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minhosimthings · 1 day

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Lucifer|| Prolouge

Synopsis: After you found your husband cheating on you, you found a different kind of comfort in his devilishly handsome colleagues.

Pairings: detective 02z × fem!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive, minors please do not interact, catcalling, mention of alcohol, reader is cheated on by Heeseung, cheating (which I do not condone in real life)

A/N: Prologue for my 02z short series everyone! I abandoned everything else after Enha dropped Memorabilia just to write this BECAUSE I CAN. I will try to put out the oneshots as early as possible and I hope all of you will enjoy it! Au revoir!

Taglist: Open

Series Masterlist

Crystalline tears filled your eyes as you walked under the dark azure sky. Your feet ached, your heart thumped hard against its prison and your mind spun and yet you kept walking. Walking somewhere, you didn't even bother to understand.

Adjusting your skirt, and moving your scarf down to reveal your bloodied lips from having bitten them too much, you tried to recall what had happened today that made you so miserable. Was it the broken coffee machine, or was it the recent murders in the newspaper? Or was it a person? Perhaps it was the latter.

Heeseung.

You loved Lee Heeseung. With all of your soul and all of your heart you loved him all the way through the bright Mays and the chilly Decembers. You loved him in a way only the setting sun could love the ocean, the way its rays danced with the water so gracefully.

And yet you caught him in your own bedroom, strong sinews of muscles handling another girl's lusty bones, as she merged her body with someone you thought belonged to you.

His apologies went deaf to your ears, you spent an hour or so packing up all your things and driving out the house without a second thought. You didn't even realise how much time you spent screaming your head off at him, trying hard to stop your tears from escaping their barrier as you shoved each and every gift he ever gave you into his arms and asked him to burn them to the ground. And yet you didn't know how to cope without them either.

Your mother never taught you how to handle grief without alcohol and your father's blood always seeped through your mouth in words of fire and fury everytime something went wrong. It was no wonder you had found comfort in Heeseung, a man who could handle all of your pain and all of your anger.

You had trusted him with your life, marrying him happily to escape your childhood home and entrusting in him your most beloved secrets, your love and dedication and your virginity as well. You thought that had been enough, staying home whilst Heeseung worked his ass off at the police station to provide you with everything you could ask for and more.

And when he came home, you were his toy, a plaything for him to release his stress on and yet you didn't budge. Why should you? When you were recieving all the pleasure you could ever want and giving all the pleasure back to your husband. Nevertheless, you stared at your empty ring finger now, hands shivering in the cold as you scolded yourself on not wearing mittens. Heeseung used to scold you too.

Lee Heeseung. What would you have done to absolutely irradicate Lee Heeseung?

You had parked your car at the nearby park where you knew it'd be safe, and had gone for a walk. Thoughts rushed to your mind. You had known about Heeseung's affair for some time now, but you wanted to catch him in the act, to prove to the world, to yourself, that your melancholic delusion could be justified. Here you were now, dragging your feet across the cemented pavement, knowing there's only one other place you could go to. The darkness was a bad place for a woman to be, at 10 pm but you didn't give a single fuck about anything as your prosaic body tried to get itself up. You swore you could have heard voices behind you.

"Hey, hey you!" You heard a voice shout behind you, "What's a pretty lady doin' in a place like this?"

You gulped in fear as your feet sped up. Stupid stupid girl, you thought to yourself, should have stayed in the goddamned car!

"Hey you ignorin' me?" The voice shouted again, and you could hear the gruff footsteps which followed you, getting closer by the moment, "Stop fucking runnin' away from me!"

Your heart pumped blood faster as you picked up your skirt and ran, at the fastest speed you could. This wouldn't have happened if Heeseung was here!, you thought, and though a part of your brain tried to scold you about still thinking about him, at the moment all you were focused on was getting somewhere safe.

The man's drunken voice could still be hear by your ears, and his harsh footsteps told you he was running behind you, chasing you as if you were a wild mongrel to be caught and leashed.

Only one place. Only one place you could go now.

Turning swift on your feet, you ran down the wide lane filled with shops on one side and the empty road on the other, being careful not to crash into the glowing streetlights, as your destination came into your visage.

The police station. Where you knew, your last hope would be standing.

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

"Got the Samson case solved yet?" Sunghoon yawned and stretched his limbs above his head, like a prosaic cat, "Man I could do with a drink right now."

"It's 10 pm." Jake checked his pocketwatch, running his hand through his hair as he always did, "What bar is going to be open at this time?"

"Hey, should we steal Jay's stash?" Sunghoon glanced, with mischievous eyes at Jake, who mirrored an equally mischief filled smile back.

"Don't even think about touching my bourbon." A dark haired man, with eyes as black as kohl, walked in, equally black gloves decorating his hands, "Unless you want to be stuck on traffic duty all week."

"Who pissed in your cereal today?" Sunghoon snickered, leaning back in his chair, a crack of his bone could be heard as he lazily stretched, "Let me guess, Heeseung?"

"Is it about his wife again?" Jake groaned, hair tangled in his hand again, "Jay, just leave it man, they'll sort it out."

"Sort it out?" Jay looked at the long haired man with a quizzical look, "What kind of a man cheats on a beautiful woman and brags about it?"

"Most of them." Sunghoon broke out into his drawer, hands reaching for a eloquent wooden pipe, which he lit and transferred to his mouth, sighing out the smoke as he relaxed into his chair, "You're too righteous to understand that, Jongsoeng."

Jay wrinkled his nose, as Sunghoon blew a puff of cigarette smoke into the air. Settling into his own chair, Jay's eyes flickered towards Heeseung's desk, where files lay messily scattered. A solitary photo frame brightened up the lonely atmosphere of the desk. Lee Y/N, Jay thought, his wife, not yours.

"Jay, come on, stop sulking over your little crush," Jake scoffed, his hands busy with a sleek, brownish-yellow bottle in his hand, "Just have a drink and get your mind off it."

"First of all, how did you get into my bourbon cabinet." Jay snatched the glass from Jake's hand, and toyed with it protectively, "Second of all, I can't just get my mind of it. I mean, come on," He extended his glass out to Jake who poured the elysian liquid into Jay's glass, "Who the fuck would have the gall to cheat on such a pretty woman who loves him to bits?"

"Look, you like her right? And don't say no, we all know it Jongsoeng." Sunghoon leaned forward in his chair, "So when she finds out about everything, just offer to take her home and, you know, let her sob into your arms and then take her into your bedroom and-"

"Since when did you start reading romance?" Jake chuckled, pressing a glass of bourbon to his lips.

"Since lover boy here started crushing on..what's her name? Y/N wasn't it?" Sunghoon laughed, taking another piquant drag of his pipe, "I get it, she is really pretty."

'Really pretty' was one way to describe you, Jay thought, smiling into his glass of bourbon. Every inch of you called out to him, beckoned him closer and closer to your poisonous radius. It wasn't that he didn't try to fight it, lusting after another's wife, but it was that he found that hidden sadness in your eyes heartbreaking everytime he looked into them.

"Want to head home, fellas?" Jake briskly sat up straight in his chair, "Or are either of you going to stop at a brothel?"

"Don't have time for that." Sunghoon chuckled darkly, putting out his pipe, "Plus I've got a-"

Bang!

The door of the quite airy police station burst open with a loud bang, and it seemed as if a hurricane in the guise of a panicked woman had swept in, alarming the three detectives. The sudden action caused them to act on their reflexes, pulling out their revolvers faster than their eyes could comprehend the sight in fron them. Jake's eyes seemed to work the quickest.

"Ma'am? Are you alright?" Jake called out, signalling the other two to lower their weapons. He stepped forward and turned a switch on, which caused the entire room to light up in bright light, contrasting to the soft yellow light that earlier shone from the desk lamps.

Jay's senses had seemed to ding up after the initial shock of the entire thing, as he walked forward with careful steps towards you, as Jake and Sunghoon whispered to each other, making out why you were here. Your eyes took a moment to register the man in front of you.

Jay Park, you thought, a man who was perfection incarnated.

"Y/N," Jay spoke softly, careful not to frighten you, "What are you doing here? Are you alright?" He looked you up and down to check for any disfigurements.

"I-" you spoke, your throat tightening by the moment, "Heeseung—he" you couldn't speak any more as his name uttered out your mouth. Bursting into tears, you buried your face in your hands as you felt your cheeks burn up with embarrassment. You really weren't crying in front of your (ex) husband's colleagues, men who you barely knew, apart from the usual condolences.

You felt warm, strong muscles pull you into their hold. It felt like a cozy cocoon, scented with the fragrance of pine and paper.

"Calm down, doll," Jay whispered into your ear, his hot breath fanning your neck, "take a breath for me."

Jay coached you through breathing in and out, which restored some of your consciousness. You had nearly been on the verge of fainting, with how much you had ran.

"Can I—May I sit down for a moment?" You asked, weary of the other two men's eyes watching you, "Please."

"Of course." Jay said, supporting your figure with his sinews as he led you over to his cubicle. You could see the other two hastily clearing out messy piles of papers. The shorter one, you assumed was Jake, from his drooped posture and lion-like hair. The taller one then, had to be Sunghoon, with porcelain skin and an ice cold gaze.

"Did-did you walk all the way from your house?" Jake questioned, offering you a seat, which you gratefully collapsed into.

"No, just the park nearby." You shot him a small smile through your croaky voice, which he returned, "My car's still parked there though. I drove from" you stopped in your words uncertain to say his name, "-from Heeseung's house."

You felt the tension in the room as you said those words. Heeseung's house, you thought, it had been home once. You felt Jay shift his position in the chair next to you, and Sunghoon transfer his weight to one foot, whilst leaning on the desk.

"If you want us to go beat him up, we'll gladly do it." Sunghoon offered, making you chuckle and shake your head.

"No it's fine, I mean she wasn't that pretty anyway, he's bound to lose interest in her some day or the other." You smiled, to no one but yourself. Humour had never been your strong suit.

"Aww man I really wanted to beat him up." Sunghoon feigned defeat, "Asshole deserves it for how much paperwork he gave me."

"That's the only reason you want to beat him up?" You raised a brow at the light skinned man, who raised one back.

"And for betraying a pretty lady of course." He winked at you, making you internally roll your eyes.

"Would-would you like some bourbon?" Jake awkwardly offered you a glass. You could see the embarrassment in his eyes the moment he asked the question, "Or water if you want-"

"I'll take the bourbon." You grabbed the glass from Jake, who, with his shocked eyes poured you a glass, which you downed immediately without flinching in front of the three startled detectives, "Can I have another?"

"Can we have some too?" Sunghoon smirked at you, grabbing his own glass and beckoning Jake to pour him a shot. Jay, admitting defeat, had grabbed a glass too, filled with the bubbly alcohol.

"Well," Sunghoon raised his glass in a toast, "to Heeseung hopefully getting bored of the other woman."

"Peculiar toast, Detective Park." You laughed, "I like it."

The moments that followed still felt like a fever dream to you. You had sat in a building, alone with three handsome men, talking down right shit about your husband, whilst drinking more bourbon than you ever had and although you had already defeated Jake in drinking (almost) half a pint, you still wanted more. This definetly was not on your itinerary for the evening, but did you care at this point? Absolutely not.

"Ugh fuck." You swore under your breath. You probably shouldn't have drank that much, but in all honestly, it would have helped to relieve some of the painful memories of the night.

"Woah steady there." Jay looked at you cautiously as you stirred in your chair. Jake was on the verge of passing out, having even taking his glasses off, while Sunghoon and Jay, who hadn't drank as much, looked as calm as the winds.

"You know what?" You started, not knowing the words coming out of your drunken mouth anymore, "Fuck Lee Heeseung, fuck that man." A sudden maniacal giggle from your mouth seemed to have amused Sunghoon.

"Fuck in what terms, Mrs Lee?" He asked, trying to hide his cunning smirk, whilst ignoring Jay's warning glares.

"Mrs Lee?" You questioned, feeling your senses come back, though you were still tipsy, "Who's Mrs Lee? Not me, no sir-ee." You laughed, "If I had the chance to chop off that asshole's dick right now, I would."

"But you wouldn't allow us to beat him up? Strange." Sunghoon whistled out in his usual cocky tone.

"It's getting late." Jay checked the grand clock in the corner of the room, his eyes wavered over the dried tears on your face, it was alarming to him how much a mere glass of bourbon had managed to get you giggling like a cuckoo, "Y/N I can drop you-"

"I'd rather fuck all of you in one night rather than see that idiot's face again." You chuckled again, this time, saying the sentence with full seriousness. Did you really mean it?, perhaps not, as you would have thought later on. But were you up for having sex with three extremely attractive men who happened to be the best friends of your ex-husband? That, was a definite yes.

"Oh really?" Sunghoon placed his forearms on the desk in front of him, leaning in closer to your face. Jay's hand clutched harder against the edge of the desk. "And what if I say yes to that proposal?"

"What are you implying, Detective Park?" You looked into his dark, devilish eyes, "That you'd have sex with someone pathetic enough to get cheated on?"

"Don't say that, you're not pathetic." Jay's eyes softened as he looked at you, but you merely scoffed, turning your face instead to look at Sunghoon, who was evidently smirking. You caught Jake's widened eyes from the corner of your eye, listening intently.

"How about this-" Sunghoon started, folding his arms, "You get a night of good sex, I get a night of good sex, you and I both get to rub that in Heeseung's face, and then we have breakfast in France."

"Are you married Detective Park?" You quizzed him with an amused face, his offer seemed at the very least, interesting to you.

"Not yet, no. I'm still young aren't I?", Sunghoon's mouth stretched like a cat's into a lazy smile, "Why do you ask? Are you....perhaps intrigued by my offer?"

There was something ironic about that sentence "I'm still young" that struck a chord within you, you were the same age as him and yet you were sitting there talking about your husband.

"Intrigued is one way to put it." You smiled back, hoping you looked anything like a vixen, matching the bastardous fox like energy of Sunghoon's, "But don't you think it's greedy of you, Detective Park? To want me all to yourself?"

"And what do you mean by that, Miss Y/N?" Jake smiled in his boyish manner, "Is Sunghoon here not enough for you?"

"I'm just saying." You held up your hands in mock defence, "wouldn't you both like to get a taste too?"

You glanced at Jay in the corner, who you had expected to be shaking his head in disapproval. But to your utter surprise, he had one of his gloves hands stroking his chin as if in deep thought. His eyes were dark even in the fluorescent light of the room, deep pools of cataclysmic waters floating around in his pupils. He looked vaguely interested.

"So just to recap," Jake started, clearing his throat, such that his Adam's apple was clearly visible, "You want us to bed you, so as to make your ex husband, our colleague and friend, someone's whose wife we definetly should not be sleeping with, jealous?"

"That's the blueprint." You said in a sweet honeyed voice, "How exactly you make him know that I'm not his anymore, you figure that out. If I even so as look at that man's face again, I will jump off a cliff."

"But the question is-" you put on a proud smile, eyes darting from one man to the next, "Who's going first?"

"Shouldn't you decide that sweetheart?" Jay's deep voice came like a rumble through the ground during an earthquake, slightly startling you. He hadn't said anything in the past few minutes, his sudden break of silence alarmed you.

"Alright then." You chuckled, not daring to meet Jay's eyes, you knew you'd melt as soon as you saw them, "How about the person who suggested this?" You turned your face towards a smirking Sunghoon, with his head held high like a peacock's, "Detective Park?"

"Shall I go with the lady's word boys?" Sunghoon asked Jake, who nodded his head, taking his glasses off the desk and outting them on again. The effect it had in him was quite handsome, according to you.

