him place his other hand by your entrance, his lips still wrapped around your clit; another low gasp leaving your lips as you felt one of his fingers trace the outside of your entrance. Jay let out a low hum of satisfaction upon feeling the amount of arousal spilling out of your hole, the vibrations causing you to arch your back.
Before you knew it, he was slipping one of his fingers into you with ease; your slick walls welcoming his finger, the feeling causing both you and Jay to let out a moan. Jay gave you no time to get used to his finger filling you up before suddenly curling it, and judging by the whimpers that were leaving your lips, Jay realized he must’ve found your g-spot.
Jay knew nothing about Sunghoon, your so-called best friend, but as he heard you whimper underneath him; he wondered if Sunghoon had ever had the opportunity to make you feel as good as he currently was.
The thought caused a burning feeling to spread across Jay’s chest, and he decided that if Sunghoon had ever made you whimper like you currently were; well, in that case, he was going to make you feel better than anyone else had ever made you feel before.
Feeling him slip yet another finger into you, another broken gasp left your lips as he began thrusting them out of you, before plunging them back into you. His tongue was still playing with your clit, the combination of both his tongue and his fingers caused you to squeeze your eyes shut as an overwhelming feeling of pleasure washed over you.
‘’Jay,’’ You moaned, feeling a familiar knot beginning to form in your stomach; Jay’s fingers thrusting into you while his tongue left kitten licks on your clit causing you to almost buck your hips against his face. Jay looked up at you, smirking against your cunt as he spotted your face.
With your hair spread out on the pillow and your lips slightly parted, you looked just like what Jay had fantasized about in the darkness of his room while tugging at his own cock, broken whimpers of your name spilling past his slips each and every time.
Only this time, it was broken whimpers of his name spilling past your lips, not the opposite; and Jay wondered if you had ever thought about him like this before, too.
Thrusting his fingers into you, he curled his fingers; both his fingertips grazing against your g-spot as he wiggled his fingers inside of you. Keeping his eyes on you, he watched as broken moans and whimpers left your lips as you tried your best to stay still; to no avail. How were you supposed to stay still, when Jay was currently fingering you unlike no one else had ever done before?
Jay held back a chuckle as he watched your chest heave up and down, your legs slightly shaking and threatening to lock him in place; not that he would’ve complained, if it was up to him, he’d spend all eternity between your legs - just to hear the sweet moans that left your lips as his tongue swiped against your clit and as his fingers got coated in your arousal.
‘’Fuck, wish I could take a picture of you right now,’’
Jay’s sudden muffled confession caused you to whimper, clenching around his fingers; which most definitely didn’t go unnoticed by Jay. Cocking an eyebrow in surprise, you felt him chuckle against your cunt. ‘’Yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’’
‘’Fuck, Jay,’’ You whined in response, feeling your orgasm approaching; which Jay did, too. feeling your walls beginning to clench around his fingers was the first sign that you were close, plus the fact that you were unknowingly trying to get away from his grip; your hips lifting off the mattress every now and then as he hit just the right spot with his finger or as he sucked on your clit.
Detaching his lips from your clit, panting from the lack of oxygen as he pressed a sloppy kiss against your inner thigh; his fingers still thrusting in and out of you. ‘’Are you close, baby?’’ He let out, to which you only nodded in response.
You wanted to tell him how good he was, how incredibly good he was making you feel and how close you were to making a mess all over his fingers; but you simply couldn’t. Almost like you had gone mute, the words refused to leave your throat; your throat dry as you panted, trying your hardest to form a sentence.
Jay, however, noticed how you were struggling to speak as you began to move your hips in sync with his fingers in an attempt to chase your high, the sound of the base of his fingers coming into contact with your sticky entrance filling the room combined with your heavy panting and low whimpers.
Smirking against your thigh, he placed one last kiss onto the skin of your thigh. ‘’Then be a good girl and cum for me.’’
Curling his fingers one more time, harshly wiggling them around caused the knot that had formed in your stomach to finally snap. Letting your hands fall onto your sides, grabbing onto the sheets as your orgasm washed over you in an attempt to ground yourself; a high-pitched moan ripping through your chest as Jay felt you coat his fingers with your cum. Watching as your hole swallowed his fingers, Jay bit down on his bottom lip - hoping he’d one day get to experience you clenching like that around his cock.
‘’Good girl, that’s a good girl,’’ He cooed, gently stroking your thigh as your body trembled underneath him. ‘’Look so pretty cumming for me.’’
Once he felt your body beginning to relax, he slowly slipped his fingers out of your hole; placing a soft kiss against your now sensitive clit, making you whimper as you shook your head. Sitting up straight, he wiped his mouth using the back of his hand before once again climbing on top of you. A small smile formed on his lips as he came face to face with you, the fucked out state of you making him feel accomplished.
Using the hand he hadn’t used to fuck you, he gently stroked your cheek in an attempt to make you open your eyes. His smile only widened as your eyes fluttered open, you looking up at him through low eyes; his hand running through your head to help you come down from your high. ‘’You did really good,’’ He mumbled, leaning down to press a soft kiss on top of your forehead.
His words caused a small smile to form on your lips as you wrapped both arms around his neck once again. ‘’You did really good.’’ You mumbled in response, your eyes heavy and your whole body feeling slack from the overwhelming orgasm you had just experienced.
A chuckle was heard coming from the boy above you, his fingers still threading through your now messy hair. ‘’Did I manage to take your mind off it?’’ He asked, his eyes meeting yours. You only nodded in response, too tired to properly respond - which was more than enough for Jay. Leaning down once again, he pressed a soft kiss against the corner of your mouth. ‘’How about you spend the night, hm?’’
Pulling him closer to you, his musky scent engulfed you for the nth time that day; nodding your head once more, feeling Jay press a soft kiss against your shoulder as he hummed against your skin.
While Jay definitely had managed to take your mind off Sunghoon, you hadn’t left Sunghoon’s mind; not even once, no matter how hard he had tried to distract himself. And maybe, just maybe, if Sunghoon would’ve texted you five minutes earlier that day, you actually would’ve seen the message about him asking to come over.
And maybe, just maybe, if Sunghoon would’ve texted you five minutes earlier that day, you actually would’ve seen the message about him asking to come over.
#enhypen smut#enhypen hard hours#jay smut#jay hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#jay hard thoughts#park jay smut#park jay hard hours#park jay hard thoughts#park jongseong smut#park jongseong hard thoughts#park jongseong hard hours#jay enhypen smut#enhypen jay smut#jongseong smut#jongseong hard hours#jongseong hard thoughts#enhypen hyung line smut#enhypen hyung line hard hours#heeseung smut#sunghoon smut#jake smut#heeseung hard hours#sunghoon hard hours#jake hard hours#lee heeseung smut#park sunghoon smut#sim jake smut#lee heeseung hard hours#park sunghoon hard hours
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"passenger princess" | final chapter
the hobbit | a modern!AU by itsonlydana
❱ pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader
❱ wordcount: 7,5k
❱ summary: the rules of a man keeping love from himself and the girl who broke them
❱ warnings: mature language
❱ an: so, here it is. The last chapter. This was originally 24k on ao3 and now we hit 42k and around 148 pages on google docs. This has been unbelievable and i'm so glad to have added this and that and posted on here <3 thank you all for every comment & kudos & repost and just all of it🩷
general m.list + series m.list
🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot - especially with longer projects <3
CHAPTER NINE: WHISPERS
The drive was a lot quieter than usual.
The radio still played classical music, the soft piano music filtering through the stereo and cradling you in welcome melodies. Instead of the usual chatter, you opted for silence, preferring to listen to Thranduil as he talked to you about his day in the softest of voices.