"Should we make a pact then?" Jake asked cheekily, glancing around for a piece of paper, finally picking one up from underneath the mountain of files lying on the wisened wood. Putting it down on the paper, he scribbled something down quickly, showing it off proudly to the others. You let out a laugh when you saw what he wrote.

"'The make Heeseung jealous organisation'?" You laughed, "I can't tell if you're serious or not."

"I'm dead serious." Jake looked at you with glossy eyes, he always was a funny one, you recalled, "Come on everyone, I need signatures."

He's serious about this, you thought, amused at Jake's comedic demeanor. You swiftly pressed the black ink to the paper, leaving off a flashy signature to decorate it. Jay signed off last, with an impeccable font.

Words couldn't have described that very evening. No sentence that could come out of your mouth could have ever even begun to explain to a complete stranger about how you had ended up in Sunghoon's car, driving to his house in silence. Shrugging off the moral doubts in the corner of your brain, you stared out the window into a dewy night.

Relax, you thought to yourself, there wasn't anything wrong with what you were doing.

Was there?

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vivelegalite · 24 hours

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dear dead boy detective (especially paynland) enjoyers: have you yet heard of the biggest gift bestowed upon the fandom so far, aka jayden's charles playlist? the one he mentioned in interviews? well, he dropped it on twitter at 19th of may. and man, do i have stuff to say about it.

there's a lot of 80's bangers, for sure, great to get into the mood and character, but some of the choices...

i'm gonna focus on a few of my favourites, songs that made me go insane when i saw them. honorable mentions: - category 1 (so devoted the lines blur): ain't no mountain high enough by marvin gaye and tammi terrell, there is a light that never goes out by the smiths, inkpot gods by the amazing devil - category 2 (family life): family line and summer child by conan gray, seventeen going under by sam fender, matilda by harry styles, father by the front bottoms - category 3 (being queer in the 80s): smalltown boy by bronski beat, boys don't cry by the cure - category 4 (there's no heterosexual explanation for this one): good luck, babe! by chappel roan, yellow by coldplay, fight or flight by conan gray (is this about monty? the cat king? i need answers!), the prophecy by taylor swift, arms tonite by mother mother, sweet by cigarettes after sex, head over heels by tears for fears

this list is by no means complete or comprehensive!

and now, the songs that made me go the craziest: (they're predominantly in charles' pov as it's his playlist)

found heaven by conan gray

the only reason this song made it into the list and not the honorable mentions instead of smalltown boy is that it makes almost the same point, just so much more explicitly. i don't think i have to say much about it, it's a story of a young person griping with their queerness, being forced to leave home, a common theme of the playlist. "you're in love, you found heaven" when he chose edwin over his own afterlife, heavily implied to be heaven, and built his heaven with him on the mortal plane? ouch! (and we see this same notion repeated in another bop from the playlist, heaven is a place on earth by belinda carlisle).

2. like real people do by hozier

"i miss kissing" charles rowland, 202X romantic meaning aside, the verses show a sort of a common understanding the boys have around the manner of their deaths and their lives before it. we already know from the show they don't really talk about it, with edwin not knowing about the severity of the abuse charles suffered. it feels like one of them saying "let the past be past, we're together now, yeah?". but also, jayden: can there ever be a platonic explanation for this? ghosts can't touch, can't feel, so they wish they could just kiss like "real" (alive?) people do?

3. flaws by bastille

not the most romantic song, but i absolutely love how well it fits their dynamic. despite his edwardian brand of repression, edwin truly is the one that's more open about his feelings (recognising of course that in this case, the bar is so low it's in hell. haha, get it). edwin has worn his flaws upon his sleeve, and charles has held them buried - eg. bottling up all of his anger and resentment towards his family and his own death. the song presents a very sweet outlook, in which their flaws are brought up to the surface (for example, charles' outburst against the night nurse in episode 4), but they learn to accept them as they are, an extension of themselves.

4. a pearl by mitski

you know it's gonna get intense if there's a mitski song in the mix.

the song is about a person who finds love in their partner, someone who treats them way better than they've ever been treated - and yet they cannot bring themselves to reciprocate the affection ("it's not that i don't want you, sorry i can't take your touch") despite reciprocating the feelings themselves because of the trauma. charles is known to bottle things up ("you're growing tired of me and all the things i don't talk about"). the person in the song recognises the love the other person holds for them ("you love me so hard and i still can't sleep"), which reminds me of charles' response to edwin's confession. not a "no", but a "maybe, as time passes".

5. fair by the amazing devil

this one made me genuinely gasp when i first delved into the lyrics. it's simply so sweet, such a genuine and domestic portrayal of love. at first i thought it was way too open about being a love song (normal text instead of the subtext i'd be used to) for jayden to choose it with edwin in mind, but... there's no one else it can really be about. it's far too domestic, too "established" to refer to crystal. refers to a relationship that's laster for a longer while.

the narrator in the first verse is a person deeply in love with the other person, someone who loves to make his lover laugh and simply drinks in their presence. the "he" in the song i believe is charles, while the "she" refers to edwin. edwin promises to fight off anyone - or any feelings pulling charles down (we can see this in the first episode: "you ever think... what if death did catch us? she'd force us to go to the afterlife and split up" "i will make sure this never happens."). charles feels left behind by the world (seeing as he clings to crystal at first, refering to her as "someone their age who's still alive") and believes edwin to be so much stronger than he's ever been. i'm not going to break down the song verse by verse, but if you read it yourself while subbing out "he" for charles and "she" for edwin you'll see just how sweet (and... strangely very in character?) the song is.

6. work song by hozier

if the previous song made me gasp when i saw the lyrics, this one made me go "NO WAY" out loud when i saw the title. the first one verse is just pure toothrotting sweetness, but the chorus is what i want to draw attention to:

when my time comes around lay me gently in the cold, dark earth no grave can hold my body down i'll crawl home to her

HELLO? charles, who keeps escaping death and afterlife to be able to stay with edwin? charles, as he literally takes his last breath with edwin right there, choosing to be by his side rather than move on? charles, who keeps choosing him despite night nurse's promises and threats? charles, who literally crawled through hell for him?

verse 2, to me, can be interpreted as referring to when charles died. edwin found him at his worst, and he "woke" up with his presence comforting him. he was shivering due to hypothermia and his injuries. edwin didn't ask him about what happened or pushed him, he simply listened. the lines "i didn't care much how long i lived, but I swear, i thought i dreamed her" are pretty self explanatory.

in verse 3 we still see the same attitude of "damn the afterlife, at least we have each other" as charles portrays througout the series. they're free, and heaven and hell are simply words to him.

7. orpheus by vincent lima

i literally have no words for this one. it fits too well. if you want commentary for this one, just... i don't know, rewatch the staircase scene.

8. francesca by hozier

(cracks knuckles) this is the big one. the album francesca is from, unreal unearth, is based on dante alighieri's divine comedy, a fourteenth century poem about a man venturing into hell, purgatory and eventually heaven. the eponymous francesca is one francesca di rimini, a woman who was politically married off to a man older than her, called giovanni malatesta. francesca didn't love him, and eventually fell deep in love with giovanni's younger brother, paolo. the two carried on with the affair for years, before being murdered by giovanni upon his finding out. francesca and paolo are mentioned in canto v of the first book, inferno, as two souls damned in the second circle of hell, lust. their punishment is to be permanently locked in a hurricane, swept away by the winds the moment they manage to get close enough to touch one another.

as opposed to their portrayal in the poem, the song is from the perspective of paolo, explaining that no matter the punishment, he wouldn't change anything about his life because he got to know, and love, francesca.

the first verse brings to mind the scenes in hell, especially on the staircase ("do you think I'd give up? that this might've shook the love from me? or that I was on the brink? how could you think, darlin', i'd scare so easily?" as an echo of charles' "sorry. no version of this where i didn't come get you"). "my life was a storm since i was born, how could i fear any hurricane?" could relate to charles' tumultuous family life, an assurance that nothing he has to deal with while by edwin's side will faze him given the things he's lived through. no, despite everything he's suffered through, charles wouldn't do anything differently - because his (admittedly shitty) life led him to edwin ("i'd tell them, put me back in"). we already know charles would choose him over heaven, willingly sacrificing his own afterlife to stay with a boy he's known for hours, someone kind enough to keep him company as he drew his final breath. all of it - his father's abuse, his schoolmates' bigotry, the pain of his own death, as well as everything he's gone through since - he'd do it all again, for edwin.

"for all that was said of where we'd end up at the end of it" could be taken as an allusion to the fate the boys would meet at "at the end of it", when they're finally caught by death and separated, or as more of a general "if you sin, you will go to hell when you die" (up to you to decide what the sin itself would be - an interpretation that would work with other songs on the playlist is that one such sin would be same sex attraction). then their hearts ceased, they never knew "peace", nor did they want to find it in death. their deaths were too soon, them being ripped away from life, but even though it would break his heart: charles would ask to do it all again.

the outro, i think, beautifully pulls it all together: heaven is not fit to house a love like theirs.

to wrap it all up:

jayden, what were you cooking in there? what do you know??

#please interact w me please please please i need dbd moots <3 #dbda #dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #paynland #payneland #painland #paineland #chedwin #charles rowland #edwin paine #edwin payne #dead boy detectives agency #dead boy detectives analysis #aough jayden your mind #my art #<- my umbrella trashcan tag

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plussizefantasia · 3 days

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Don't Cry Over Spilled Lemonade

Anthony Bridgerton x f!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: None that I can think of, this is kinda angsty tho

A/N: Surprise post IG I wrote this in my notes app because I couldn't sleep so if there are spelling or grammar issues I'm sorry. let me know if you want a part two because I wouldn't mind continuing this.

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings. You had become a close family friend ever since you defended Daphne against some creep at her first-ever ball out in society, it was your second season and you had taken it upon yourself to keep an eye on the diamond, looking out for her quietly in the background.

You weren’t going to intervene at all, just offer her some advice woman to woman if the need arose but when you saw Baron Taylor grab the redhead by the wrist you couldn’t hold back.

Anthony himself was only seconds away from coming to his sister's aid when you ‘accidently’ tripped into the man spilling your glass of lemonade down the front of his vest.

“Perhaps my Lord if we kept our hands to ourselves certain… interventions might’ve not had to happen. Don’t you think?” When Anthony had seen your raised eyebrow and defensive posture all aimed at the scumbag who dared lay a hand on his baby sister he couldn’t help but fall a little bit in love right then and there. Not that he’d ever admit it to himself or anyone else for that matter.

A day later Daphne had invited you to tea at their family house in order to thank you for the rescue and potentially make a new friend and ally within the marriage mart.

Ever since that day, you’d been a regular in his home, but you were never there for him as much as he’d have liked you to be. No, you were always there for one of his siblings. You were there to talk with Daphne, first about her counting of the duke and then slowly transitioning into how she felt about being a married woman and then a mother. He could also find you sketching in silence next to Benedict, the two of you after attending to draw the same scene and then critiquing each other's work when you were done. You would trade books and ideas with Eloise, listen to Fran play the piano while working on your embroidery, and the scenes which would warm his heart the most, you’d come around to chase after Greg and Hyancith playing with them in the gardens and keeping a watchful eye to make sure they stayed safe.

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings, and he loathed how much of a distance there seemed to be between the two of you.

You were cold to the Viscount, you had been since the evening you came to Daphne’s rescue, he had attempted to give you his thanks and you had simply excused yourself, “My apologies my Lord but I seem to be down a glass of lemonade presently and I find myself to be quite parched, excuse me.” Your tone was cold and Anthony spent the rest of that night and the next two years trying to figure out what he possibly couldn’t done to make you so icy towards him.

“I do not understand it Ben, she is so kind and lovely to the rest of you but is like a stone wall when it comes to me, what could I be missing?”

“Perhaps she just doesn’t like you brother have you ever thought of that?” Benedict was too preoccupied with this still life to deal with his older brothers pining at the moment.

“That is not possible, I’ve done nothing but be the perfect gentleman to her.”

“Anthony I have no idea why dear Y/N does not like you but what exactly will you whining in my studio do about that?”

“I resent that. I am not whining I am simply asking my dearest brother for his advice on a matter I care very much about. I thought that was what brothers were for.”

“You want my advice, Anthony? Think. Think long and hard about what you want and how you’ll get it because Y/N has no patience for wishy-washy men.”

“That is horrible advice, Ben.”

“When then perhaps you can find better advice from your other brothers. Which will it be Anthony, the one who has been blindly in love with his best friend for years, or the ten-year-old?”

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know. Now leave, that storm cloud above your head is casting shadows on my fruit.” Ben pointed his paintbrush at the bowl of fruit balanced atop a stool. Anthony huffed and knowing that it would bother his brother, he grabbed the apple off the top of the pile and took a bite of it as he strode out of the room

Ben had told him to think, but Anthony didn’t know what to think about. He knew that he craved your attention. He knew that he enjoyed seeing you around his house, interacting with the people whom he loves. He enjoyed hearing your witty comebacks and the way that even if you were not doing anything in particular you still fill the space you’re in.

He wanted her in his life, and if he was being completely honest with himself he wanted more than that.

It’s during his musing that he runs into her in the hallway, you have a book clutched within your hand, and your head is held high. You don’t stop your stride even though he knows that you saw him. He bites his lip and tampers down a smirk. Add another thing to that list of things he likes about you, you have fire, he just wished that it wasn’t always aimed at him.

“Lady, L/N which one of my dear siblings are you spending your day with today?” He attempts to match his pace with yours catching up to you so that the two of you walk shoulder and shoulder.

“Actually, Lord Bridgerton, I was having tea with your mother this afternoon she invited me over so we could discuss what to do about Frannie’s debut next season.”

This was not something that normal family friends do, you know that and he knows that. His sibling’s entrances into society are a matter which the viscountess must handle, something his mother has had to continue to do because of his lack of a wife.

“That was very kind of you to help her with.”

“Well, she doesn’t have anyone else to help her.” Your words cut him down, not for the first time.

“Lady L/N may I be frank?”

“It is your home, you may do as you please.” You turn to face him, your face a mask of indifference.

“What have I done to cross you, for the longest time I have known you you have been cold to me and I do not understand why?”

“I had figured that you did not remember, either that or you had purposely forgone trying to speak with me about it.”

“About what?”

“Our first meeting My Lord.”

“I remember our first meeting very clearly, it is one of my fondest memories seeing you stand up for Daphne and ruin Lord Taylor’s vest.” He tilts his head to the side and smiles at the memory.

“That was not the first time we met My Lord, the first time we met you snubbed me in front of the entire ton and sparked rumors that did not leave me until two seasons later.” She was harsh in her words and the tightness in her shoulder’s belayed her desire to flee.

Anthony was speechless, surely he had not? He would’ve remembered her, would’ve remembered turning down one of the most beautiful women he had ever met, intentionally or otherwise.

“I- I beg your deepest forgiveness Y/N I do not remember and if I had I would’ve tried to make it up to you tenfold by now.”

Your eyes began to gloss over and you looked at the wall beside his head, “It was my first season out, Lady Danbury’s ball, and I had seen you standing there surrounded by other gentleman. I had thought you a very fine figure and despite the rumor mill telling me you were nothing but a rake I had tried to begin a conversation. All you did was turn to me and laugh. I wasn’t asked to dance for the entire rest of that season and it was only until my Mother forced the son of one of her garden party friends to dance with me was that streak broken. You were the first and only man I had ever attempted to pursue and you laughed in my face. Were it not for my deep need to help those I see in need I would never have talked to you or any member of the Bridgerton family for the rest of my life.”

“You must know that I regret that, I regret everything I have ever done to hurt you and I will spend the rest of my days working for your forgiveness.” If Anthony was a weaker man he would’ve fallen to his knees and begged for your forgiveness until his last breath, right there in the hallways of his family’s home.

“I appreciate your words Anthony, but that’s all they are… words. I am unmarried, one year from becoming a spinster in the eyes of the entire ton, and you, you are the only one I can blame.” You don’t wait for his reply, just stalking off and wiping the tears from your eyes.

Anthony resolved himself in that moment. He would do whatever it took to make it up to you, to bring a smile to your face, and to cast away the hurt he had caused.

#anthony bridgerton x plus size reader #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #x reader #fanfic #bridgerton fanfiction #plus size reader #plus size!reader #drabble #requests open #requests wanted #bridgerton

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emacrow · 1 day

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So you know the movie Ponyo

What I'm really trying to ask is do you know the mother and the father are like a little thing where the mother looks like an epic Sea Goddess cuz she is and he looks like a sad sickly old man

I'm just imagine that Klarion and Danny

Like Danny looks like an epic beautiful star Death god powerful in the way he moves but it's subtle like he's slowly comforting you to death

And Klarion looks like a crazy witch boy with a cat who look like he's out right feral and about to throw a pipe bomb at you just because he can

I'm just imagining what happens is Young/Dark Justice is worried about Klarion he's been gone for a while and they're wondering what he's planning I imagine they're surprised when they see him with a Lazarus pit

It's a specially surprising when electric entity sticks their head out of the Lazarus pit and starts talking to Klarion as the JLD and YJL hide there waiting for Klarion into demand help our power they watch this being completely start flirting with Klarion

I imagine Klarion and Danny's conversation going like this

Danny: Hello there my amazing chaos what have you came to talk to me about this time

He puts his hands up to pick up Klarion and bring him closer to his face

Klarion: It's that stupid Doctor Fate it's like he doesn't understand too much balance can ruin the order of the world I might love chaos but that would cause a chaos I couldn't even control

Klarion sits down and Danny's hands rubbing his head on one of Danny's fingers as comfort

Danny: Oh my love I could always talk to him and get him to try slow it down a bit if that's what you need

Danny's face turns into one of concern as he says that slowly starting to move around in the bigger than normal Lazarus pit that Klarion found for him

Klarion: No starlight me and Teekl have that old fart handled how about you tell me about your day instead did you find any more stars how is the balance between life and death doing for you

Danny puts him back down as a twinkle goes in to his eyes as he lays down in Lazarus water slowly starting to swim around as he say

Danny: oh Klarion life and death has been amazing and there's a new Star nursery that I found out there it's just wonderful

After Danny says that he pauses for a moment and presents to go underneath the water he comes out looking smaller with white hair and still wearing the same clothing he was wearing when he was larger surprising Klarion by grabbing his hands

Danny: oh Klarion my dear I have an idea how about we let Dr.Fate have what he wants for once in his miserable life let him have order without the balance that he needs that should show him that he needs you should it not

Klarion takes a second to think through It after he does he grabs Danny's hands right back

Klarion: that's an amazing idea Danny I'll stay with you in the infinite realms let's see how Dr Fate work without chaos helping him keep the balance

After that Danny kisses Klarion on the cheek using the the Lazarus pits to take him and Klarion to somewhere called the infinite realms

I'm sorry this is my first time really writing out Klarion I don't know how to write out characters that well I hope it was good that is what I really like is YJ and JLD was just reacting to this conversation since like the plan was listen and find information

You bet damn right that Dr Fate would have trouble keeping the balance, and would probably have the justice league trying to find Klarion because he thinks he up to something but in reality Klarion is in the middle of deep space, playing around with the stars as Danny is molding and feeding the baby star nursery to build a new universe in the making.

Dani is probably with him doing looping loops playing with star dust while Dan beat up any asteroids that had bad bacteria and let some of the good meteorites in that has good bacteria, and frozen water inside of them.

By the the time Justice league figured it out, probably the Green lantern, Hal. He probably gobsmacked and godsmacked straight back where he came form accidentally by Danny's star fueled cape.

#i give answers #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp #dpxdc #danny phantom #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp prompt #danny is the ghost king #danny has a space core #klarion

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meanbossart · 2 days

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in your universe, post game does astarion and drow ever wonder about astarions previous life/family and go looking for it/them?

So, I have some vague headcanons of my own regarding Astarion's family! Can't say they're based on much besides whatever vestige we can assume to be Astarion's "base" personality, and what kind of upbringing produces a man like him.

I would say he comes from a upper-middle class family where either his father, mother, or both parents worked in careers of a similar standing to what he eventually would operate in. His role as a magistrate was, at least in part, thanks to nepotism especially when you consider how young he would have been considered at the time for his race. That said, I do believe he must have been highly educated and primed for it from a young age and was intimately knowledgeable about the ins and outs of his job.

He was raised mostly by his father, his mother having been kicked out of the house when he was a child/young teenager after she developed a drinking problem that got steadily out of control. She would have had a spotty presence in his life for a while before eventually fizzling out entirely, neither knowing what became of her. His dad was a fairly emotionally distant man who wanted his son to succeed in life above anything else, so, at the same time that he provided Astarion with everything he needed in terms of resources and education, he was was otherwise absent, and let Astarion get away with pretty much anything as long as it occurred outside his field of view and didn't affect his duties or the family's reputation. Astarion expertly balanced a standard party-drugs-rock&roll lifestyle and his responsibilities as a youth to keep his father out of his hair, only slipping every once in a while.

He would have become distant from his dad as an "adult" (not quite an adult back then within elf culture, but at least a man with a job and a life of his own) and the two only touched base a few times a year at best, and mostly talked about his career.

After Cazador turned him, Astarion would have eventually figured out a way to, every so often, check the mail at his home. At some point he receives a letter letting him know that his father (who no longer resided in Baldur's Gate) passed away.

He tells DU drow about this to the best of his memory shortly after the events of the game, which is to say the he has no longer any living family that he knows of/knows how to contact.

#ask #astarion

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princessbellecerise · 6 hours

Text

Happily Ever After

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | How the Yandere!HOTD characters would react after being told by your father that they cannot marry you

warnings | Smut, mentions of pregnancy, yandere behavior, public sex, violence, mentions of death and sword fights

this fic is eighteen plus. minors please do not enter

divider by @princessbellecerise

Jacaerys Velaryon

Prince Jacaerys grows desperate upon being told he cannot marry you

The usual level-headed and reasonable Prince that people are used to seeing quickly goes out of the window and is replaced by a man desperate to do anything to have you

Not having you by his side was not part of his plan, and it’s simply not an option

Jace absolutely refuses to have anyone else as his partner, and he’ll be damned if you marry anyone but him

After being told no by your father, Jace begins to spiral

Anyone can see that the Prince is clearly not happy, and his behavior starts to become panicked and irrational

Rhaenyra tells him to let it go; to let you go but she doesn’t understand. How can Jace let you go when you’re everything he’s ever wanted?

He tells, no begs your father to reconsider, tells him that he can’t imagine spending his life with anyone else but you

Jace tries to get him to see just how in love the two of are, but unfortunately your father still tells him no. And it’s nothing against Jace, he reassures the prince, but it’s just that—much to everyone’s surprise—your father has already made arrangements to betroth you to someone else

You of course have absolutely no knowledge of this, and you’re stunned when your father apologizes to Jace but it’s still a big, fat no

He sends you both away and tells you not to ask again because everything is final. And even when you burst into tears, begging your mother to not let him do this, your father doesn’t budge

“This alliance is vital for our House, Y/N. I’m sorry, but you will not be marrying the Prince.”

That night, you go to bed absolutely devastated and of course, you want nothing more than for Jace to comfort you. You wish to sneak out and go to his chambers like you normally do, but your father is smarter than you anticipated

As if he knew exactly what you intended to do, he asks Rhaenyra to place a royal guard at your door

No one is allowed in and no one is allowed out, which makes your plan of seeing Jace impossible

You beg and you plead, but the guard does not budge. He simply tells you go back to bed and alas, you do not see Jacaerys that night. Or any night after that

It seems that your father is intentionally keeping you away from the prince, whisking you away every time he tries to approach or arranging your schedule so that you do not run into him

Additionally, there seems to be a guard present for every little thing you do, so sneaking away isn’t an option

If you do so happen to even see Jace, it’s only through fleeting glances and the lack of contact begins to drive you both insane

You can’t stand being away from one another and time is running out. The only reason your family is in King’s Landing is because your father was there for business, but soon he will be finished and you’ll have to go back to your homeland. Without Jace, to marry someone else

The sheer thought of it gives you anxiety, but you’ve exhausted your pleas and by now you know that your father won’t listen

There’s nothing you or Jace can do to change his mind—or at least, that’s what you think

Two days before you’re supposed to leave though, a sudden knock on the door shocks you. When you open it, you’re expecting it to be one of your family members, but nothing—absolutely nothing—prepares you to see Jace standing on the other side; the guard knocked out, Jace’s fist bloody, and a wild look in his brown eyes

When you ask him what the hell happened, Jace responds by telling you that he can’t live without you, and that he was willing to do whatever it took to make you his

He couldn’t let you leave without doing something, and so that night, the prince takes you in every position that he can think of. Missionary, doggy style, against the wall, on the balcony

Anything to breed your pretty little cunt, anything to make sure that his seed takes

Jace hates it, he hates breaking the rules and as heir he knows what he’s doing is wrong

He knows that impregnating you while not being married could potential ruin him, you, and his mother. He knows how the greens would react to a bastard having a bastard, but he’s so afraid of losing you that he doesn’t care

Jace risks everything that night just to make sure that you stay by his side; and it works

A few days later, you still end up leaving with your family but on the journey back home you pray to the Gods that your plan works

You pray that Jacaerys’ seed takes root in your womb and to your utter excitement, you prayers come true

A few short weeks after returning home, you notice that your moon blood hasn’t come and you start to get sick nearly every morning

You’re barely well enough to attend any meetings with your so-called ‘betrothed,’ and it doesn’t take long for someone to catch onto your symptoms

When your maids discover what’s going on, they immediately tell your mother, who in turn tells your furious father

When you finally break the news, you swear that you had never seen him get so angry before. Had your mother not been holding him back, you were sure that he would’ve strangled you where you stood

Alas though, as much as he wanted to wring your neck he knew that harming the future Queen of Westeros would not be a wise decision

After all, there were no doubts about who the father of your unborn child was, and as soon as the news broke your father had furiously written to Rhaenyra and informed her of the situation

As soon you arrived in King’s Landing, you were all but thrown into a wedding gown, modified to fit over your stomach of course

But either way, you and Jace get exactly what you want—the opportunity to spend forever together, and six moons later, a healthy, chunky baby that just so happens to be born three moons sooner than anyone expected

Aegon Targaryen

Aegon is angry when your father tells him no

And it’s not just because of the rejection, it’s also because he knows—Aegon knows that the only reason he says no is because your father doesn’t think he’s good enough for you

In fact, your father flat-out tells him this, and to make things even worse, your father declares that you’ll marry his brother instead—the responsible, honorable Aemond

Like hell Aegon would ever let that happen

You are the one thing Aegon has that Aemond doesn’t. Someone to love and genuinely care for him, and Aegon isn’t going to let that go so easily

He has half a mind to draw his sword and kill your father on the spot for even suggesting such a vile idea, but you beg him not to. Despite heavily disagreeing with your father’s decision, you tell Aegon that there’s other ways to get him to change his mind that doesn’t involve bloodshed

Surprisingly, Aegon listens to you but you should’ve known it was only because he had already thought of something worse

You didn’t know it, but when Aegon lures you into his chambers the next day, he’s come up with a plan

He knows exactly how to get your father to change his mind, and his plan starts the moment he has you naked

Unfortunately, it’s not the first time you and Aegon have fucked so bedsheets are no use to him. No, your lover has to get a bit more creative than that

Somehow, Aegon convinces you to try something new and you end up bent over the Prince’s balcony as he fucks you from behind, his cock driving in and out of your slick cunt

It’s the middle of the day and what you’re doing is beyond risky, not only because you’re not married, but also because literally anyone could look up and see the two of you

You see, the Prince’s balcony just so happened to overlook the training yard, and though it was empty at the moment, Aegon knew exactly when it got crowded

All he had to do was wait for his chance, fucking you so good that you didn’t even grasp the situation

You were none the wiser as to what was happening, eyes closed as you basked in the pleasure. You moaned his name and clenched around his cock, feeling a familiar pinch in your stomach

Just as you reached your peak, you began to hear shouting from below

Startled gasps and a few screams had your eyes flying open, Aegon smirking as you caught the attention of at least twenty people—one of whom was your father

He stood, horrified as the prince locked eyes with him. Seemingly taunting him as he rutted into you, moaning and still fucking you against the railing

Aegon swore that he had never came so hard in his life—expect maybe on your wedding night less two days later, the memory of your father’s face and the satisfaction of getting what he wanted fueling what he calls, “The best fuck of his goddamn life.”

Daemon Targaryen

Daemon is amused upon being told no

He’s amused and it’s because he never really asked for permission in the first place. It was more like…a courtesy warning, and he only did it because he knew you were too scared to tell your father yourself

After all, the Rouge Prince has a reputation and it’s not exactly squeaky clean. Daemon’s track record with his wives is why your father said no, but he should’ve known that no isn’t in Daemon Targaryen’s vocabulary

In fact, Daemon merely laughs in your father’s face, declaring that the two of you will be married in a fortnight, regardless of what your father says

Show up or don’t, Daemon doesn’t care—but you will be his wife

And of course, your father protests, appalled that the prince is so bold

He even goes as far as to complain to the King, but Viserys is old and weak. There’s seldom that he can do to fight Daemon anymore except threaten to exile him again, but Daemon isn’t afraid of punishment

He’ll gladly leave the hell hole that’s King’s Landing, but he makes it clear that if he does, Westeros will never see him or you again

He relays this threat to your father, and in his desperation to keep you away from the Prince, your father all but flees in the middle of the night. Making sure that no one except those loyal to your House know where he’s taking you

Despite your protests and your attempts to alert Daemon, you’re dragged on a boat and shipped off to a far away land, one where your father hopes the Prince will never find you

He even goes so far as to change your hair and make up a fake identity for you, but he was a fool to think that he could ever cross Daemon Targaryen

If the Prince wasn’t annoyed with your father before, then Daemon is most certainly furious when he learns that he’s all but kidnapped you

He sets to work on finding you almost immediately, and he swears once he does he’ll kill anyone that helped with this ridiculous scheme

He starts his search by fiercely questioning all of the guards and servants that were tending to you. And because he’s Daemon Targaryen, it doesn’t take long to get the answers he’s looking for

With one look at Caraxes, the so-called men that were loyal to your house end up folding pretty quickly. Daemon has them all but fighting each other to give up your location, though unfortunately their honesty isn’t enough to spare their lives

In his pursuit to get where you are, Daemon leaves a trail of bodies

He kills anyone that he suspects of helping your father, though his rage won’t be satisfied until he confronts the man himself

And what do you know—your father truly is a fool of a man because it turns out that he took you to Pentos. Pentos, the land where Daemon Targaryen lived for years

Why he thought that was a good idea, no one knows. Perhaps he thought that hiding you in plain sight would be enough to fool Daemon, but unfortunately the rouge Prince is much too smart for that

And due to all of the connections Daemon has in the city (and his dragon) it takes him less than a week to locate you

He finds you hiding just on the outskirts of the city, in some rundown village. You look miserable as you chat with some of the locals, hatching your own plans to escape and somehow get back to Daemon

Your father was asleep in the house that you shared, though the beat of Caraxes’ wings are enough to alert you both, your father waking up and running outside just as Daemon lands in front of you

The Prince wears a smirk of triumph as he dismounts his dragon, taking in your father’s horrified face and laughing

He enjoys the moment almost as much as he enjoys the way you immediately run to you, ignoring your father’s protests and shouts to come back

It’s obvious who you choose by the way you hang onto Daemon, hiding behind him while Caraxes roars

There’s a moment where everything seems to stand still, and Daemon drinks in his moment of victory before slowly gesturing you towards his dragon, helping you mount

As you climb onto the red beast, Daemon slipping in the saddle behind you, the last thing your father sees is the smirk that adorns Daemon’s face

Lilac eyes with with his own, and then, Prince’s lips utter a single word

“Dracarys.”