Once or twice you huffed out a wet laugh through your nose at something he sayed, a quip against one of his coworker or a joke he thought off, nearly soundless but Thranduils lips quirked up nevertheless.
He proved to be correct about the weather forecast too; shortly after the car departed from the city streets and ventured onto the highway, the skies opened up.
Initially, the rain descended in a gentle pitter-patter, small droplets defiantly challenging the windshield wipers. The lights of passing cars transformed into watercolor circles, providing a soothing spectacle that eased your eyes and calmed your nerves.
And not once left Thranduils hand your leg for longer than necessary.
You were watching him, looking at his side profile as he drove you through the night and quietly chatting. Giving you time. Not pushing you into telling him why he had to pick you up crying and had to hold you while you were crashing down a cliff.
He'd done it without a second thought, picking you up this godless hour like he hadn't been in bed already and abandoned sleep for you.
Thranduil, who waited for you to be ready to tell him what happened, throwing his evening plans for you overboard, once again coming to get you and comforting you with his touch; the spark inside your heart soared.
If this wasn't love, what else could it be?
By the time you arrived at the Oropherion home, the soft drizzle of the rain had turned into merciless streams of water crashing down to earth, obscuring the view out the front window as soon as the ignition died and the wipers came to a stop.
The seatbelts clicked loudly.
"I forgot an umbrella."
You turned your head from the shape of the house you could make out through the water streaming down the window to Thranduil. He had leaned forward to be able to look out the window as well, head tilted sideways and his mouth curled downwards at the sides.
"I guess we will have to run," you said softly.
"No. I will run, grab one of the umbrellas in the entry hall and pick you back up."
You let out a snort and your hand all but flew to your mouth.
"What?" Thranduil asked but you shook your head. "Why did you laugh?"
Your hand fell back into your lap, down to Thranduils one. "You don't have to run and then come back only for me to be dry. That's really unnecessary," you told him, biting your lower lip as you felt a smile blooming inside you "Though it is appreciated that you would do that for me."
He mirrored your smile and it's so heartful and warming, the way his lips changed from the frown and lifted up and you could see the smile reaching his eyes, his eyebrows relaxing as well as his jaw.
"Then let us run quickly and hope we are fast enough," Thranduil agreed, leaning towards you and opening your door, then his. He looked at you. "On go?"
You nodded.
"Three."
"Two."
"One."
"Go!"
Both of you jumped out of your seats, slamming the doors shut and then you were off. The rain poured down relentlessly as you and Thranduil dashed through the downpour towards the entrance of the house.
Within seconds you were completely soaked, wet from head to toe and your clothes clung to your body when you stumbled up the steps to the door, Thranduil close behind you.
So close, that he nearly crashed into you, as he took two steps at a time and stopped just a few centimeters from where you leaned heavily against the entrance, trying to wring out some of the water out of the sweater.
His hands landed next to your head with a thump as he stopped himself, the momentum of his halting resulting in his hair following his body, smacking against your face like a lasso. Not with much force but it still had you spluttering to get a few of the strands out of your mouth.
Thranduils face contorted in embarrassment as he realized what had you smacking your lips and huffing out a cough and he threw his long hair back over his shoulder. "Don't grin at me," he groaned while pulling his keys out of his pocket "I will die of humiliation if you ever speak of this in front of Legolas."
"What of?" you teased, "That you nearly ran me over with your tall body or that I got a taste of hair because you can't control that tall body?"
"Neither!" he growled, then yanked his keys out and jammed them into the keyhole. Before turning it, he stopped, locking down at you, flattened between him and the door.
His perfect thick eyebrows raised almost in a hesitant question in themselves. "You won't, right?"
Knowing he had been an – involuntarily – witness to many of the evenings Legolas and you had spent in their living room wearing your cutest pajamas and face masks that had scared him more than once, while you painted each others nails and gossiped like you would get paid for it by the minute, you understood the underlying fear in Thranduils voice.
Chuckling, you raised a hand, and curled your fingers around one of the few strands that clung to his drenched sweater and glistening jaw.
"I won't," you said but the eyebrows rose higher at the light amusement in your voice so you reassured him while brushing the strand behind his ear, following the curve of it to the pointed tip and felt him shuddering under the light touch.
"I promise! Pinky swear that I won't tell Legolas anything that involves your hair or your body," As soon as those words were out of your mouth, you grimaced.
Thranduil did too.
That didn't came out like you had wanted it to.
Even the simple thought of telling Legolas anything that involves anything private with Thranduil... no– you're sure that this would never happen.
You had tried talking to Legolas once more about the matter, checked in with him to ask what he thought of the progress you and Thranduil had been making after the cabrio conversation, and he had simply given you his permission if he wouldn't have to call you "mother"; a compromise you had rushed to agree to.
"Ew," you murmured, teeth being close to chattering as the wind slapped a fresh wave of rain your way "Never mind."
Thranduil nodded quickly. The one hand pressed against the door slid down and to your waist, leading you into the entrance hall after the key had turned and the both of you were stumbling into the safety of the house.
Inside, water dripping on the dark hardwood floors, Thranduils other hand found your waist as well, as he led you through the dark house from behind you.
You didn't bother with turning on the lights, you trusted Thranduil with finding his way through a house he had lived in for his whole life.
It almost ended in stumbling, especially given the trail you left behind, practically begging for a "caution: wet floors" sign. Thranduil was so near that you could feel not only his hands but occasionally his chest too, particularly when rounding corners or ascending stairs.
Somehow though you found yourselves in front of a closed door on the third floor with no injuries except for that ache in your heart that while being number than earlier, seemed to be a constant companion for the time being.
You knew in an instant what was behind said closed door.
It's quite an accomplishment to know what was behind it, looming, if you would have to be specific.
There were a lot of doors in the Oropherion house: the kitchen had three, there was a pantry door, Legolas bedroom door, the guest room doors, the library doors, the door to the cellar, and if you were in the right state – beer pissed if there was no other option but preferably wine tipsy – there was no telling where you would end up.
Well, the chances of you crashing into a storage room when you were aiming for the guest room you always stayed in were pretty high, high enough Legolas – or Thranduil nowadays – would accompany you up and save to the door, making sure you slept in the bed rather than a makeshift situation out of aprons and rags.
How easy it would be to lie and say that only happened once…
But no matter the level of alcohol in your blood and head, you never dared opening this door.
This was the only door you never touched, never even stopped in front of.
Sure, in your mind you were a regular visitor but that was between you and the fantasies coming alive ever since Thranduil had picked you up from that bar the one fateful night!
In reality, notably, a reality where you were much closer to those fantasies now than ever, there had never been an opportunity to come up to the third floor.
There were only three rooms up here.
The study behind the last door at the end of the hallway was where Thranduil would sometimes disappear into. You knew he hoarded some very special editions of books that you two had discussed.
The first door was to the old nursery, now no longer used but for an empty threat Thranduil held in his hands if Legolas dared to ignore the very few rules they had. If the threat was that Legolas would move back into the nursery or if Thranduil would bring out whatever was in there was not the matter, it was enough to bring Legolas back on track if needed.
And of course…
The master bedroom.
Thranduil's bedroom.
The one Thranduil was currently opening before you, his hands on your waist and his breath hot on your neck as he steered you into the room.
Unlike you, he didn't seem to give the situation a second thought, much less a third, fourth and from the way he kissed you on the back of the head and then walked to a door on the right side of the room, he wasn't on the verge of a nervous breakdown either.
You, on the other hand, could only stare at the room unfolding, exchanging the images of it you had drawn in your mind.