Lucerys Velaryon

Poor Luke is devastated when your father rejects his proposal

It took all he had to muster up the courage to even ask, and now he’s crushed that he won’t be able to marry the love his life

Not only that, Luke genuinely cannot see himself with anyone else. You’re it for him, and he’s determined to be with you no matter what

Call it young love or maybe just sheer stupidity, but one night Luke sneaks into your chambers and hatches a plan

He tells you that there’s a way for you to be together, a way for you to have your happy ending after all. All you have to do is come with him, and he’ll take you to a place where no one, including your father, can come between you two ever again

And that night, when you flee with the Prince on the back of Arrax, it almost feels like a fairytale. You’ve never felt more alive than you did as you watched the Red Keep disappear into the night

With your heart beating as fast as Arrax’s wings, you and Luke run away, neither of you thinking of the consequences, or caring

You’re just so happy to be together that everything else falls into the background. Caught up in your own bliss, you and Luke flee to Essos where the Prince has arranged for you to be married

Like he promised, no one is there to object or to stop you from becoming one. They’re all too busy in King’s Landing looking for you both, your mother distraught and your father wondering what happened to his youngest child

Likewise, Rhaneyra nearly collapses when she finds out that Luke is missing, but Daemon reassures her he’ll be back. He doesn’t know when, he tells her, but he has a sneaking suspicion that when he does you’ll be in tow

And what do you know—four moons go by and it turns out that Daemon was right. You and Luke return to King’s Landing after all, and upon arrival you’re greeted by your weeping mother and your

concerned father

They both have so many questions—where have you been, what happened, why did you run away?

And everyone is so focused on questioning you, so relieved that the Prince isn’t dead after all, that they almost miss the glaringly obvious bump that’s concealed behind your blue dress

Almost

You try to hide it as best as you can, but when your father pulls you in for a hug you know that he can feel it. The horrified expression he wears when he pulls away confirms this. And when you back away, placing a loving hand over your stomach and settling into Luke’s arms, that is when he also takes note of the matching Velaryon pins on your clothes

“We have something to announce,” Luke tells his mother excitedly

You both share a loving look, and Rhaneyra’s eyes are ready to pop out of her skull when Luke places a hand over your stomach and grins

“Y/N is with child.”

Aemond Targaryen

Aemond takes your father’s words as a challenge

Despite how irritated he is at being flat-out rejected, he decides not to lash out or show any emotion really

For Aemond, keeping a level head is important. It allows him to plan, to strategize like he’s always been taught and to be able to stay one step ahead

He supposes he’s just like his grandfather in a way, and it’s obvious that your father underestimates just how far Aemond is willing to go for you

The first man that your father agrees to betroth you to only lasts about five minutes in the duel Aemond challenges him to

The second fairs a little better, though not by much. By the third, your father is furious and it’s become a game for Aemond to see how fast his opponent can last before they ultimately meet their maker

He wears a smirk the entire time he’s fighting, easily ducking and dodging and occasionally striking which wounds the man heavily. It’s obvious that he’s going to win, again, and the sobs and screams from the Lord’s family are hard to miss

They sit next to you in the crowd that surrounds him and Aemond, and every time Aemond lands a blow your father flinches, muttering under his breath how it was a mistake to ever let you meet that man

You on the other are ecstatic, occasionally locking eyes with Aemond and sending him encouraging smiles

You pray after each duel that your father will finally change his mind and allow you to marry Aemond, but it’s not until after the fourth duel does he agree

After a particularly bloody and grueling fight, there are no more proposals. Every Lord that had ever considered asking for your hand is now too terrified to even speak to you, and with the lack of marriage offers your father has no choice but to admit defeat

He agrees to marry you to Aemond, and of course, Aemond feels victorious. He smugly thanks your father for his reconsideration, shaking his hand and promising that he won’t be regretting his decision

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idkfitememate · 2 days

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(My sincerest apologies, but this is a male reader! He/Him pronouns!! Anyone can read of course, but if I find any comments of a fetishized nature, your comment will be deleted and you will be promptly blocked! Thank you!!~)

Wendigo’s are spirits that claim body over the dead and force the risen corpse to eat the flesh of their brethren, turning others into flesh eating creatures such as themselves.

Changlings were many things, but the one thing they all had in common was that they were placed in the cradles of human children who were snatched away in the night by fairies. They had the innate ability to change their forms and appearances to become something they weren’t, to convince others they were that new form.

Now… what if these two creatures were to mate? A creature of infinite flesh and identities and one of never endearing hunger for flesh and a spirit of famine?

You would get the second in command of the young Schoenheit. Vil’s right hand man and assistant since birth.

(y/n).

He was of average height, average build, average hair color, average eye color, average everything.

Nothing about him stood out amongst the gorgeous crowd of those whom he would work with.

Though, he had an innate eye for beauty and details, even in the most of drab places. He had the ability to turn any old lump of coal into diamond. He could spot anyone and turn them into a star.

That’s why his parents worked out a deal with Vil’s.

(y/n) works with Vil to keep appearances and popularity stay shining, and Vil’s family will continue to house and tend to (y/n)’s.

Fair, yes?

Well it was, for some time anyway. Before Vil was whisked off in that Ebony Carriage guided by those horses of bone, off to Night Raven College, leaving (y/n) behind.

Leaving his friend behind.

At least, (y/n) would like to say they were friends, but he knew better. He was nothing more than another tool in Vil’s arsenal to keep him in the spotlight, but honestly? (y/n) couldn’t complain.

After years of being a glorified servant of the other, he grew an attachment to the blond/purple haired man. Seeing him everyday was apart of the fae boy’s daily routine and him being missing from it was already messing with him.

Even though Vil had only been taken shipped off around a day ago. But that wasn’t the biggest issue.

The biggest issue would have to be the fact that an Ebony Carriage had come for him a few nights before, and in a fit of rage he destroyed it.

Though he did more than just throw stones or bricks, he intended to send a message. YOU intended to send a message.

A message asking why the fuck they would dare try to separate you from your *kostbar schimmernder stern.

You broke the coffin in, shattering the glass surrounding it. You did torch the wood of the carriage, and completely destroyed the small mirror that rested on the top of that forsaken coffin.

You sent it on its way as a warning.

Only to come and regret that decision as you watched from the tree line as the carriage that now held the sleeping body of your friend rid off under the moonlight.

After his leaving, you barely left your room, only carrying out your job with… lesser clients via email or a messenger. Though if not in your room, you’d be in the forest, most likely with your parents.

Speaking of, all your life you kept your family heritage a secret. Whenever someone wanted to meet your parents - such as Vil’s parents - they’d speak through a servant or you. Not to say that they looked inhuman, in fact, they were like you in human forms. Both shockingly average.

But rather because neither, no matter how much practice they had, they could never get over their… urges.

Your mother was a very, very old wendigo, older than most fae really. You could hear her cries beyond the gates of the house, the signs of a successful hunt. Never was she not bloody, her hair drenched in the red, sticky substance and her teeth stained crimson. She carried the scent of death with her everywhere, and sometimes you could see her “fixing” her body, otherwise known as sewing her skin back together. She had made an effort to never allow you to see her “true” form, but that was for naught as very early on in your life you had seen her stalking back to the house, two dead bucks trapped in her maw as her bones and joints creaked with every movement.

Her bloodshot eyes meeting yours. Blood dripping off her skull and large, sharp antlers onto your dolls.

You personally could say the dolls looked better dressed in red.

And your father, ever the trickster he was. With a glance of the untrained eye, and he would seem entirely human. Though, by living with him you could both see and feel, deeply that something was wrong. How his joints would twitch and jut in odd ways, how his expressions were always just slightly off the mark. How he wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t drink. How he never slept or even breathed. If you pressed into his skin enough, you could feel a wooden texture beneath the flesh, and his eyes were dull, as if carved from stone.

His teeth twitched as though alive, and his throat would make the oddest noises, such as bark rubbing together or leaves rustling against each other. Sometimes you could find him staring into the forest, his eyes completely blacked out, his body changing and shifting. His arms too long and his legs too short. His hair both shaggy and sleek while long and short. Haunting noises scraping themselves from his throat.

And sometimes you could hear something respond.

After Vil left, you’d go hunting with your mom, seeing the love she put into every kill for you, as you began to eat with her. She forbade you from eating meals with her due to her diet, but seeing how upset you were, she made an exception.

The feeling of raw deer flesh on your tongue as you gnawed on bones to help clean your teeth, feeling blood run down your chin as you shoved your face into the neck of a fresh kill, your mother kneeled over in her true form, chuffing and licking at your back with love. The grime of dried blood and small hairs beneath your nails as you clawed deeper and deeper into the corpse.

You found a beauty in it.

The beauty of life and death; the circle of life, you supposed.

You’d do the same with your dad, him helping you with your magic output. Finding out that you had inherited your mothers instincts with your fathers innate ability to change. Not your signature spell, but a powerful magic nonetheless.

You spent your days inside or with your family as grief at the loss of your friend consumed you.

You regretted not going when you had the chance. You wanted and needed to find a way inside that damned school.

As you cuddled into the warmth of the pile your family had formed on a pile of blankets and pillows under a window that allowed sunlight to stream onto you, you began to form a plan.

Didn’t that designer work there? What was his name…

Divus Crewel?

‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧

It hadn’t been hard really, to get in contact with the fashionista, but after a couple emails you finally got one back.

The school year had started by now, so designing for him was more of a pastime right now rather than a job. But that didn’t stop others from making requests. And no matter how punctual he was with his years of experience, there would always be something or someone to throw him off. Having someone to manage a schedule and otherwise would be a large help, and with your rather impressive portfolio, you knew he’d be bound to say yes.

And yes he did say.

You were scheduled to move to NRC in a few days, packing your belongings in a large suitcase. You heard the door open to your room but didn’t move from your packing instead letting your mother walk to you. You closed the suitcase in time the stopthe blood splatter from the large dead bear she dropped to touch your clothes. Finally looking up at her, she had a small smile on her patchwork face.

“Eat.”

That was all she said but you understood. Usually - with you anyway - the hunts were small with deer or bucks, the occasional fox, wolf or small bunny for a snack. But a bear, that was something worth celebrating. Not to say your mother couldn’t catch something larger, but it was the largest thing she caught for you.

It was a parting gift.

You knew that hunting would become a scarce activity and that’d you’d once more need to get acquainted with regular foods, so this was a very welcome gift, as after this it’d be nothing but cooked meats for you, unfortunately.

Your hands easily gripped the flesh through It’s fur, tearing a large chunk off its neck. You ran a hand through the thick coat before tugging, and with a swift pull, nearly all fur came off the chunk.

You brought the bare skin to your mouth, sinking razor sharp teeth into it. You could tell it was fresh, from the mass amounts of blood that spilled down your chin. The disgusting sounds of flesh being chewed could be heard throughout the home as your father walked in, in his hands a box.

You placed your bite down and rubbed your hands on your pants, turning to him. He stepped over, not minding the blood now on his shoes, and crouched dow, placing the box in your lap.

He ran and hand through your hair as you took in the box.

It was white with a large red bow, small black accents patterned across the top.

Gently untying the bow and lifting the top, a butchers set and a makeup set lay before you, in the center a small gemstone mixed with purple and red sat before you. Picking it up you realized what it was.

When practicing your magic, your parents would offer up an old wand or pen, as was customary. You had yet to do anything with your own life, in the sense that you had yet to fly the nest.

And here you were, making your first decision for yourself. One that would lead you away from here.

From them.

A magic gem.

You could feel the power dripping from inside it, pushing into your being and forcibly flowing through your veins. Looking at the knife and makeup brush sets you noted the small indents in parts of their bases. You gently placed the gem in the sharpener - it was the most normal looking compared to the others, looking like a metal wand - and waved it a bit, small sparkles emanating from its tip.

You stared at the duel sets, then gently set the sharpener down, before leaping up and hugging your father. Your mother quickly got up as well, wrapping her much longer arms around you and your father, none of you minding the blood staining your clothes.

Tomorrow was a new day.

‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧

“Glad to see you made it in one piece.”

You stood before Divus Crewel, sciences teacher of Night Raven College and fashion designer. Together in the hall of mirrors, he motioned you forward and began to walk to another mirror, to what you only could assume were the teachers housing.

Dragging behind you were multiple bags, considering the contract you both came up with required you to be on campus the whole time you were employed during the school year, if only to keep you close. The black and white man apparently much more preferred face to face meetings over calls and e-mails.

Divus looked back at you. You had at least five large suitcases and a slew of smaller bags, but were carrying them with ease. By now you had both stepped through the mirror towards his current home and were simply walking the trail to the building, but you were keeping up with his brisk pace with no problem.

He’d be a fool to say he hadn’t heard of you. Just like all the models he worked with, your name was all over the high world of acolytes. You had clients in every circle, and not one of them was dissatisfied. One of the youngest in the business, at only eighteen, Divus would’ve expected you to be a bit ‘shaky on your legs’ so to speak, but you held yourself up high, no signs of stopping or of any fatigue.

Such an interesting boy you are…

“I meant to ask before, but what made you so eager to ask for this role?” Crewl was many things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. He knew Vil had just recently came to NRC, leaving you without your biggest star. So to reach out to Crewl just a few weeks later, he had a feeling he knew why you were here. But he wanted to see if you’d admit it.

“I had recently seen your work. And after… ‘loosing’ Vil, a lot of my work time has dropped. I needed to be busy again, after my few weeks of down time. I hope you understand, fashion is a bit out of my expertise, but I figured it’d be a fun new experience.”

Crewl opened the door to the rather large mansion-like building, guiding you down hall after hall, you immediately making note of every twist and turn as the salt and pepper haired man showed you to what you assumed would be your room for the rest of the school year.

“I see… well, these will be your living quarters till the end of our current contract. I will leave you to get situated for tonight and will show you around the school tomorrow. This weekend will be spent showing you around the rest of this building and fully ironing out your role and duties under me, understood?” You nodded.

“Good pup. Have a good night.” You stared at the back of his head as he walked out of the room and closed the door. You immediately looked around the room taking it in.

It was large, much larger than your own back home. High walls with near ceiling to floor length windows surrounded you, the walls painted in grays and black with hints of purples and golds.

A tribute to the Headmaster of this place, you assumed.

Your new Alaskan king sized canopy bed sat in a corner with sheets that matched to walls, the only other furniture being a desk with a chair, a nightstand, and a dresser. You sighed, knowing your pockets were about to be drained in order to personalize the room.

You walked over to a door, opening it to find the largest walk-in closet - next to Vil’s - you’d ever seen. The damn thing even had a couple levels.

Then you checked the bathroom, which had a glass shower with far too many buttons levers, a quite large and wide clawfoot bathtub, a large vanity with two sinks - why would you ever need two??? - and a towel closet that, again, was much to large for its intended purpose.