The bedroom you had imagined had been clinically tidy, in no more colors than grey, white and maybe he would be crazy and had thrown some black in there, and he would've had few pictures and books but just the barest minimum to have it look like this wasn't a furniture exhibition and not too much that the room could mess with the image of the cold, serious, stern and intimidating lawyer he put out for strangers.
For once, the walls were painted a beautiful dark green with gorgeous panels that graced them from the dark wood floors to the high ceilings, similar to the bay windows that reached the ceilings as well but had a slim bench.
The windows were framed by long rusty colored curtains. These windows would surely flood the room in the sunlight whenever the weather wasn't dark and gloomy like today.
Right now you couldn't even look out, but you knew from the guest room one floor under you, that this room had the perfect view of the garden that stretched behind the house and Thranduil would be able to look out right into the cherry tree.
There was a giant king-sized bed pushed against one of the walls without windows, the sheets midnight blue and most certainly silk, the pillows propped against the wooden headboard, and there were enough of them to make it look like the perfect place to disappear into sweet dreams.
Two nightstands were on either side of the giant bed, both had a simple lamp and some burned-down candles on them, as well as a book and a picture frame that was facing the bed.
On the left side of the bedroom door was another door left ajar, allowing you a small peak into the en suite bathroom, because of course Thranduil had his own private bathroom and you nearly snickered thinking of the many hair and skin products that he would hide in there.
On the window-side of the bed were two floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, filled to overflow with books, many of which you recognized even from afar. There was also a comfortable-looking old wing chair in front of the shelves, a wine-red blanket thrown over its arms.
Your eyes wandered to the right side of the room, to the door leading to the walk-in closet where Thranduil was currently pulling out some clothes.
Next to the door was a small desk with another bookshelf. Papers lay scattered on the surface in front of a dark computer, around them opened books and even more picture frames.
The room shocked you in the best way possible.
Everything looked so… well lived in.
From the pictures on the wall, shelves and every surface that they fit onto in an aesthetical, home-y way, to the phone cable next to the bed (you would tease Thranduil about that later; after all was he the one always bickering with Legolas that he shouldn't sleep with his phone in his bed), and the used cup with a coffee stain on the side next to one of the many books next to the wing chair.
He had some potted plants as well, tall ones in between the windows and smaller ones on shelves and the benches, and they didn't even look close to dying.
Not like the little cactus in your room that you would forget to water and if you remembered you would throw in whatever you were drinking that moment into the pot.
You could even spot a pair of socks next to the bed. Next to the unmade bed.
Thranduil had said on the phone that you'd called him when he was about to retire to sleep but seeing the rustled sheets and a thrown of pajamas right before you made it all so real.
This was Thranduil's bedroom, littered with pieces of his personality and you were standing right in the middle of it…
… dripping on what was probably a very expensive carpet.
With that realization you took a step back, whipping back and forth on your heels, eyes landing on Thranduil.
"Okay, I took the liberty to pull out some clothes for you," Thranduil said and stepped out of the closet, a gray sweater and what looked like black shorts in his hands. "You can change in the bathroom over there, through the door next to the bed." The clothes landed in your hands, you carefully held them away so as to not get them too wet and Thranduils smiled at you. "If you need anything, yell, alright? There should be some towels in there as well and I have a spare toothbrush under the sink."
You just nodded.
Entering the bathroom was another shock, considering it was as big, no definitely bigger, than the whole of your room and you could have sworn even the curved bathtub was bigger than your bed.
Right then, it looked more comfortable as well.
You switched on the lights and instead of one big light, many smaller ones lit up and bathed the room in a somehow quiet light. How light could be described as 'quiet' was beyond explanation for your tired mind, it fitted nonetheless.
Peeling the cold and wet sweater off pulled more on your heartstrings than on the synapses in your brain that would normally scream because of the fabric clinging to your skin most unpleasantly.
You hoped you could wear it again another time. You carefully draped it over the edge of the tub and the dress you had put on followed regardless of how dry it had been thanks to the sweater.
You couldn't get it off fast enough.
Certainly, you were aware that you had it on; you could feel the fabric stretching over your curves.
However, the encounter with it in the large round mirror above the sink was a startling surprise. Before you knew it, your mind was replaying the events of the evening right before your eyes.
Quickly and trying to avoid the breakdown winding its way up your body you scrambled for a towel, drying off the rest of the rainwater on your damp arms and legs, as well as wringing out your hair in an attempt to at least stop the dripping.
Then you all but jumped into the warm clothes Thranduil had given to you. The sweater that now pooled over your hands was long enough to reach your thighs and as inviting as the thought of ditching the pair of shorts was, you felt the slightly cool air nipping your legs.
But not even the soft fabric and nice smell, pines, and laundry detergent, could hold off the impending tears that came up when you brushed your teeth with the promised toothbrush and stared at yourself in the mirror.
You were able to wash off the makeup with some wipes and now there was a red, puffy face that pulled the same grimaces as you, the evidence of your crying as clear as the hurt in your eyes.
After spitting out your toothpaste and washing your face once again, you turned off the lights and stepped back into the bedroom.
It was dark there as well, the room illuminated by the lamps on the bedside tables, their glow casting golden hues on the face of the man standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.
Your lips were automatically drawn upwards at the sight of Thranduil, especially now that he wore the dark blue pajamas. His hair was thrown together in a bun at the top of his head, some strands framing his face perfectly and lining up with his jaw.
His tongue swiped over his lips, cerulean eyes watching you intensely and you didn't miss when they raked over your body and how they lightened up.
"Did you find everything?"
"Yes, thank you."
More silence.
Thranduil took a step towards you, stretching his hand out in a wavy indication to the bed. "Uhm–" he cleared his throat "I don't want to impose but do you want to stay here tonight?"
Your jaw fell open at the invitation which prompted Thranduil's eyes to widen in shock. "You don't have to if you don't want it! I can bring you back downstairs to your room if you prefer some solitude after today–"
"No–"
"I wouldn't be mad, love."
"Thranduil," the second his name fell from your lips he shut his mouth.
"I will never get enough of that," he said quietly and you tilted your head in question. "Before you, my name was such a strange sound on the lips of others. Now.. now I fear that nothing I'll ever hear will sound as beautiful as my name when you say it."
Your face flushed hot at this admission, spoken so honestly that you knew it to be true.
"Well, uhm, Thran– Thranduil, I wouldn't mind… sleeping here, I mean," you rambled on, the thoughts in your brain scrambled like eggs or flown away like the leafs on the cherry tree outside; his words were a strong wind shaking your composure to the point you adverted your eyes in the fear of proclaiming all your love all of the sudden.
What came out your mouth instead, was a long yawn.
The exhaustion of the last two hours (how it had been only two and not more since the party) was rushing to your head now that you were finally in warm and dry clothes and additionally in Thranduils company, your body aching for rest.
Thranduil ultimately smiled, nodding once before he placed his hand on your lower back and turned you around. "Then it would be my absolute pleasure to have you here with me this night and every night you wish. Now, hush hush to bed or else you'll fall asleep right there"
Your cheeks turned another shade of pink and you wished the guest room a swift goodbye, not once feeling bad about abandoning the room next to your best friend if it meant you could sleep next to Thranduil.
That one morning you had awoken on the sofa was the sweetest of memories, especially the feeling that his tall body hugging you close to his chest had awoken.
He was someone that could protect you.
The moment you climbed onto the bed – and yes, climbed; the bed was high enough to have you move with one knee first and then try to gracefully jump the last part – the fabric of the sheets drew you in with their soft and light feel to it.
Thranduil joined you, slipping under the sheet on the right side of the bed and arranging the pillows in his back to his liking.
You observed the action, the routine in the movement of his hands as they pulled out the hair tie that had held his hair back and now removed, let the silver strands fall down his back and sides.
He grabbed his phone after he discarded the tie on the nightstand, the glow of the screen in the dark reflecting in his eyes as he switched to his alarm app and turned off the one single alarm that he had.
You snorted at that, pulling his attention to you.
"Sorry," you quickly said at his raised eyebrow "I didn't want to snoop. It's just funny that you have a single alarm while my phone in the morning rings nearly at a one-minute tact."
Thranduil chuckled and looked at his phone before turning to you. "Oh, I wondered why the hell you were getting calls in the morning when you sleep here. Not even my line in the office is that busy. And you still oversleep with that awful noise blasting your eardrums," he teased and you rolled your eyes at him.
"I do not oversleep!"
"You don't? My love, I can hear those appalling ring tones for what? An hour, two?"
"That's not oversleeping," you retaliated and lifted your nose into the air "I simply set my alarms an hour before I have to wake up so I can get that sweet sensation of being able to fall back asleep again and again," you sighed, reminiscent of the moments your head was being pulled back into the world of dreams
"and again..."
"You can't possibly fall asleep in those five– no two minutes that your phone is quiet before the next alarm screams out," Thranduil looked at you with disbelief.
"Of course I can, I'm a student. I will even accept the five minutes I have when Professor Baggins is making himself a cup of tea"
The sole look on your face told Thranduil you were serious and he shook his head, laughing to himself.
"It's been a long day," Thranduil said and you stifled a yawn. He chuckled, leaning over the small gap between you and breathed a short kiss on your forehead. "Let's sleep, my love," he murmured against your skin there and kissed you again. "You need the rest and I do too. We shall not wake with any alarm, you will sleep as long as you want."
"Uhm, then I would never leave this bed. Ever," you said and grinned, leaning against his lips in an attempt to get another kiss out of it.
He complied, laughing while doing it and the hot air of his breath caressed your face nearly as intimate as his hands on the side of your face.
You smiled but feigned a serious voice, one that could sound threatening if your smile wouldn't have shone through it: "I mean it! I will never ever get out of this bed, you will have to deal with me being here until I've worn out these gorgeous sheets."
Huffing, Thranduil sat back, a grin wide on his face. "Oh, how terrible that sounds! Most unfortunate... for your friends and university. I shall call them right in the morning and tell them Sleeping Beauty has fallen into her slumber and there was nothing I could do against it."
The sheets rustled as you giggled and wiggled down until your head rested comfortably on one of the pillows.
He looked down at you, the grin fell to a dramatic frown as when he reached over and stroked your cheek. "This fate must be so hard on you; staying here with me for all eternity."
You copied the dramatic sigh of his and tilted your head to face the ceiling. "The journey will be hard, but these pillows are soft enough to even it out. Besides, I'm sure there are worse possible outcomes for my future than sleeping here and waiting for a pretty prince to kiss me awake"
Grinning a Cheshire cat-like grin you snuggled deeper into the covers, pulling the sheet up your chest and inhaled the very masculine smell of them.. Thranduils smell.
"Maybe you can send Legolas up here to try"
A low blow, yes, you knew.
But Thranduil simply raised his eyebrow, he was so good at that, you envied him and wondered if he was born with simple talent or if he had worked for the perfection of the timing and the arch, and pushed the hair that had fallen on his chest back behind him.
"I would lock the door before allowing that," his lips curled in amusement.
Looking him up and down you pinched your lips. "Now that you say that, you do have an astonishing resemblance to Mother Gothel," For a moment you pondered "We would only need to dye your hair black, a shame, but– oh look! You even have the same scowl!"
Thranduil did indeed stare you down, cerulean eyes glaring until you saw the tiniest twinkle of mischief not just in his gaze but in the corner of his mouth as well. "I fail to see a resemblance between you and Rapunzel but if you exchange the Adam Sandler look you are wearing right now with a white nightgown I could see you as a slightly more obstinate Berta Manson," He reached over again and poked a long and slender finger into the pout of your cheeks. "And look at that, even the third floor fits!"
You gasped out loud at that, feigning hurt across your features whilst crossing your arms in front of your chest.
But before you could think of anything to retort, a yawn took over for you, breaking the teasing.
Thranduil promptly dropped his act as well, not fighting the besotted smile as he gave you another kiss, this time to the cheek. His hair tickled you when he leaned down and you scrunched your nose.
"As much as I would love to hear what comparisons you could up with," he started and his voice was low, deep, rolling through your entire body in pleasant waves "I believe sleep is in order. Good night my darling, sleep well." He leaned to the side and grabbed the cable hanging there, connected it with his phone, and set it down on the table, turning off the lights while he was at it.
Without making much noise Thranduil settled into the pillows again and his legs brushed yours under the covers.
"Excuse me", he said softly and drew back.
The rain was still heavy against the windows, supported by a low rumbling in the distance and the howling of the wind that shook the trees outside the house.
Nature was loud with everything, from the brewing thunder to the raindrops collecting in a puddle on the window sill in a constant drip drip drip...
The silence inside the room was unbearable loud for you. The rustling of the sheets when you moved even the tiniest bit was as loud in your ears as the roaring ocean waves crashing against the shore, hell, you even thought your swallowing and blinking would make enough noise for Thranduil to hear.
Just as all the lights had gone out, something had settled over the room.
You couldn't put your finger on it, didn't know what it was exactly that was now present but you could feel it in your stomach.
It wasn't awkwardness.
Not like you had sometimes felt it after one night stands when the guy would stay in your room and it would suffocate you to have this person next to you that you really didn't want to have there.
Not like you had felt it the first time you had to crash at Aragorns and he you had fought about where you would sleep and he'd made the argument that you both were adults and could sleep in one bed after twenty minutes of back and forth.
You had kept your distance to him that night and it was like every bit of friendly affection was put on hold for the six hours you had tried not to move and accidentally brush against him.
It wasn't like that now.
It wasn't discomfort either.
It was more pressing, eating away at you and crawling it's way up your body, from your stomach where it fluttered similar to nervousness, biting down in your chest and had you taking a deep breath until you felt it in your throat.
You tried to swallow only to found your mouth full of words that pressed against your teeth and lips, urging to be said out loud into the silence of the room.
You slightly opened your mouth, wettened your lips as the words formed each other to a sentence.
A statement.
A question.
"You never asked what happened tonight."
A whisper.
And then, the rustling of sheets.
Thranduils voice was hesitant at first: "It isn't my place to question it. I figured you would either tell me when you are ready or not at all and I would be fine with it either way." While he talked you could hear and feel him moving, sitting up against the pillows again. "I was worried, god yes and so much, but as soon as I knew that you were safe– safe with me, then I gave you the choice," he talked quietly, concern etched into the words when he seemed to remember the phone call.
The answer wasn't enough to satisfy the restlessness that harbored your body, it seemed to fuel it further and you had to sit up as well to try to calm a few of the nerves. "Yes, but wouldn't you want to know?" you asked in the direction you could make his face out. "I had you driving to the city without telling you anything and you did it. Without question."
"Are you mad at me for doing so?" he asked, the frown audible in his voice.
Your frustration grew and you felt the childish need to kick your legs or cry again. "No!" you said, far too loud and immediately lowered your voice, "No, I'm not mad. I just can't wrap my head around it. If I had written any of my friends they wouldn't have let go until I told them anything and then try to strangle whoever is responsible."
In a second the lights were switched on again and you saw a horrified look on Thranduils face. "Whoever is responsible?" he repeated, the words strangely choked "I– sweetheart I believe you if you tell me you are alright but if there is anyone out there that hurt you I promise you I can help."