Though curiously, in the back of the towel closet, was a magic imbued safe. Quickly figuring out that it responded to a spell of the users choice, you choose a spell of Wendigo nature and unlocked it, walking back to the main room and taking out both sets of “wands” your father gave you. You removed the sharpener from the box and took the others back into the bathroom, quickly pushing them into the safe and locking it back up.

Now, it was time for a room makeover… or the best you could right now, anyway.

‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧

The last of your clothes are placed into the closet and sighed. All unpacked, all that was left was actually giving the room a makeover, you were just stuck between actually putting in some elbow grease and doing it yourself, or just magicing - is that a word? - the room and being done with it.

As you pondered, you glanced out the window, noting the moon was starting to rise, sky dark and shining with stars. At that same moment, your stomach growled. You huffed and walked over to the window, staring out at the back of the building, noticing in a forest behind it. In fact, you now recalled that a forest surrounded the damn thing.

How… convenient.

You grabbed your wand and threw on a pair of boots and an over coat that was already painted a deep crimson, as well as a small satchel, and stalked out the door, humming quietly to yourself.

You snuck through halls, hypersensitive to any boards that seemed a little too loose for your liking. You leapt over railing and fell to the first floor, opening the front door silently and closing it behind you. Your nail grew into a point, and you entered it to the lock, locking the door back into place. Then, you took off into the night, rushing through trees.

You dropped to all fours and ran faster, taking in the night air.

You heard your limbs snap as your form changed, long and jagged antlers protruding from your head as the skin melted off your face. Your limbs lengthened and your legs became unguligrade, bones cracking and rebuilding themselves. Your awkward run became a strong gallop, your body thinning until your ribs pushed through your skin and spine protruding from your back.

You sniffed the air, taking in the scents of different animals that desperately ran from you already, your presence already disrupting the peace of the forest simply by being there.

… a little doe was nearby.

Your head snapped in her direction. Skin that was still rotting off you flying off from the sheer force of your head. You leaned low, head nearly touching the floor of the forest, stalking towards her direction.

Your breathing was shallow, antlers lightly scraping the branches above you. Slowly, the doe came into view, lightly munching away on grass and flowers in the moonlight. Tan fur flowed in the wind, ears twitching and nose sniffing.

She was beautiful.

When you came into the clearing, her head perked up immediately, looking at you. You huffed and stayed low, tail wagging behind you in wait. She stared for a moment longer before quietly diving back down into her meal. If you had lips, you would’ve smiled.

You continued to crawl forward, the doe no longer caring about your being there, caring only for the flowers she feasted on. You finally came to a point where she was only a few feet away, her scent searing into your nose, making your already shallow breathing harder.

You stalled, letting the wind brush through your fur, before you strike. And the moment came.

You leapt from the ground, jaw crunching around her neck before she could make a noise. Blood licked your nostrils, splattering across your form as the sickening snap of her neck resounded through the forest.

Without hesitation you marred her pure flesh with your tainted teeth. You tore through her skin to the meat, biting down on her shoulder. You shredded the muscle, chewing till bone then working your way down till nothing but the guts remained, to which you began to shift back.

Your body was still covered in the sticky blood. You made sure all your clothes shifted with you, counting the layers in your head. With a nod you whipped out your wand and whispered a spell, the remaining guts and bone bunching themselves together. With the small satchel in hand, you scooped up the remains and began the trek back to the house, moon hanging in the sky, the only witness to your brutality.

You went the way you came once entering the establishment, steps light and airy. You made it to your room in record time, waltzing into the bathroom and hiding your cloak and boots in the back, near the safe. You removed the pouch from a pocket and set on the sink as you washed up, a quick shower rising you of your sin. You and the pouch made your way into the bedroom and the pouch made its way into a small drawer in your nightstand, a chilling spell placed over it as you snuggled up in the side sheet, satin pajamas hugging your figure.

It was only a few hours you slept, rising when the suns rays had just barely touched the surface of the world. You rose with no hesitation, wide awake almost immediately. You rushed to the bathroom and began your morning ritual, having picked up some tips from Vil as the years went by. Face creams and masks, makeup of all types. You’d gotten so good that you knew you could rush with no restraint.

You had more than enough time before school started, hell, you knew you were most likely one of the only people awake. But it was for a purpose.

You needed to be on the good side of the teachers above all.

You may have only been employed with Crewl, but throughout your day, you mostly only be speaking and seeing the teachers. Rushing to your drawer - without changing. There was no need right now - you took out what was left of the doe. You slipped on some fuzzy slippers and rushed down the halls, again, missing all creaky floorboards and sniffing the air, following the smell of herbs and coffee in the mansion.

You made it to the kitchen without trouble, opening the pouch and feeling around in the pouch, removing the intestines.

Sausage was on the menu this morning. You hoped no one was a vegan.

It was easy to begin cooking. Vil loved your cooking. No one could do it right like you, he constantly said. Once more, you were fast and effective, starting the coffee maker. You also started some eggs and hash browns, biscuits and chopping fruit.

You multitasked, buttering the biscuits and flipping eggs, making both sunny side up - a personal favorite for you - and scrambled. As you took the hash browns out, you heard shuffling behind you, as well as the meowing of a cat.

… Can cats eat sausage?

You turned around and met the gaze of an older man with greying hair and a black cat around his shoulders.

Mozus Trein… and his cat, Lucius.

“I assume you are Crewl’s new assistant?” Short sweet and strait to the point. You simply nodded, taking the fresh made sausage out the pan and letting it cool off to the side. With a step, you took the cup you placed from under the coffee machine, turning back to him.

“Do you like anything in your coffee? Or do you prefer it black? Or, would you prefer anything else?” Lucius jumped off from the older man’s shoulders onto the island counter, him taking a seat and crossing his legs. You noted he was fully dressed for the day, despite it barely being six am.

“Milk and two sugars, thank you.” He hummed. The glanced away before turning back. “And would you mind grabbing the paper? We get it delivered, should be at the door by now.” You nodded and took off, not looking back.

Now that it was light out, you took your time to examine the halls a bit more thoroughly. Paintings lined the walls, each of different landscapes that painted the world of Twisted Wonderland.

The most prominent being - of course - the seven lands in which The Great Seven all hail from.

The Queendom of Roses, Sunset Savana, the Coral Sea, the Scalding Sands, Briar Valley, and others.

Each portrait was lifelike. Each snowflake glinting back at you and each thorn looking as though you’d cut yourself if you poked at it. You could see each individual grain of sand and scale on a fish. It was impressive.

Finally making it to the front once more, you were met with a man who was getting ready to head out. He had dreads and was wearing something akin to a suit, though a waiter’s apron was tired to his waist. You had come from behind, so hearing you he turned, and you also saw he had white paint streaked across his skin.

“Now, who may you be?” He asked, you staring becoming blatant. Your eyes didn’t move from analyzing him, grunting. After another moment of silence and the man seemingly starting to sweat, you hummed, moving to the front door and throwing it open. You quietly picked up the newspaper and turned back to him.

“Crewl’s new assistant, (Y/n).” Was all you said, though you kept staring. After another moment of silence, he seemed to note that you were waiting for him to introduce himself.

“Well then uh… names Sam. I run Mr. S’s Mystery Shop. Pop by if you’re in the need for anything..?” He drew off as he watched you walk away, back in the direction of the kitchen.

“What a weird kid…”

Your steps once more echoed in the halls as you re-entered the kitchen, seeing that Mozus had helped himself and served himself up a plate. Before you could announce yourself, however, a large hand clapped itself on your back, making you stumble forward.

Without a word, you fell face first onto the floor, newspaper still in hand.

Still, quiet silence followed.

“Uh… you okay, kid?” Your grunted, still lying on the floor. A hand, the same one you guessed, grabbed you by the scruff of your sleep shirt and yanked you upward, you still like a kitten. When you were dropped back onto your feet, you turned and found the PE teacher, Ashton Vargas.

You nodded at him before he could speak and wondered over to Mozus, who was watching the whole interaction with little care. You gently placed the newspaper in front of him and he thanked you with a nod, Lucius meowing at you.

You then faced Ashton, holding a hand out. He grasped it and squeezed - though you’re sure it was unintentional - and shook it with vigor.

“Sorry ‘bout that! Ashton Vargas, PE teacher here at Night Raven. You?” You nodded in kind.

“(Y/n), Crewl’s new assistant. Pleasure.” Your face remained blank through the interaction, gaze breaking for a moment only to look at the breakfast you’d prepared, then looking back at the rather built man.

“I’ve prepared a breakfast if you-“ “I’m good, thank you.” Your eyebrow raised in question and the man laughed, making Mozus groan.

“I already ate about… twelve-dozen eggs this morning during my pre-school work out!” Your eye twitched at the thought. Due to your biology, you could ingest raw egg no problem, but to eat twenty-four strait raw eggs just sounds… you couldn’t do it. So instead, you simply nodded and walked over to the food, grabbing a bit of everything before looking back at the two.

“Where is Mr. Crewl’s room?” Ashton blinked before nodding towards the door.

“Just down the hall, he’s closest to the kitchen actually. Shocked he ain’t out here yet honestly.” You nodded and made your way out of the kitchen, walking steadily down the hall, balancing the plate on one hand.

Walking down the hall, you kept an eye out for the correct door. You didn’t want to open a closet or anything. But suddenly, someone crashed into you. Crewel fell from the impact, your form still standing strong with the plate of food unmoving.

“Where were you?!? I’ve been searching for ten minutes now!! Come come, time is waisting and I still have to put you in uniform.” You tilted your head as Crewel stood back up, walked behind you and began to push you to what you could only assume was his room.

“Uniform?” You questioned. Crewel sighed, but smirked as well. “Yes uniform. A little something a threw into our contract at the very end. You don’t mind, do you?” You grunted. Should’ve seen something akin to this coming, you supposed, but you couldn’t loose this. You hadn’t even seen Vil yet.

“Fine.” “Good, now, come along.” And off you both went, to gain your new uniform.

‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧

The uniform wasn’t too bad. A fluffy tailcoat - with coat tails, not real ones - that went to the backs of your knees, a vest that was the reverse of his in terms of color, black dress pants and black dress shoes. You looked nice, in your own opinion at least.

As you looked yourself over in the mirror, Crewel sat at his desk, munching away on the breakfast you made.

“This is pretty good...” He mumbled as he watched you twirl in the mirror, taking in every part of your new outfit. He hummed, placing his fork down and grabbing his teacher pointer and standing.

“Come on, let’s not waste anymore time. I’ll give you a quick rundown of some things I’ll need you to do at the school, but as I said, we will fully go over your duties during the weekend. Understood?” You nodded and walked out with him, patting your body and sighing when you felt your ‘wand’ in your picket.

And off you both went. Walking the trail towards the gate that would lead to NRC.

To your new life for the next couple of months, maybe even years.

Something inside you, your heart perhaps, beat rapidly at the thought of seeing Vil again, even if just for a class period. You were… excited?

Yes, excited.

It was time to begin. To get your Vil back.

Nah I gotta split this motherfucker up because what in the hell-

I’m so fucking tied but I wanna continue this but it’s already so fucking long- eh I’ll finish it later have this-

Love you guys <3

#vil shoenheit x reader #vil x reader #vil schoenheit #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #x reader #yandere reader #male reader #x male reader

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melancholy-of-nadia · 2 days

Text

nuts. (m) | knj

title: nuts. (m) pairing: knj x reader(f) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; neighbors au , age-gap au (reader is 25, namjoon is 30); grad student au summary: Your future is clear. Pass the LSAT. Go to SNU law school. Become a prosecutor, and be successful. At least, that’s what your mother wants. But when you fail the LSAT, you have to come to terms with the fact that your mother’s wishes might not line up with your own. Out sulking in the rain after an explosive argument, help comes in the form of your sex-crazed neighbor, Kim Namjoon - the very man who’s constant moaning and fucking from next door is the reason why you became so distracted from studying! And since it’s his fault things have resulted this way, it’s only fair that he take responsibility, right? note: heavily inspired by the first 4 chapter of the korean webtoon "where the heart is" - 가족이 되어주라 , with minor dialogue and event changes note 2: this is pretty unedited lmao.... so if there are mistakes i'm so sorry. warnings: language, reader is stressed, best friend! taehyung, dialogue heavy, namjoon is cold, very much rpwp joon, joon is half naked a lot, dilf joon, slight angst, a little too relatable to a mid life crisis, a little bit of drinking, kinda rough s*x, CONSENSUAL protected s*x, cunn*lingus, finger*ng, attempted blowj*b, b*ckshots, joon is too smooth, RIDING, n*pple play, french kissing, did i mention this is her FIRST TIME, yeah and first kiss, namjoon is vague about his living situation? drop date: May 28th, 2023, 1:00pm pst word count: 6.9k crossposted on ao3 here —

“Remember, you’re the one that asked me to show you.” Namjoon’s voice is a low, steady rumble, his breath hot against your ear as he pins you down on his bed, his strong hands gripping your wrists.

If you could, you’d give anything to return to that moment. And you really mean anything. On that extremely rainy day, when your neighbor approached you, trudging through the downpour.

That unforgettable day was the first time you had sex.

╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚

You pace around your bedroom, frustration bubbling up inside you. The muffled moaning, thumping and groaning coming from the other side of your wall are impossible to ignore. You’re so done! You try to distract yourself, playing some lofi beats softly in the background but no, the noise is relentless, making it hard to focus on anything else.

How are you going to manage to pass your exam to get into law school if all you can hear is the fucking from next door? You need to get into law school and if you don’t, your mom is going to kill you.

With a huff, you throw yourself onto your bed, staring at the ceiling in exasperation. Grabbing your phone from the nightstand, you unlock it and open the KakaoTalk app. You scroll through your contacts until you find Kim Taehyung, your best friend. If there's anyone who can offer some comfort or at least a distraction, it's him.

You begin typing furiously, your thumbs flying over the keyboard as you pour out your endless complaints and rants.

But all of a sudden, there’s a quietness. Huh? What’s going on? Why did the sounds suddenly stop?

You get up and lean your head against the wall, hearing a murmuring from people on the other side. You try to make out the words. Turn… Around…?

Wait. Turn Around?! Your face flushes in embarrassment from hearing these words and thinking about the implications of them.

The ding of a new text from Taehyung yanks you out of the depths of your mind and you yell, dropping your phone on your bed. A few seconds later, your mom opens the door to your bedroom. “Y/N, I brought you some snacks...”

“Mom!” You yell this time, startled by her sudden appearance and taking a deep breathe. “You… scared me.”

“Why are you so jumpy? Don’t tell me you’re looking at something weird again.” She scowls at you.

You grab your phone, faking a phone call with Taehyung. “H-Hey, you don’t have to yell into the phone like that. You startled me Tae!” You can't have her getting suspicious or hearing the sounds from next door.

Her scowl deepens. “You were reading those gay japanese comics again, weren’t you?”

“No, of course not, I was talking to Taehyung..!” you whisper urgently, hoping to divert her attention.

That was one time! Months ago, might you add! You should’ve never left your phone face up while you went to pick up your package from the front door. She doesn’t seem convinced by your excuse and sighs in exasperation.

You get up, head toward the front door of your apartment and slip on your slides. “Mom, I’m gonna step out for a bit and talk to Tae on the phone.”

“Be back in 30 minutes then,” she responds, her tone softening slightly.

You close the door behind you, leaning against it with a sigh of relief. That was close. If your mom ever found out you were eavesdropping on what the guy next door was doing, you'd never hear the end of it. You look at your phone again and check Taehyung's text.

You sigh, walking over to lean against the railing on the veranda, overlooking the city from the 4th floor.

The summer sun is bright and the heat is strong as it hits your skin. It’s been a while since you’ve had such a nice day. You’ve mostly been stuck inside studying. But despite not many people out and about, it’s so noisy. It’s all these cicadas.. And if you’re being completely honest, the noises from next door are nowhere near as loud as these damn cicadas. Your neighbors’ sounds are so faint that you have to press your head against the wall and yet, you’re the one who can’t stop eavesdropping on what’s happening next door.

You look at your phone again as you hear another text notification. You appreciate Tae trying to lighten up the situation, but you don’t want him to make too much of a fuss over it.

You begin to type a response: Nah, it’s okay, don’t worry about it. I’ll try to ignore the moaning… Before your finger hits send, It's in this moment that you hear a creak from a door opening behind you. You instinctively turn to view the source of the sound.

And there he is.

It’s your neighbor, pulling up an unlit cigarette to his lips as he walks to stand against the veranda railing for a smoke break. He wears gray shorts, his short-sleeved black shirt unbuttoned, with a full display of his upper body, abs and all. Wait, his abs? Chest? Oh my god, he’s basically naked.

He looks exactly like one of those dilf or daddy dom characters you read about in manga. Strong, commanding, and ridiculously hot. These men really do exist…

“Huh?” you end up saying out loud, which makes him look at you in confusion.

Fuck fuck fuck. What’s wrong with you? Eyeing your neighbor like this!? In a panic from being caught checking him out, you suddenly lean too far against the railing and feel yourself slowly falling off. Huh?!

You try to grab relentlessly at the air for some sort of hold as a last resort, but it’s useless.

Is this really it!?

You brace yourself, heart racing, but before you can comprehend what’s happening, a strong arm grabs you, pulling you back to safety. You find yourself pressed against someone’s chest, a strong male hand still gripping your arm firmly.

Holy fuck that scared you half to death!! When you turn your head, you see that it is your neighbor who saved you. What? How did he—? Before you can conjure up more questions, your eyes slowly look down and you are against his check. Holy shit… you never realized how broad he is. “Hey. You can move now,” he says, his voice deep and unamused. You nod, your face flushing with embarrassment as you quickly step back, putting some distance between the two of you. “O-Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to… um, fall.” Goddamn it, get it together, Y/N. “Thanks… you pretty much saved my life.” As you fully take a good look at him, you realize you had no idea he was hiding this hot ass body under those baggy t-shirts you always see him wear. But holy shit, he’s ripped. He may be some sex fiend, but no wonder he’s been getting all that action. You don’t realize you are still staring at him, frozen in your spot. But before he can say something, you hear another voice approaching.

“Hyung, when are you coming back inside?” A shorter male with a smaller build and blonde hair appears, his casual demeanor catching you off guard. Huh? A guy? “I’m just going to take a shower,” the guy continues, and this is when you notice he’s also shirtless. What?! “Sure, go ahead. I’ll head back inside after this smoke. Go on in,” your neighbor says nonchalantly, his gaze dropping briefly before returning to you.

No way… does he sleep with men too? Before you can unravel the tangled web of questions in your mind, your phone starts ringing. You check to see the caller ID is Taehyung.

"Hel–” “Hey! Y/N! Why aren’t you texting back?!” Taehyung interrupts, his voice loud and concerned. “Don’t tell me you went over to your neighbor’s place by yourself!” Fuck, not right now! “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about… Sh-Shut up…” You whisper aggressively, pleading to God that he gets the idea that you cannot be talking about this right now! “You’re the one that told me he’s a sleazy fuck boy that has sex with a different person every day!” Taehyung, oblivious to your situation, yells out. Did you mention you were on speaker? … oh.

Oh, fuck.

Without missing a beat and looking back, you hurriedly retreat inside your apartment. Despite not seeing his reaction, you could very well feel his eyes on you. Fuck…this is so embarrassing. Initially, it was just the sounds, and now this? This summer just got a whole lot more complicated. ╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚

After that day, you felt like you were in some kind of spy movie with the way you kept trying to avoid ever seeing the guy next door again. Every time you had to go outside, it was a mission of stealth and timing. Is he out there? Or is he not? You’ve tried to calculate and observe the times you’d hear him leave.

However, four days after the incident, as you walk out the door of your apartment, you find yourself face-to-face with him.

Shit.

There’s a long, awkward silence as you stare at each other before you finally break it.

“Uh, hello.”

No response. He slides a cigarette from the box and places it in his mouth, lighting it up and ignoring you as he looks out at the city, leaning against the railing. He’s on another smoke break, you say to yourself.

The way he can’t even casually say “hello” back to you just once? Be serious!

You groan, turn around, and decide to head to your old college library to get some more studying done before the LSAT in four days.

As you walk away, you catch a glimpse of him giving you a side glance before puffing out a cloud of smoke and sighing. ––––––––––––––––––––

On the day you got your LSAT results, the rain was so heavy that it felt like the raindrops could pierce through the walls of your rickety old apartment building.

The day when everything happened in a flash.

Coming home. Having to tell your mom you failed the LSAT. Having to tell her that you won’t be able to get into law school just yet. “Y/N, you graduated with honors from Seoul National University. There’s no need to be so disappointed just because you didn’t pass your law school exam.” She pleads, squeezing your hands. “You know I’m not asking for too much from you. All I want is for you to graduate from your university’s law school and become a prosecutor. That’s all I hope for, really.” This is pissing you off. She thinks that this is supposed to comfort you when it’s only adding to the pressure. “That’s all you hope for…?” you spat, words laced with bitterness, “You’re the one putting these burdens on me because you couldn’t be the one to do this.” “What…?”

Does she not get it? This was never your dream to begin with. All these years of studying, being the top student, going to the best university in the country, striving to get to law school… it wasn’t what you wanted to do at all. This was something your mom wanted for herself, but she couldn’t do because she got with your dad, gave it up and had you.

“You want me to live the life you would’ve had… for the rest of my life? I never asked for that!” You yell out, tears falling, frustration taking over.

You haphazardly put on your slide and leave out the front door with a slam, not giving your mother a moment to respond. However, she doesn’t chase after you. She stands there, stunned, only looking at the food and broken pieces of glass and plates that scatter your bedroom floor from the fight.

As if anything could make this worse, when you stand outside, you see your terrible and hot neighbor on a smoke break on the veranda. He turns when he hears your door automatically open and lock, then looks at you.

Dammit… He’s the last person you wanted to see you like this. You wipe your tears with your forearm, hoping that it’s not obvious that you’ve reached one of the lowest points in your whole life at the ripe age of 25. This is so fucking embarrassing.

“Hey, your face—” He begins, but you immediately scurry away down the stairs, out of the apartment complex. ╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ You run. And run. Running as far as your legs and your cheap worn-out slides could take you. As exhaustion overcomes you, you stop and glance around. Oh, you’re at a park down the street? You take a deep breath for the first time realizing you don’t know what you’re even trying to achieve. Ha…this is so stupid. You sigh, taking cover under a slide in the playground, shivering as you hug your knees. After the adrenaline rush goes away, your body is now noticing that you’re cold. It’s no wonder since you’re drenched in the rain. You realize your eyes are probably puffy too from the outburst earlier. Things are starting to come back to you.

As you sit there continuing to watch the rain pitter patter against the playground and the sand, you hear footsteps approaching you. When you look up, you see that it’s him. Your sex fiend hot ass neighbor, holding an umbrella.

Your tear ducts start flowing tears once again. “Y-You startled me…” You sniffle, rubbing your eyes with the palm of your hand. “What’re you just standing there for? If you came here to mock me, then go ahead and laugh all you want.” He looks down, seeing your clothes completely soaked. He notices that your white t-shirt has become transparent, letting him see your nipples perking out. Goddamit, he thinks, looking away. “Here.” He places the umbrella next to you, now covering you from the downpour and walks away. “Ah..” Your hand reaches out to his figure as he slowly moves further from you. Something about him calls out to you. You don’t know what, and you can’t explain it. Maybe you should follow him back home for now.

And you do.

You make it back to the apartment and up the stairs to the floor where the both of you live. As he unlocks his door and enters, you call out to him before the door can close. “Hey, wait…” Maybe you should go in and just give back his umbrella. Nah, you shouldn’t go into a stranger’s house. “Close the door if you’re not going to come in.” He calls to you from the inside.

And so, the door clunks shut, and now you’re inside. This is incredibly awkward. “To be honest, I didn’t think you were coming in,” he says, his voice low and slightly hoarse as he wipes his wet hair with a small towel. Droplets of rainwater cling to his skin, accentuating the contours of his jawline and the muscles in his arms. “Guess you changed your mind.”

“Well... I still had your umbrella, and... I can’t exactly go home right now,” you say carefully, fidgeting with your hands before crossing your arms under your breasts. His eyes flicker down for a moment, lingering on your figure before meeting yours again. “Could you lend me a towel, please?” you ask, shivering involuntarily as a chill runs down your spine.

He looks away, his expression unreadable, before sighing and handing you the towel he was just using. The fabric is warm from his body heat, and a faint scent of his cologne lingers on it. “Just use this to wipe yourself off.” Uh, why would he give me the one he was just using? And what’s with the sigh? “I don’t care if the floor gets wet, so you can go sit in the living room,” he suggests before walking into the bathroom, his figure disappearing behind the door. The sound of running water fills the air, mingling with the steady rhythm of the rain outside.

“Alrighty then…”

For the first time since entering his home, you take a moment to observe your surroundings. It’s a pretty ordinary looking small apartment...

No, it’s not. His kitchen table is riddled with bottles of soju and books lying around, their pages curled and yellowed with age. There’s laundry that has gotten stiff on the drying rack from who knows how long it has been there, giving the room a slightly musty smell.

You shouldn’t be so judgmental. It’s not like you live here anyway.

A better observation you note are the several paintings hanging up on the wall. Some look like contemporary Korean art pieces that you recognize from reading art books you enjoy during your free time. One is Sung Yeon-Woong’s “Korean People - I Love You,” 2022. The monochrome colors and bold strokes of the people embracing each other in the nude captivate your attention, momentarily drawing you in.

You’ve always liked art and wanted to pursue it, but those dreams were locked away when…

The illusion of being at an art museum fades, and you’re suddenly reminded of where you are when you feel your wet underwear sticking to you. It feels gross and icky, the fabric clinging uncomfortably to your skin.

You plop onto his living room floor, which you realize is also a makeshift gym area when you spot dumbbells of various weights beside you. The metal gleams dully under the soft glow of the overhead lights, a testament to their frequent use. Your hand moves against something and you notice a card on the floor. When you grab it, you realize what it is. His student ID card from Seoul National University?! He went to the College of Engineering? Or does he still go?

Woah? You’re from different departments, but it’s the same school. What the fuck… You had absolutely no idea. This is also the first moment you find out what his name is: Kim Namjoon.Bachelor’s DegreeCollege of EngineeringChemical Engineering Chemical engineering? He doesn’t look like one. Also why would he just leave his student ID lying around like this?

“Go and take a shower. I can’t have you catching a cold in my house,” Namjoon requests, coming out of the bathroom, his hair still damp from the shower. You slide his ID card back on the floor pretending you didn’t see anything. “Here, change into these clothes after.” “Oh, okay–” Your words are cut short when he throws a gray t-shirt and shorts on top of your head.

You can’t tell if he’s being nice or a complete jerk. When you walk into the bathroom and close the door, you finally notice in the mirror that you’re not wearing a bra.

“AHHHHHHH!” You scream internally over your stupidity and lack of rationality. How could you be this careless? How could you forget that you weren’t wearing a bra! Hold up, did Namjoon notice and not say a thing?! Oh god… This guy isn’t nice or a jerk. He’s a straight up sex machine. A fucking sex fiend pervert.

You can’t believe you just willingly stepped into a minefield. But wait! You can get out of here without any trouble so long as you keep your head straight.

Or not… you don’t have anywhere else to go. You don’t want to burden Tae with your shit. Sigh. Just be cautious Y/N and avoid eye contact as much as possible. You’ll get through this! After your shower and change of clothes, you walk out of the bathroom and see him on his futon bed sipping his beer and watching a variety show on his laptop. You plop down next to him, trying to pretend all is normal, but it’s not. Shit, this is still awkward. How can you become less aware of the situation you’re in? You notice an unopened beer can on his table and crawl over to grab it. Oh! This can work. He’s not going to mind, right? When you do that, Namjoon notices your exposed crotch in the loose shorts he gave you and begins choking on his beer. He can’t believe you didn’t put on your wet underwear again and are just walking around bare like that. Huh? What’s up with him... you think, confused, but not surprised. You crack it open and take a few sips.

You know what, everything will be fine if you keep a clear head. Clear thoughts. Clear mind.

Yeah, you can do that.

╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚

She hasn't even finished her beer and already looks out of it, Namjoon thinks to himself, sighing. He reaches over and takes the beer can from your hand. “Hey, you’ve had enough to drink,” he says firmly. “I’ll get you some blankets, so just lie—”

“Honestly... It’s partially your fault...” you interrupt, your voice slurring slightly as you crawl over to him, suddenly pushing him onto the bed. Your movements are unsteady, but you manage to straddle him, arms planted on either side of his head. “...that I flunked my exam.” Namjoon is caught off guard by your sudden action, his eyes wide with surprise. He stares up at you, at a loss for words. “What the hell are you talking about? What did I do?” Namjoon asks, his confusion evident. “What are you on about? Why are you suddenly acting crazy.” “Get off m—”

“Is it fun... to live the way you do?” you interrupt, your tone dripping with a mix of sass and bitterness.

“What?” “If it’s that exciting... then can you show me how to live like you?” Your hands move to his chest, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath his shirt.

“What exactly are you saying?” Namjoon grabs your right arm, but you swat it away.

“Well, you seem so carefree, and all you ever do is sleep with different people every day.” You scoff, your frustration bubbling over. Namjoon chuckles, a humorless sound, as he grabs your wrists and effortlessly flips you over, pinning you beneath him. Now, you’re the one looking up at him from the bed, stunned and embarrassed, and suddenly sobered up.

“I don’t know what’s going through that head of yours, but what makes you think you can say that when you don’t know anything about me?” His words are laced with annoyance. “And just to be clear, I have no reason to sit here and listen to you judge me, no matter what I do. If you’re so unhappy with your life, then do whatever you want. No one’s forcing you to live that way.”

You tremble slightly, anger and humiliation mixing as you look away. “You don’t know anything!”

You smack his chest with your fists, but he doesn’t flinch. “Figures you wouldn’t understand since you do whatever the hell you want all the time!”

Namjoon sighs, clearly reaching the end of his patience. “Does this seem like the home of someone who’s content and living life on their own terms, to you?” He gestures around the room, his hands clenching the sheets beneath you. You have nothing else to combat his question with, so you pout and look away. Namjoon’s not going to let you get what you want though, and grabs your jaw to turn you to face him again. “Fine. If you really want to know, then I’ll show you.”

Keeping you pinned, Namjoon leans in, his lips inches from yours.

Your heart races, and you freeze in place. You’ve never kissed anyone before in your life. But before you can feel his mouth against yours, he notices you flinch and decides to pull back, creating distance between you once again.

“You know what? You should just leave.” He chuckles, feeling the ridiculousness of the situation he’s found himself in. “Haha.. What was I thinking? There’s no way I’m doing anything like that with someone like you.”

Before he has the chance to get off from straddling you, your hands grab at his shirt and push him forward.

“W-Why am I the one who has to live like this?” You start to hiccup, tears streaming down your face once again. Why are you being like this? How many times have you cried today?

“What’re you talking about? Let go.”