You lowered your head as he talked but soft and cold fingers on your chin forced you to look at him again.
His eyes wandered over your face with the same precision of taking everything in and he fixed you with a worried expression. "I care for you, very much so and I know this day was exhausting for you so if you want us to go back to sleep I'll rest but you worry me. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Could you hold me? Please?"
It took a lot for the words to come out, the question not an easy one but you found yourself being tugged over to Thranduil, the man pulling you without as much as a question or hesitation, and struggle.
You landed on his lap in seconds, your knees digging into the pillows at either side of him and you fell into his chest with a deep sigh.
Almost instantly his arms wrapped around you, pulling the sheet up to cover your back and him with it and you rested your head on his shoulder, your arms holding onto him with the same eagerness to hold him close as his.
"There was an argument at the party," you began, whispering the words into his shoulder loud enough for him to hear them.
"My roommate wanted me to meet a guy, the brother of the guy she had been hanging out with; and at first I made a joke about her with these two guys, brothers because she had been joking too but then she told me one would be there for me."
Pausing, you took a deep breath. Your hands had wandered, twirling starlight blonde strands between your fingers. It calmed you, grounded you.
"And I was shocked, really shocked and annoyed because why would she invite a guy for me to make out with as if I didn't have a say in it? Who does that? I have told here before that that's not something I do, especially not now…" your voice trailed off, "Not since you."
"She got angry so fast. In one second she was laughing about making out with two guys and in the next she said these really hurtful things and I stood there, listening to her yelling at me at a party I originally didn't even want to be at and she didn't stop, didn't pause, just throwing every negative thought she had about me on me like our friendship had meant nothing. Well, it wasn't really a friendship."
You were two identical puzzle pieces that had somehow pressed into each other when you had met in your shared apartment in the dorm three weeks before the start of university.
A friendship, much more based on forced harmony and the desire to desperately know someone in this new place than matching preferences.
The rest grew around the shared space, shared experience and somehow you found things you both enjoyed, partying mostly, before you concentrated on the friendship with the boys.
"She was so mean, Thranduil," you mumbled, hands continuing their work on braiding his hair absently minded. "I had to get out of there, it became to much too fast and I couldn't look at anyone anymore. The people there must have heard everything... there were some guys I knew from Saurons class– I don't even want to think about what they think of me now."
Thranduils hand stopped the reassuring movements on your back and they moved up to your neck, guiding your head to look at him.
"I am so very sorry that happened to you," he started and his eyebrows drew together over the cerulean eyes filled with concern.
"Firstly I think however she thought she was helping you with inviting that boy, she should've checked with you and accepted whatever answer you gave her. I don't want to defend her in any way but maybe in her mind that was how she wanted to spend the evening with you." He worded his opinion carefully, ever the lawyer and you could imagine that he had quite a bit of practice with Legolas as well.
"Yes, she did. After I moved into the dorm we went out.. a lot," you abandoned the finished braid and moved to the next few strands of hair, right behind his ear. "And sometimes she would bring a guy home and I did too, once or twice. It didn't made me happy, not really. I think she was jealous because I have Legolas and Gimli and Aragorn and with them I don't need some guy and alcohol to tolerate a party."
"But jealousy isn't a good enough explanation for hurting you, nothing is," Thranduil moved his head, giving you room to pull out some of the long hair from behind him before settling again. "Do you want to tell me what she said?"
You froze, hands still in his hair, thin strands slipping between your fingers like water.
'Do you know how disgusting it is to see you being driven home at night by a man as old as my father? Not to mention it's your best friend's father'
'At first I really believed you were sleeping with Legolas since you were always with him and god I would have understood that'
'Is he paying you for sex? Or what does he want from you of all people?'
It was like you were confronted with them for the first time, your body reacting to remembering the tone, the venom and you tensed up.
Thranduil felt it inevitably as your thighs squeezed around his legs and started to pull in to your chest.
"Hey," he whispered, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours "Breathe for me, darling. Everything is alright, you are here."
"No it's not," you let out a breath as instructed, sitting up on Thranduils lap. "It's not and it's not fair that she can say these things and here I am, stupid enough to believe them.. or not doubt them. Stupid–"
"You are not stupid!" Thranduil said, his voice taking on a stern tone "You are far from it."
"Then how do you explain that it takes a simple 'no one really wants you if you're not fucking them' to have me crying on a curb in the middle of the night?"
You nearly didn't dare to open your eyes again, not when the tears were starting collect in them like the rain drops on the window sill but then Thranduils hands cupped your face fully, hands on your cheek and his thumbs followed the curve of your trembling lips.
"Look at me. Please, look at me," he whispered and you couldn't not follow.
The sight of Thranduil was blurred until you blinked a few times, sniffing to fight the tears from falling.
Thranduil's face was so close to you, close enough to nearly feel the words he was speaking. "You are a wonderful woman, my love, and these thoughts are poisoning your mind. If she said these things she doesn't know you as I do," He paused, holding your gaze and his heartbeat thrummed in your chest.
It beat in the same tact as the rain against the window.
Building up as your hand slid down from his hair to his chest, halting right above his heart.
"You never kiss me," you said in nothing more than an exhaled breath and the beat under your hand stuttered.
His eyes flickered down to where his thumbs where swiping over your mouth, hesitation in them when he looked back at you. "I know, I know. I wanted to, god I wanted to kiss you every time I dropped you off at your dorm and hated myself for letting you go with that look in your eyes that waited for me to do so," his voice trailed off into a sigh, his nose nudging against yours "To be honest with you my love, I was scared of how deep I would fall if I got closer to you, that I would lose myself. Ever since the night you stood in front of that painting, I could feel myself losing control over the rules I had set."
"Rules?" you interrupted, too confused to let that conversation drift away from that specific point.
He sighed again. "Yes, rules. Stupid ones really. When Legolas started talking about you I was intrigued, glad he found friends, yes, but the more time he spend just awing about your wit and how smart you were, helping him through exams, forcing him to study the more curious I got."
Thranduil's hands followed the curve of your cheekbone, continuing to talk as he caressed the skin in gentle movements that kept your head steadied on him.
"And then imagine my surprise when I picked you up that night at the bar–" He kissed the tip of your nose, "and here you were, not only smart, polite and so nervous but beautiful as well. And then you came over more and more, spending the night, reading more books in my library than I could count and you started these discussions at the breakfast table"
Thranduil huffed at the memory, shaking his head minimally.
"Politics, literature, oh even that one morning when you convinced Legolas to not skip class and he went out of the house with his night wear just because he wanted you to stop talking! I knew that if I didn't hold myself back I would move through hell and back if you asked me to. So I thought of these rules."
"Not touching you, not staring at you in awe, not lingering in the living room when you were over–", he counted on his finger of one hand.
"You did a good job at that," you whispered. Thranduil huffed out a laugh, his whole body heaving under you.
He nodded, "Yes, I may have failed sometimes–" You stared at him "Okay often! All that fell away after the moment at the painting. I knew I would never rest peacefully if I didn't try to find out what your true feelings were after you stared up at me."
"That's when things moved a lot faster. Why you were all hot-and-cold. " you concluded, your head feeling all fuzzy after listening to him.
All of it fell into place then, the hesitant touches, the disappearing into his study.
Have you two been suffering for much longer if you could have just talked to each other? But then, the teasing and the tension had been utterly electrifying.
"And, please tell me if I'm wrong, the night you asked me out, to the concert I mean, were you sure then? That this could work?"
Thranduil nodded, nose once again brushing against you. His hands fell down to your waist, which you gratefully leaned into. Your face had grown considerably warmer with his fingers stroking your lips.