This only makes you pull him even closer. “And you!! Why did you stop?! Why? Man, woman, old, young! I know you’ll sleep with anyone... so why not me?”

“The hell are you talking about?! I told you to let go!” He grabs at your wrists, trying to remove their grasp on his shirt gently. “You just… you just feel sorry for me… I know I may not be good enough. I might be a lousy daughter, not as conventionally attractive as other girls, and I’m painfully aware of my shortcomings just as a member of society… but still!”

“You’re driving me nuts here…”

“Fuck… it’s not like I want to live this way.” You cover your eyes with your forearm, sobbing.

“You’re fine as you are,” Namjoon says softly, the gentlest thing he’s said all day.

“What did you say?”

“I mean you’re good enough. In fact, you’re plenty good enough, okay? So stop crying and let go of my shirt, please.” He says, gently grabbing hold of your chin.

“Then... do you want to have sex with me as well?” Your face reddens, asking boldly.

Namjoon internally fights with himself, thinking about what he’s even supposed to do with you.

“Yeah, I do. Just not today,” he answers.

You turn your head to the side. “Liar. You don’t want to have sex with me.”

“I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret,” he tells you honestly, looking into your eyes.

You glare at him, and for the hundredth time today, he sighs.

“Okay, fine, fine. Let’s do it,” he declares.

“Wait..Really...?”

He looks at you, seeing your innocent expression. “You better not come crying to me afterward.”

Namjoon takes his shirt off, revealing his whole upper body in full view. His skin glistens slightly in the dim light, each muscle defined and firm.

“I’m saying this because it seems like you’re completely misunderstanding the situation, but I’ve already told you ‘no’ like a hundred times.”

You look at him, dazed, mesmerized by his pecs and defined abdominal muscles. As he nears closer to you, you think he’s actually going to kiss you this time, until he moves down, licking your collarbones. His hand squeezes your breasts

And I held back at least ten times, he thinks inwardly.

His right hand lifts the t-shirt, your breast coming into full view, jiggling from the action.

You’re the one that kept provoking me, so this is partly on you.

“Mmph..ah..” You moan out, and quickly cover your mouth.

“What’re you doing?” “Well, they can hear me moan next door…” You say, muffled. Namjoon looks at you as if you’re insane, “Your voice won’t carry through these walls that easily unless you let out a scream.” “Oh..” “Be honest. You were eavesdropping by pressing your ear to the wall, weren’t you?” He begins questioning.

Fuck.

He continues, “Unless there’s another pervert like you living in this building, then you don’t have to worry. No one will hear a thing.”

Oh. This changes everything, actually.

Namjoon suddenly turns you over, removing your shorts and pulling your ass up. “Y-You didn’t have to do that so suddenly! Or you could’ve at least turned the lights off..”

Namjoon stares blankly at your naked figure, then slowly rustles his hands in his shorts to put on an unopened condom he had lying.

“W-What are you doing?”

Is this what you think it is? I’ve only seen them in comics…

What… holy shit..

“W-Wait!” You move away towards the wall.

“What now?” Namjoon groans, but then you leaned back up and start observing the large cock that he just pulled out from his shorts.

Are they normally this big? But then again, you remember reading and watching hentai where the bottom characters struggle to take in a large penis… “Do you want to suck me off?” He looks down at you, overshadowing you as you appear small and curious.

Do I? Should I?

Your tongue peeps out and gives it one lick. Oh. Oh no. Oh god, that tasted gross. You start to cough and gag.

“Don’t you think it’s a little rude to gag like that when you’re giving someone a blowjob?”

“Then how do you expect me to react? The rubber tastes super weird! Have you tried liking one of these? Of course you haven’t!”

“It’s a condom, it’s supposed to taste like that. What, did you think it was going to taste like vanilla?”

“So you DO know what it tastes like…”

“Why would I? You know what? Forget it, what would I expect from you?” He leans forward and pushes you down on the bed again. He lifts your legs up in the air and settles in between them.

“W-What’re you doing?!”

“What do you think? You keep getting distracted. I’m helping you concentrate” He spreads you open on his tongue and licking every sensitive dip and corner he can reach. His tongue is warm and firm no matter where he licks, and only softens up when he goes to lick a flat stripe up your slit, essentially sucking up all of the wet you’re offering him and savoring it through whimpered groans at the way your legs attempt to squeeze around his head.

“Ah.. no! Wait! This is way too embarrassing..”

He pays no attention and continues at his task.

He knew you’d taste good but this is on a whole other level. He can’t help it when he grips your thighs and spreads your legs out further, and he certainly can’t help himself when he prods his tongue into you, trying to taste more of what you have to offer.

“Ah!” You can feel his tongue dipping in, and the way he grips your thighs renders you nearly useless if you were to try and wiggle away, not that you’d ever want to but it almost tickles with how good it feels. Your legs begin to shake in his grasp, and he only spreads them further at that, tilting his head at an angle to suck and lick into you even deeper.

“I kinda figured you weren’t all that into this because you kept going on about stuff like how the condom tastes and feeling embarrassed. But you’re getting so wet I guess you are a little turned on…”

“That’s enough,” You sigh out, reaching down frantically to hold his head in place so that you can grind your hips forward against his stiffened tongue.

“Yeah. Since, both you and me… are getting impatient…” Namjoon’s fingers are instantly at your entrance, sliding in so easily that it nearly makes you forget that you even told him to do it. His fingers are slender, and each joint on the digits are felt against your aching and gripping walls. The sounds of squelching only turn you on even more. “We might as well cut to the chase.”

He takes out his fingers, now moving them to hold his length. “This, might hurt a little.”

You look at him puzzled before you gasp, feeling a sudden pressure from beneath you. “Huh!? W-Wait, it won’t go in! I said it won’t go in!” Your handle trembles, grabbing onto the bedsheets harshly.

“It already is.”

No way.

“Ah… wait, really? It’s all the way in…?”

It has to be all the way in. It’s feeling really tight right now and you can’t imagine how the whole thing can’t be inside. You glance down at your cunt, seeing the point where you and him connect. Oh.

“No. Not all the way in.” He scratches his head. “You can tell me anything if you’re feeling too tired or just wanna call it quits. And I’ll stop.”

Arrogant little…

“I have no idea what you’re talking about! I’m totally fine! I can’t even feel you inside me…”

There, the two of you look at each other for a brief moment before you feel him suddenly start to thrust forward again, sliding his cock further into your drenched core. You let out a whimper.

Then, giving you no time to adjust to his whole size, he takes his cock out and quickly pulls you up and spreads you into doggy style, pinning your hands behind him. Without warning, he roughly thrusts into you, feeling yourself being split apart by his huge, thick cock.

“Ah! Ungh…F-Fuck!” You moan, tears beginning to prick from overstimulation. His hips thrust brutally against your own at a set rhythmic pace, pulling almost all the way out before ruthlessly drilling back into you, it would probably be more painful if it wasn’t for your dripping arousal creating your very own lube and his fat cock hitting the right spot with every thrust.

“I thought. You said. You were. Fine?” He thrusts repeatedly, with each word being punctuated by a thrust.

He comes to a slow stop and you don’t respond, your lips agape as you remain stuck in a euphoric daze from how good this pleasure feels. You’ve never done this before. You’ve only read it in literature, watch it from hentai… but holy shit, does the real thing not compare.

“You’re making so much noise, I bet the whole neighborhood knows we’re going at it.” Namjoon whispers in your ear with a teasing tone.

Fuck!? You immediately cover your mouth and turn to face him, which makes Namjoon chuckle at your cute behavior, grabbing your hand. “No one’s actually gonna hear us with the rain pounding like this”, he thinks internally.

Namjoon takes this opportunity to switch positions and place you on top of him. You sit there with your legs on either side. Glancing down, you notice that his cock is still hard and it rubs against your clit, making you more and more impatient for him to keep on fucking you.

He moves you forward a bit and raises your hips so he can line your entrance with his tip. For Namjoon, he needed to see you come undone. He deserved it after all the nonsense you kept scolding him about. And there’s nothing more satisfying than the moan you let out when the tip is in. His cock stretches you out once again, filling you in all the right areas, making you pant and whine from the girth. He grunts as you sink further down his cock. His hands grip your ass, pushing his cock in deeper and deeper before pulling back up, all in a rhythmic motion. The sheer tightness of his grip on your ass was sure to leave bruises tomorrow, but he was the last person to care.

You gasp when he lifts you up, almost pulling out with only his tip still inside, before bringing you down and slamming back into your cunt. A loud moan exits your lips and you throw your head back from the static of pleasure that shoots through your body. You grip his biceps in an attempt to ground yourself, your manicured nails dug into his skin and leave long scratches.

“Ah!!” You scream as the squelching and thumps get louder, making your pussy tighten around him even more. “Ungh, ah! W-Wait! I feel strange–!”

What is this feeling?! Is it what you think it is... It’s only with one more thrust hitting your cervix that leads you to your answer.

“F-Fuck…daddy!” As if on cue, the knot that had been building in your stomach pops, and your orgasm came crashing down on you. Your cunt clenches around his cock and your mouth flies open in a silent scream, thick and clear cum gushing on his cock.

Namjoon is surprsied by you using the word ‘daddy’, but continues at his ministrations, licking against your chest now and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth as you shake amid your orgasm. You continue your strong hold on his shoulders.

“Agh… I want you to stop squeezing so tightly.” He slowly holds you up and removes his dick from inside you. He removes his condom and discards it in the nearby bin.

“Huh? What did you say…? You want me to what?” You’re completely out of it, your mind fogged by the sex, and perhaps some remnants of alcohol. “Kiss you?”

“Huh? No, that’s not what I—” Namjoon starts to protest, but before he can finish, you gently grab his chin and press your lips against his.

The kiss catches him off guard. Your lips are soft and hesitant, trembling slightly. Namjoon’s initial shock gives way to a moment of stillness, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts. For a brief second, he almost kisses you back, but then he pulls away, his hands firmly but gently pushing you back.

“Holy shit, that was my first kiss…” you murmur, panic setting in. “I can’t believe it’s with some older guy like you!”

Namjoon sighs, exhaling sharply. “You’re not even trying to hide it, huh?” He gently grabs your cheeks, squishing them with his hand. “I figured as much, so I was trying to be considerate. And then you went and kissed me first.”

“If that’s what you were thinking, then you should’ve just told—”

“Too late for that,” he interrupts, taking his turn to kiss you. This time, he doesn’t hold back, shoving his tongue inside your mouth. The kiss is intense and demanding, catching you completely off guard.

Your mind blanks out, every thought drowned by the sensation of his lips and tongue moving against yours. His hands move to the back of your head, tangling in your hair, pulling you closer. You can’t help but moan softly into the kiss, the sound swallowed by his mouth.

Namjoon’s kiss is forceful, almost punishing, as if he’s trying to prove a point. You can feel the frustration and desire in every movement, in the way his hands grip your hair, in the way his tongue explores your mouth with a fervent urgency. You try to keep up, but your inexperience makes it hard, and you end up just following his lead, letting him control the kiss.

When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing heavily. His eyes are dark, filled with a mix of emotions you can’t quite decipher. “There,” he says, his voice rough. “Now you know. Your first kiss isn’t something to take lightly. Understand?”

You nod, still trying to catch your breath, your heart pounding in your chest. The room feels like it’s spinning, and you’re starting to feel more sleepy as the seconds pass.

Namjoon sighs again, softer this time, and releases your cheeks, his fingers trailing down to your neck. “Just… think things through before you act next time, alright?”

You nod again, feeling a strange mix of embarrassment and exhilaration. This wasn’t how you imagined your first kiss, but something about it feels right, even if you can’t fully understand why.

He leans back, giving you some space, and you both sit in silence for a moment, the weight of what just happened hanging in the air.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice gentler now, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress.

“Yeah,” you whisper, still trying to process everything. “I think so.”

“Good,” he says, leaning back against the headboard. “We can talk more in the morning. For now, just get some rest.”

You nod, feeling a strange sense of relief wash over you. Despite everything, you feel safe with him, and that’s enough for now. As you lie down beside him, the exhaustion of the day finally catches up with you, and you drift off to sleep, the taste of his kiss still lingering on your lips.

╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ “I… uh, I’ll wash these clothes and return them to you later,” you say to Namjoon as he walks you to his door. The hallway outside his apartment is dimly lit, casting long shadows that dance across the walls.

“...Don’t. You can keep them or, better yet, throw them away.” His voice is calm, yet firm, as if he’s making a point.

“Um, okay. If you say so. Then I guess I’ll do whatever I want with them. Thanks for letting me stay over. And I’m sorry for saying and assuming things about you.” You glance up at him, feeling the weight of your earlier accusations hang between you.

“The assumptions you made about me being a sex fiend when it was just me inviting my friends over for a gym workout?” He arches an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“What?!” Your eyes widen in shock. Holy shit… were those groans actually grunts from them heavy-lifting those dumbbells and workout gear in the living room? It can’t be. It had to have been something else, right? “Are you being serious?!”

Namjoon chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that makes your cheeks burn. “I’ll see you around, girl next door.” You groan at him shooing you away.

“It’s Y/N...”

“Alright, Y/N,” he says, his eyes meeting yours with a knowing glint.

You realize he still hasn’t told you his name, but you already know it. You nod awkwardly and step back, your mind still reeling from his revelation. As you turn to leave, you hear the door click shut behind you. The rain has stopped, and the cool morning air feels refreshing against your flushed skin. You stand there for a moment, processing everything that’s happened. How the fuck can you go back to your regular life after that? Even Namjoon must think it’s insane that he just got tangled up with his younger neighbor.

You’ve both completely gone nuts.

a/n: ahhhhh the fic made it out of my brain! wow. i had read this webtoon last week right before rpwp came out and i thought how the male character was lowkey namjoon coded. and then when i heard nuts... oh you know i just had to cook this up! though i would like to add that the webtoon i based this off of goes in a completely different direction with different several plot elements added, and it's still ongoing, so this was just inspo from the first 4 chapters. thank you all for the support and for reading!

➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist for future works! ➸ check out one of my current ongoing fic series "love u lately"

#bts #bts fic #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #namjoon smut #namjoon fic #smut #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts smut #fanfic #fanfiction #kpop

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superprincesspea · 9 hours

Text

Courted by the Dragon

Chapter 16 - Uncle

Aemond Targaryen is both the cause and witness to the greatest humiliation of your life. You would rather die than see him again. Yet summer at court and the precipice of civil war have other ideas.