"It was either the concert or Netflix and chill," he responded in such a wishful tone that had you laughing out loud.
"That wasn't my proudest moment. I swear you asking me out on a date was unbelievable. I missed the whole lecture from Sauron the next day because all I could think about was if you had been serious"
"Of course I was serious, the evening is all planned out in my mind. Frankly, I had planned it when I got the tickets and still had to ask you if you wanted to go. But I think we are getting of track here," You stared at him, thighs shuffling nervously around. You saw him swallowing, adams apple bobbing in his throat as his eyes darted down to your lips.
"I think," he started with his voice an octave deeper than before "I would very much like to kiss you now– if you'll still have me"
All you could do was nod and then Thranduils lips hovered over yours, his eyes searching your face for a final permission and when you gave it to him in a barely audible "please," his lips finally touched yours.
The first kiss was soft, almost just a brush. It was the catalyst, the lighter for the fire sizzling inside you.
You closed your eyes and let yourself fall. Hands fisted in his shirt you leaned closer, closing the gap between you for another kiss, this one more daring, lips starting to move against each other in a hurry.
Thranduils hands grabbed your waist more forwardly, bunshing the fabric up, fingertips ghosting over your heated skin and you gasped into his mouth at the feeling of the cool and smooth digits.
He used it as an opportunity and licked over your lips with his tongue, crashing every thought you would ever had into a mess.
This was not like other first-kisses, this was not some fumbling around and trying to get into a rhythm.
Thranduil's lips moved with a purpose and directed urgency reflecting the hundreds of thoughts you both shared individually about this moment.
A deep and rumbling hum of appreciation vibrated in his chest and his hands spread all over your hips, holding you close to him as if you would ever think of leaving again.
When you broke apart, gasping for air and chest heaving, you could only stare at him. Thranduil's gaze was wandering over your face, dilated pupils hushing right and back, taking you all in in a way, gaze so pure and open with all of his feelings pouring out of it, that your heart screamed and her bones ached.
It was then and it was right.
There was no more space, no more shadows, just you and him.
"Again"
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Deadly Kiss
Daemon Targaryen x Original Female Character
summary: Daemon Targaryen loved the great things in life, but none was as loved as the Lady Aelnerys.
Prologue
House Malaemor once held power in the Freehold of Old Valyria, its dragonriders and gold made enemies aware of the fate that awaited them should a threat arrise. As gloroius as their motto, and as greedy as their gold, the Malaemor's lost their power after the doom. But that was not the end.
Establishing theirselves in an isle close to Dragonstone, the Malaemor's lived as a sworn house to the Targaryens. In the age of the conquest a daughter was promised, so that in the end the last three valyrian houses would once again reign from the skies. A promise who would only come to fruition later, on the reign of Jaeherys I.
The Lady Jocelyn Baratheon had two daughters with her husband, the late crown prince Aemon Targaryen, Rhaenys and Rhaena. Rhaenys would wed the Lord of Driftmark, Colrys Velaryon, and Rhaena would fulfil her ancestors promise and marry the Lord of Gaahil, Vaenar Malaemor.
The daughters of Jocelyn Baratheon would not be queens, but from their blood dragonriders would be born, a promise would come true and the last blood of old valyria would once again rule from the skies.
Second moon of the 111th year after the conquest
Prove himself better was always easily accomplished for Daemon Targaryen. Weak Viserys without a warrior bone in his body and a dead dragon at his back had nothing on the Prince of the City, claimed as the warrior reborn and rider of the bloody wyrm.
But Viserys was King, and Daemon was not, his brother had the crown he desired, so a decision was taken. He went and conquered a kingdom to himself, a crown of crab embroider by flesh.
But Viserys was still King, and Daemon, the Rogue Prince who liked to conquer surrender his kingdom to his brother.
Conquerors were not meant to be at only one place, and so the rogue prince flew. On his scary wyrm with the color of blood and screech of pain.
A visit to a cousin long overdue was made, and a match from the havens itself awaited.
Prince Daemon Targaryen arrival at the Isle of Gaahil was announced by the laid screech of his winged mount. While the sight of dragons was common around the isle, courtiers and commoners alike found that seeing the wyrm round their heads up in the sky was like waiting for a judgement to be passed.
The Targaryens were always closer to gods than to men.
Awaiting the rogue prince on top of the stairs in the keep of Cyalbelle, the Lord and Lady Malaemor, together with their three children, the ruling family of Gaahil made an imposing sight dressed in indigo and gold.
"Cousin, so lovely of you to receive me here, why, one would think that you even missed me." The Prince said with his signature smirk adorning his face. His silvery tresses shined in the warm light of the sun, and purple eyes were alight with enjoyment.
"My Prince, it is an honor for you to join us. Please, be welcomed to Gaahil." Lady Rhaena's face didn't give away any of her thoughts as she stepped forward. "Let me introduce you to my family, cousin." She indicated to the people who stood in a line behind her.
The only acknowledgment that came from the man was a raised brow and the deepened plastered smirk on his face.
"My Prince, it is an utmost pleasure to have you here." The tall Lord with the deep green orbs said while bowing. "We've all heard of your victory on the Stepstones, allow me to give you my most sincere congratulations. "
"Please Lord Vaenor none of this formality, we are after all family."
"Of course." The Lord said, eyes trailing the Prince as if trying to read him. He then looked at his wife and with a swift nod the attention was turned back on her.
"Cousin, I'm happy to introduce you to my eldest son and heir of Gaahil, Vinarr, and his brother Maelerys." Both men were of lithe building, much like their father, with stern faces and glowing green orbs. Their classic valyrian hair covered their faces when bowing they muttered 'my prince'.
"And of course our daughter, Aelnerys." The Lady introduced the last person on the line.
The prince lost his air.
Daemon Targaryen has traveled through many places in the known world, he has seen many beauties and fucked most of them, but none would come close to that of the lady he looked at.
The trend mark silver hair of the valyrians shined, her moonkissed skin looked soft and perfect to be marked on, her body was that of the maiden herself, but the eyes...oh, the eyes.
One could look in their deeps and get lost, for green battled with indigo, and created the most beautiful thing a man could gaze upon to.
"My prince." A soft courtesy was offered, her head bowed and voice melodious.Daemon offered his hand, who she promptly took and besotted a suave kiss on the fingers.
"My lady."
Their eyes locked.
"The moonkissed lady loved her scarred prince, for him only did her heart soared like it was flying through the sky and her soul burned a blazing fire that nothing in the world could erase."
masterlist
This is my first time writing in english, it is not my first language, so i'm truly sorry if there are mistakes.
#daemon targaryen#daemon targaryen imagine#daemon targaryen x oc#house of the dragon#hotd#daemon targaryen x reader#original character#female character
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Priest!Wally Darling x Fallen angel!Reader
(A small breather from all the requests! This idea happened to spring up on me during the evening so suddenly, haha!) (Also this is quite… er… different from the usual fluffy stories I write… So… warning!) (Don’t worry! These won’t be the main things I write on here! My fics will readily go back to fluffy and cute right after this!)
Inspired by an old tale!
CW/TW: Possessive Behavior, Slight-moderate manipulation?, Darker topic and story, mentions of cult-ish religion, mentions of religion-related topics.
DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.
What Belongs To Me.
It was almost like you had fallen on purpose.
You had descended from the skies with a loud crash, right outside of Wally’s church. When Wally had found you, he had taken you in and decided to take care of you.
He believed you were a blessing from Home.
A gift sent upon his doorstep.
A blessing.
A blessing.
When you had awoken from your slumber, you were weak and agitated. You had fallen from the realm of angels, you didn’t want anything to do with earth, along with the people that ruled it.
Wally was absolutely captivated by you, your beauty and divine presence had him almost addicted. He was enamored and he felt such deep affection for you.
What a divine blessing from Home!
Rejoice! Rejoice!
You were clueless to Wally’s feelings, only seeing him as the kind person who had offered his church for you to stay and recover. You were terribly homesick and missed Eden so much, you wondered if your friends up there were looking for you, wondering what had happened and why you had disappeared.
Not need to worry though…
Wally was with you all the way.
Every step of the way he was right there for you…
You made the mistake of telling him some very interesting information one day while you sat with him on one of the pews.
“Once I go back home… I will forever remember your kindness… And I will tell them all about you.” You looked over at him with a smile, looking truly grateful.
“Oh, please. I was only doing what any good disciple of god would do.” Wally nodded, smiling right back at you. Of course, up to this point you had thought he was talking about the God that you served… Not the more… malicious… being.
“I am sure our Lord will be very pleased with you, Wally.” You chuckled softly.
“(Name)? May I perhaps… Ask you something? I’m just a little curious, is all.” Wally asked you politely, voice calm and serene as always.
“Yes, you may.” You nodded.
“About that halo of yours… What is so special about it? You seem to be taking great care of it.” He pointed at the glowing object above your head.
“You see, Wally. All angels and holy beings of God are given a halo as… Some sort of key to enter Eden… It signifies that you are a being of God and that you are able to enter Eden.” You explained to him.
“… And what happens when you… Don’t… Have your halo?” Wally looked as if he was very interested and very curious.
You thought it was because he wanted to learn more…
He did want to learn more… But for the wrong reasons.
“You are no longer able to reach Eden.” You answered his question solemnly. “Angels who have their halo taken away or broken here, are bound to stay on earth for eternity. We need to fly to be able to reach Eden, and our abilities come from our halo.” You continued to say.
“People can just take your halos away? Just like that?” Wally tilted his head, the shadow in his eyes seemingly increasing. Devious plans formed in his head.
“Only when an angel is vulnerable, can a person steal it… Instances such as an injured angel or a sleeping one, those are moments of vulnerability.”
“Hm… I see… Well it’s good that you’ve stumbled here then… It would have been such a misfortune if you had landed on… the wrong… persons doorstep…” Wally smirked a little, an almost taunting tone to his voice.
You smiled at this, believing in his “good intentions”.
“I am forever grateful… Soon, I will have regained my strength to fly… I will repay your kindness one day.” You bowed a little, truly grateful for him.
Wally’s eyes darkened as he stared at you.
You will be able to… leave…? So soon?
No.
No he can’t allow that.
That is not what Home intended for you.
Home did not want you to leave.
He. Did not want you to leave.
He can not let you leave.
Not when you mean so much to him.
His little angel.
His. Angel.
Leaving?
No.
He would not allow that.
He could not. allow. that.
And so, now the priest stood over your form as you slept so peacefully.
The halo above your head continue to glow even as you slept, casting that divine lighting over your captivating features.
He couldn’t help but smile, fixing the hair on your face.
You belonged here.
You belonged… To With him.
This is what Home wanted for you.
This is what Home intended.
Wally grabbed hold of the halo, staring at your sleeping face.
All he had to do now…
Was take it…
And break it…
Wally started to pull your halo, feeling resistance as he did. He was insistent, continuing to pull even as it stubbornly resisted his pull. The halo started to flicker, the resistance growing weaker and weaker. With one final pull, the halo ripped away from your head.
Wally stared at the halo for a moment, turning it this way and that. It was smooth to the touch and the glow was dull.
He took both ends, staring down at you with a dark glare.
You… stay… here.
CRACK.
He snapped the halo in half like it was candy, the halo dissolving into dust.
You woke up with a gasp, breathing heavily.
There was a stinging pain in your chest and you felt nauseous.
What happened?!
You started to shriek, grabbing your chest in pain. Wally quickly walked over, placing his hands over you. “(Name)?? (Name) what’s wrong!” He feigned worry, trying his best to comfort you.
You yelled out and writhed, it looked like you were burning.
“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here.”
You hurled yourself to the side, dry heaving and spilling out a golden shimmery liquid from your lips. You breathed heavy ragged breaths, looking at Wally with terror in your eyes.
“What… What happened to me…?” Your voice was coarse.
“… Your halo… It’s gone…” Wally looked saddened and horrified.
“No… No… No! NO, NO, NO!”
You screamed, your hands flying to your head, only to feel an empty place where your halo used to be.
You leapt to your feet, running out of the room.
Wally only walked after you, a light smirk to his face.
You can’t leave now…
You were here to stay…
With him..
He watched as you tried to fly, your wings flapping tirelessly.
You would lift into the air just barely, only to flop back down onto the ground.
You were sobbing and crying, lamenting that you would no longer be able to go home.
“(Name)… Dear… Please do calm down…”
Wally masked his smirk with a sigh, approaching your sobbing form.
When you stared at him, he knew now…
That he…
Got what he wanted…
You were truly…
His…
Little angel now…
#welcome home#welcome home fanfic#wally darling#wally x you#wally x reader#surprisingly these are actually my roots haha!#dead dove do not eat#dead dove fic
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Slowly but Also Like All at Once
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7
noah diaz x mirage (boys who are friends aka boyfriends 🧍🏽➕🤖🟰❤️)
warnings: mirage being himself and optimus being unamused
ratchet’s in the building y’all
The towering, decaying walls and partially caved-in ceiling give the chapel an eerie aura— the only source of light coming from the rays of sunlight streaming in through the broken glass of the early twentieth-century structure’s rose window— and Noah’s positive that if his ma were here, she’d be handing out bendiciones every five minutes. But the atmosphere isn’t what’s currently making Noah shift from one leg to the other anxiously.
“You disobeyed a direct order.”
Just as Arcee had predicted, Optimus is not a happy camper.
“Does it count as direct if Rat-trap’s the one who told me I couldn’t leave though?” Mirage drawls, one digit held in the air as if he’s actually making a point.
Noah has to curb the urge to drop his face into the palms of his hands. It’s an easy feat to accomplish seeing as he’s trying really hard to not bring any attention to himself.
The newcomer— who Optimus had introduced as his chief medical officer, Ratchet— reaches out, past his leader’s shoulderpad, to deliver one hard thump to the back of Mirage’s helm with a heavy servo.
Noah flinches minutely— the sound startling him more than anything really— and he finds himself glad for both Arcee and Bumblebee standing at either of his sides. He doesn’t think Ratchet would ever try and hurt him or anything— he’d pretty much been ignoring Noah’s presence since their brief introduction down at the dock— but nevertheless, the comforting presences of the scout and sharpshooter instill within Noah a small sense of security.
Mirage stumbles forward a step from the force of the hit, shaking his helm like the whack’s made him a bit dizzy, before he straightens back up with a pout pulling at the mouth plates that act as his lips.
“Yo!” he cries. “Party foul, man!”
The mech looks up at Optimus and thrusts his servos out.
“Prime, bro, you gonna let him treat me like that?”
Optimus does nothing but stare down at the spy kind of blankly, like he can’t believe he has to deal with this kind of shit day in and day out. It would almost be funny, if it weren’t coming from the infamously solemn bot.
After a moment of silence, Mirage lowers his servos with an offended scoff.
“Oh, it’s gon’ be like that, huh? Alright, I’ll remember that.”
There’s no real animosity behind his words though and Noah gets the feeling that this stuff happens a lot around here; Mirage breaking the rules and Optimus having to deal with it like an exasperated father.
“We will discuss this further at another point in time,” Optimus decides, turning away from the smaller mech. “For now, there are other more important matters that require our attention.” He makes a vague gesture in Bumblebee’s direction.
“Show them, Bee.”
The black and yellow bot steps forward, whirring in a way that makes Noah think he’s excited to show them whatever it is. The mech reaches up to the side of his helm and a moment later a stream of light beams out of the very same spot, projecting an image into the middle of the room.
It’s… wow.
Noah contains the urge to rush forward and gawk like an idiot as the image shows something that, to him, looks like a meteor falling from blue skies and crashing into the face of a strangely vermillion yet still snow-capped mountain. He blinks.
“Where is this?” he questions, before he can stop himself. He inhales sharply and bites down into the corner of his bottom lip.
Way to go, dumbass.
He’s not even supposed to be here. Probably— more like definitely— isn’t supposed to be seeing any of this. He’s only here because of a fluke, because Mirage had snuck out to see him.
He’s not one of them. None of this is any of his business.
Still, the way the shimmery image loops is fascinating and Noah can’t help but be awed by it. Sue him, he’s an electronics nerd and the tech the autobots possess is all kinds of amazing to him. He’d love to find out how the projection works.
Ratchet— who is standing on the other side of the room from him, with Optimus and Mirage— snaps his gaze over at the sound of Noah’s voice and Noah watches as the medic’s optical ridges furrow, like the bot had legitimately forgotten all about his presence.
“The humans call it Pike’s Peak,” Optimus divulges. “It is located in the state of Colorado. At around ‘oh eight hundred hours mountain standard time yesterday, this, as of yet, unidentified object impacted at around thirteen and a half thousand feet.”
Colorado. The Rockies then.
“The United States Army and the Department of Homeland Security were on site quickly but all they found was an empty crater.”
Noah’s eyes widen.
“Meaning whatever it was, it’s long gone,” Arcee realizes, stepping forward and studying the image for a second, before her gaze snaps up to her leader. “Optimus… could it be one of ours?”
“It’s possible,” Optimus acknowledges with a small tilt of his helm.
“But there’s also a chance it could be…” Ratchet trails off, his optics lowering to fix squarely on Noah.
Noah starts, taking a small step back— closer to Bumblebee, who buzzes inquisitively at Noah’s proximity.
“It is alright, Ratchet,” Optimus advises, his gaze sliding over to Noah’s form as well— the large mech’s optics pulsing a bright blue. “Noah is…” The bot trails off for a second, his astute gaze settled firmly on Noah as he seems to think on it.
And Noah honestly feels like he holds his breath in that moment, awaiting his judgement.
“He is one of us.”
Noah’s breath rushes out of him so fast, it catches somewhere between his diaphragm and his throat, and he releases a small squeaking sound.
He’s what now?
Across the room, Mirage beams and stealthily thrusts a servo up into the air before Ratchet shoots him a brusque look, causing the silver and blue bot to snap to attention— servos fisted at both of his sides and chest plates held high— but with an impertinent, yet subtle, roll of his optics.
Noah’s stupid heart skips over a beat again.
He’s sure one day he’ll figure out why Mirage seems to like his companionship so much.
… and figure out where exactly Mirage had heard the word, ‘cariño,’ and decided it was the perfect term to use on Noah— along with the growing list of pet names he’d been dishing out all last night.
Ratchet huffs in response, both to the spy’s antics and their leader’s proclamation.
“It could be a decepticon,” the medic reports cautiously. “Before I crash landed on this planet, I was being hunted by one. I believe he calls himself Barricade. One of Starscream’s underlings.”
Noah frowns and, emboldened by Optimus’ unexpected vote of confidence, steps out from underneath Bumblebee’s shadow.
“What the hell’s a decepticon?” he queries boldly.
“Brutal, merciless warriors,” Arcee informs him, glancing down at him with such a disheartened look that it makes Noah think she’s probably got some painful history with these so called decepticons. “Obsessed with conquering our home planet, Cybertron, and expanding out into the universe. Last I remember, they were under Soundwave’s leadership. Are you saying Starscream’s taken control, Ratchet?”
Optimus lifts a servo again, towards Bumblebee, and the scout reaches up to shut off his projection.
The stream of light flickers out of existence, thrusting the furthest reaches of the chapel’s main area into shadow.
“Unfortunately, I can’t say,” Ratchet professes. “Ironhide and I were in hiding together for quite some time. But he wished to return home and make a stand. Whilst I knew that was a suicide mission. When he failed to return or even check back in, I decided I needed to make another attempt at locating Optimus. But as soon as I stepped out of hiding, Barricade found me. I’ve been running ever since.”
That sounds miserable, in Noah’s opinion. Always running, always hiding. Looking over your shoulder. He can’t imagine a life like that.
“Okay, so we go find out what exactly fell on that mountain,” Mirage pipes up. When all eyes and optics in the room turn to him, he cringes a little and adds on a tiny, “Right?”
Optimus takes a moment to glance around the room, scanning his team.
“I hacked into the communication network the humans are using,” he informs them. “They have received multiple reports of an unusual patrol vehicle in the nearby municipality of Cañon City, approximately 30 miles southwest of Pike’s Peak.”
“A patrol car?” Arcee queries, the tone of her voice hitching. She turns away after a moment, optics fixed on a splintered pew that’s been shoved into a corner, muttering to herself.
Noah thinks he hears her say, ‘It couldn’t be…’ but he could be wrong.
“As much as I hate to agree with the disrespectful little sparkling,” Ratchet gripes. “Mirage is right.”
“Whoa, pump the brakes, you half-clocked burnout—“
Mirage’s sharp objection is cut short by a sudden shrill squeal that comes from Bumblebee— a sound that causes Noah to flinch away from the mech, both hands flying up to cover his ears. The noise is quickly followed up by Ratchet attempting to once more reach past Optimus, servos clawing the air in Mirage’s direction.
“Enough!” Optimus booms, lifting his own servos to put distance between himself and both bots at either of his sides. “We do not have time for these infantile games. You are soldiers and I expect you to behave accordingly. Am I understood?”
Mirage, for his part, exhales softly and hangs his head shamefully, digits fidgeting at his sides.
Ratchet huffs and turns away, arms crossing over his blue and white chest plates as he grumbles beneath his breath.
Noah can’t help but feel a little bad for Optimus in that moment. It’s clear the mech could seriously do with a nice long vacation on a beach somewhere.
“Wheeljack is already inbound,” Optimus discloses with a suffering sigh. “We depart tomorrow morning at ‘oh five hundred hours sharp. Destination, Cañon City, Colorado.”
At this revelation, Noah finds his feet suddenly stumbling forward— like a magnet is attracting him— carrying him across the room, towards Mirage.
Mirage seems to be just as affected by the metaphorical magnet though, because he shoots forward as well, meeting Noah halfway whilst looking to Optimus with a look on his face that’s kind of indiscernible to Noah.
Optimus meets the shorter mech’s stare head-on.
Noah impulsively reaches out once he and the blue and silver bot are within touching distance and places a hand against Mirage’s thigh guard, watching as Optimus’ stare drops from his spy to Noah.
“Noah, having you along on this mission would be considerably beneficial,” Optimus establishes with an assured nod. “As I have said, you are now one of us. And it is our— my hope that you will agree to join us and continue to aid us in our plight.”
Noah’s brows shoot skyward, his eyes widening up at the bot.
“Are you for real?” he inquires abruptly, not even pausing to figure out how he feels about what’s being asked of him.
“Yes, I am… for real.”
Oh.
“Aw, yeah!” Mirage crows at his side. “Road trip!”
#noah x mirage#norage#noah diaz#mirage#mirage rotb#transformers rise of the beasts#transformers rotb#mirage x noah
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