Masterlist

~~~

When you make it into the centre of camp, you can still feel the press of Aemond’s touch on your body, and the heat of his kiss on your cheek, but there’s no time to slow your racing heart. The wheelhouse is already coming to a halt and the groom is hurrying to open the door.

Your mother emerges first, her face seemingly horrified by your tousled appearance, as she rushes to smooth your hair and pull a stray pin from where its clinging on for life.

“Just look at the state of you!” she hisses, and you wonder if your cheeks look as flushed as they feel.

“I think her appearance is quite becoming,” Alicent says, emerging from behind your mother’s frown with a coy smirk before she glances around for the whereabouts of her son.

“It was the wind,” you say, pushing your hair behind your ears while knowing fine well that the wind wasn’t the only thing which had tangled with it. There had been fingers, long, deft, and impossibly gentle.

Perhaps Alicent suspects as much, her head tilting, regarding your appearance with more scrutiny than before.

“Was it not the race?” she counters, and you swallow fresh nerves, wondering if everyone in the wheelhouse had noticed the way you and Aemond had charged down the road.

“That too...” you admit, and she hooks her arm into yours, tugging you into a leisurely walk towards her tent.

So much for staying with Cassandra , you think, glancing over your shoulder to where your mother and sisters are being left behind.

“And who won the race?” Alicent says, drawing your attention back to her face.

“I did, your grace.”

“Ahh,” she smiles excitedly, holding you tighter, her cheek touching your shoulder for just a moment, “and was my son an insufferable loser?”

You laugh, despite the nerves knotting in your stomach, you can’t help it. Insufferable was certainly a choice word for her second son, and though you think her completely accurate in her estimation, you dare not say it.

“Or is he just always insufferable?” she presses, seeming to sense your reluctance, and this time you manage to contain your amusement to a smile, though you’re feeling more at ease in her company.

“Perhaps we can agree that all men are at least a little insufferable?” you suggest, and now it's the queens turn to laugh, her body shaking, her arm holding you tighter.

“Only a little?” she says when she’s caught her breath, and you meet the mischievous look in her eye with a small smile before she releases your arm and gestures for you to enter the royal tent.

It's far bigger than it looks from the outside, and so bright and airy, with the sunlight diffused through the thick white linen and a pleasant breeze blowing in at just the right angle.

You take a seat on one of the green velvet floor cushions and Alicent sits across from you, before beckoning for a maid who places two cups on the low table and fills them almost to the brim with a honey-coloured wine.

“You know... you can tell me everything ,” she says in a hushed tone when the maid has gone, and you think it strange to gossip with the queen about such things as suitors, stranger still that her son is the man in question.

What could you possibly say? What did she want to hear?

You let those questions go unanswered for long enough that Alicent speaks again.

“I noticed you were riding Ōños,” she suggests, still trying to draw you into the conversation she wants to have, and her eyes are wide and probing, desperate for any scraps of information.

“I was.”

“Strange ,” she continues, undeterred by your lacklustre answer, “I don’t believe my son has ever allowed anyone else to ride his horse.”

“Then I should consider myself quite fortunate. Ōños is truly a wonderful horse.”

“If he is wonderful then it is thanks to Aemond, my son is so diligent in all matters as I'm sure you must have realised by now?”

“Prince Aemond is certainly...” single-minded, cocky, competitive, “ dedicated .”

She blows out a small breath of satisfaction, seeming glad to imagine that you might see him as she does. Her golden boy, her perfect son.

“He told me you almost beat him at Cyvasse the other day,” she smiles, delighted by the idea, and you try not to laugh. The last game you’d played with Aemond had been in his room, and he was letting you win, not succumbing to it.

“That is an exaggeration,” you insist, wondering what else Aemond might have mentioned to his mother.

Yet, her lips purse, and from the way she sighs, you imagine he has said as little as you are saying now, and you don’t know why, but you feel the sudden urge to reveal more. Maybe it's the way her eyes turn down or because, no matter the people surrounding her, she always seems so lonely.

“The prince...” you begin and already you regret your words, but you can’t stop now, “was so kind as to give me a tour of the library yesterday.”

“He did?” she brightens, “and what did you think?”

“That it was very beautiful.”

“And where you will always find my son, if you should ever have cause to look for him...” she leans forward, seeming to forget decorum in favour of answers, “ do you? Have cause to look for him I mean?”

“Not that I can recall,” you say, feeling certain that Aemond was not the only single-minded member of his house.

“Do you picnic here often?” you ask, changing the subject and Alicent’s eyes turn wistful, her gaze wandering across the camp.

“I used to bring my children here all the time when they were small, away from court where they could just be . It's so wonderful seeing Jaehaerys and Jaehaera here now.”

You turn your head, to look where she looks, and find them charging across the clearing with their wooden swords and shields clutched tightly in hand. But it's the determination furrowed into their brows which really catches your eye, and they seem to have only one opponent in mind when he strides from the woods- Aemond .

Your heart skips, your cheeks flushing again as you watch the kindly way he reacts to their advance. Dodging their strikes, his laughter teasing but not mocking, before he scoops Jaehaera up, stealing her sword and using it to repel her brother.

You watch them play for quite some time, content in the silence before the queen speaks again.

“If a lady might wish to stay at court...there is always ample space in my retinue.”

“That is very kind of you,” you admit, turning to face her, “but I am still very much looking forward to returning home.”

“Oh? And what, might I ask, is there to look forward to?” she pries, sipping her wine, her brow raised, “a suitor , perhaps?”

“Well... there is…” no suitor at all, only Lord Henry, but you could not tell the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms that you would rather return home to a cat instead of marrying her son, “my other sisters, of course.”

“Of course.” She stares at you for a long moment, her finger brushing the patten embossed on the cup, “so many Baratheon girls and not one proposal this summer? Your mother must be beside herself.”

“Not really,” you choke, glancing down to retrieve your own cup from the table and, when you look back at the Queen, her eyes have narrowed, as though she’s trying desperately to read your mind.

“I think my son-” she begins, just as the man in question arrives, chased by the excited war cries of his niece and nephew and, for once, you’re grateful for his overbearing presence, and the very welcomed distraction from whatever she was going to say next.

He falls on the rug dramatically and, from the queen's easy smile, you can tell this is not an unusual circumstance when the only eyes in the vicinity are that of family and very close friends.

“By order of the Queen, I command you to tickle him to death,” she says, and the twins cast their weapons down in fits of giggles, little fingers reaching for all the good tickle spots while you cannot possibly stop yourself from enjoying every single moment of the spectacle.

This was certainly not the Aemond you knew and loathed.

Yet , the more you thought about it, the more you realised that wasn’t true at all. Not anymore.

This was the Aemond who belonged entirely to the people who knew him best, and perhaps that number was limited to less than a handful, and maybe all of them were in this tent.

“Won’t my lady save me from these hellions?” he says, repelling their onslaught with so much gentleness and good humour that your poor heart was skipping yet again.

“I am afraid his grace is on his own, for I can see they are far too fierce to be trifled with,” you say, as though you are completely aghast at the suggestion.

“You are quite right,” Alicent agrees and Jaehaerys seems to enjoy your words, his chest puffing out before he retrieves his sword to deal the final killing blow to his uncle’s ribs.

You wince when it lands, knowing it must hurt terribly and that the winded groan is certainly not part of the game. But Aemond doesn’t shout or curse like your father would, he dies on the rug with more drama than he had fallen, and you must stifle your laughter with the palm of your hand.

Victorious, the children leave, in pursuit of a fresh victim while the queen prods her son back to life.

“I think you enjoy that even more than they do,” she says, and you suspect she might be right.

“I’m merely teaching them how to fight without mercy,” Aemond decides, his eye betraying the serious tone in his voice, as he sits up on his elbow with his hair ruffled from rolling around on the floor.

“Well, since you are in such a good mood for teaching, perhaps you’d like to show the Lady Baratheon how to play hoops?” Alicent suggests, scheming again.

“As it happens,” Aemond begins, a slow smile inching onto his lips, “I seem to be forgetting that I should be staying at least twenty paces from the lady Baratheon, that was the original agreement, was it not?”

You swallow, hard, remembering the details of your alternative agreement, the one where Aemond’s clothes had loosened from his body and your back had been pushed up against a tree.

But Alicent knows no such things and her excited stare flicks between yourself and her son.

“Twenty paces?” she asks quizzically and you’re suddenly wishing the twins really had run him through.

“It was a bet, your grace,” you say, giving Aemond a sharp look, a warning look.

“A forfeit, actually ,” he retorts, the smile still firmly fixed on his face.

“But why twenty paces?” Alicent prods, far too interested in the details, while your heart is pounding far too hard to think of anything good to say. Certainly not the truth.

That you cannot trust yourself with her son. That even now, when you feel like you might kill him for bringing up the forfeit, you’re more annoyed about the consequences. Because you don't want him to leave, not really. Then again, you don’t exactly want him to stay either.

It didn’t make sense, and you couldn’t explain it even to your own mind, but you needed Aemond Targaryen to be both twenty paces away and close enough to touch at the same time.

Gods , you hated him.

“I cannot speak for the ladies precise reasoning,” Aemond begins when it's clear you’re not going to say anything , and the wicked look in his eye is keen to make a fresh appearance, “but I believe she wishes to prevent any further attempts I might make in asking her to be my wife.”

“Further... attempts?” Alicent gasps, wanting to be certain she was hearing him correctly and she was. You'd heard it too.

Why had he said that? Like it was nothing, like it was just something people said.

“At least one more attempt,” he promises, pushing himself from the floor, his bow deep, and his eye only for you.

Then, without another word, he takes his leave, sauntering across the clearing for exactly twenty paces yet not nearly far enough considering how much you want to kill him!

Yet , killing him would have to wait and not just because of the witnesses milling around the clearing or even the way Alicent’s eyes are hot on your face. But because you can’t move or even breathe. Your mouth is hanging open and shock has drained all life from your limbs.

“Hm,” Alicent says, a smile completely overwhelming her face, “so it seems there has been at least one proposal this summer?”

Gods , you feel as though you could die from embarrassment, but you don’t, and you can’t exactly ignore the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

“Please ,” your voice is as weak as a kitten, your cheeks as bright as the dragon on the Targaryen sigil, “excuse me.”

She holds your stare, your stomach twisting with fresh knots before she nods with a small, pitying smile, “you’re excused. For now. ”

You can’t dwell on what exactly she means by that, and you don’t want to. You stand on shaky legs and do what you should have done when the wheelhouse arrived in camp.

You walk directly to Cassandra and cling to her side, feeling a heady mix of fury and anticipation each time you catch sight of Aemond, and recall the casual way he’d told his mother that he intended on proposing again .

It was yet another humiliation to add to your repertoire, and for a man who had no intention of ever embarrassing you, he was certainly well adapted to it.

You’re glad when it's time to leave and find yourself watching, with some regret, as Aemond races ahead of the procession with Ser Criston Cole, leaving you to travel with Ser Maurin as your only company.

You’d like to say it didn’t matter, that the views were entertainment enough, but you’d be lying. The ride is hot, long and incredibly dusty. Its nearly teatime when you finally make it back to the Red Keep and there is so much fanfare and chaos to mark your arrival that you’re almost certain something has happened while you were away.

The yard is crammed with people, double the amount from this morning and one of them is Otto Hightower, his face stark and serious as he waits to speak with his daughter.

Trying not to stare, you encourage Ōños towards the stable and you’re surprised to see Aemond is waiting for you, resting against a post with a book to occupy his time.

“I trust you enjoyed the ride home?” he says, looking up from the page before snapping the heavy cover shut.

With a sigh, you swipe the back of your hand across your forehead and give him a pointed look. “You know I didn’t.”

He smiles then, easing the book under his arm before opening the stable gate, and you wonder if Aemond’s the reason there are no stable boys or groomsmen to attend you.

“I did as you bid me to and remained at twenty paces for the duration of the picnic,” he says, swapping Ōños’ bridle for a halter and you have to admit, you were somewhat surprised that he’d managed to maintain his end of the forfeit, and less surprised when he reaches to pull you from the horse.

“Now we shall need to make up for it,” he says but you’d anticipated his touch and are quick to dismount on the opposite side to where he is standing with his arms still outstretched.

“His grace seems to be implying that I missed his company. I must assure him, I did not .”

When he laughs, the sound catches in the back of his throat, his arms falling back to his sides. “Then perhaps you’ll be glad to hear we had some guests arrive while we were at leisure.”

You think of the chaos in the yard along with the grave look on Otto’s face. “Who?”

“My sister.”

“Princess Rhaenyra?” you say, not really a question, more the testing of a name which you’ve rarely had cause to speak until now.

“One and the same,” Aemond answers, his tone flat, as he unbuckles Ōños’ saddle before passing you a long brush to brush him down.

A dozen questions spring to the tip of your tongue but you swallow them, suddenly recalling the knowing smirks which Alicent had been aiming at you all afternoon.

Still, it wasn’t Ōños’ fault that his master was the worst man in the entire world, so you don’t throw the brush back at Aemond like you’re tempted to do, you run it across Ōños’ silky white coat with the reverence he deserves.

Afterall, it wasn’t often you were expected to put away your own horse, but there was something strangely relaxing about the mundanity of the task, and you wonder if Aemond thinks it too.

He’s quiet, perhaps even a little pensive, as he inspects Ōños’ shoes before finding another brush so you can work together, and it's a comfortable silence. The hubbub of the courtyard barely carrying past the stable doors.

“I shall be eating dinner with my… family this evening. I don’t suppose you would care to join us?”

“Me?” you scoff. “I’m quite certain I would rather-” you don't say more, you meet his eye, ashamed of your reaction. Dinner with the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms was a great honour even if you didn’t want it.

“You’d rather what ?” he moves so he can search your face more readily, “throw yourself from the tallest tower of the keep instead of breaking bread with my sister and her bastards?”

Bastards?

You inhale sharply, your mind stumbling over the word and Aemond let’s its usage swell in the silence, his eye still studying you. Testing you in some way. Perhaps he wants you to challenge him, to call him a traitor, but you don’t. You’re afraid of even hearing such a word.

“Personally, I would rather throw myself into the mercy of the sea,” he admits, and his voice is soft, his fingers reaching to touch your hair, but you move away, thrusting the brush back into his hand.

Just because you harbour no wish to speak ill of his sister, does not mean you have no wish to speak on other matters, “do not think for one moment that I have already forgotten what you said in front of your mother!”

“What I said?” he asks, tilting his head as though he is completely oblivious, when you’re almost certain Aemond could count on one hand the amount of time’s he’d been oblivious to anything.

“You know what I’m talking about.” Marriage, proposals. It was not the sort of thing a person could easily forget.

Amusement flickers in his eye, “refresh my memory.”

“I will not,” you snap, attempting to leave him behind as you exit the stable, but there’s really no escaping Aemond Targaryen’s long stride, and he’s soon hooking his hand under your elbow.

“If you will not tell me of your complaint Lady Baratheon then please allow me to make you a promise...”

You glance back at him, regretting your curiosity the moment his eye darkens.

“Starting now,” he begins, leaning in as though you are conspiring, “it will be no secret that I want you, no matter who is watching us and, when you have my child in your belly, there will be no question over his parentage.”

No question over his parentage?

“There shall certainly be questions,” you retort tartly, snatching your arm away, “such as what in the world I was thinking in allowing you to put it there in the first place.”

“I can suggest at least one reason,” he says, and you hate his stupid arrogant smirk just as much as you wonder what the exact details of that one reason would be. But not enough to ask him, certainly not enough for that.

Instead, you turn back towards the keep and see a man stalking towards you, a stranger, yet you’re in little doubt of his pedigree. Even if it wasn’t for the white hair crowning his head, there’s a certain devilish cockiness which rests so comfortably on his face that you cannot help but think of Aemond. Just older, more battle worn, yet not worn out.

Almost all the women in the yard are watching the way he strides and perhaps it’s because his leather trousers are indecently tight, his shirt billowing in all the places where it doesn’t plaster to his skin.

You imagine he must have been practicing swordplay in the yard for quite some time, and the sword in question is still swinging in his hand, long and dangerous, steel glinting in the sunlight.

“This is my uncle, Prince Daemon,” Aemond says, when he comes to stand directly in front of you, “and this is my Lady Baratheon.”

“Your grace,” you curtsy, and Daemon sinks the tip of his sword into the dirt at your feet, his eyes slowly scraping from your face and down the entire length of your body as though he’s appraising every last inch.

“Well done, nephew,” he smirks, his gaze flicking to meet with Aemond’s and you gasp at the audacity in his tone, your temper flaring when Aemond says nothing to refute him.

In fact, when you tilt your head to glare at him, Aemond’s smiling as though he relishes his uncle's approval. As though the many weeks he’d spent tormenting you was, indeed , very well done.

“Do not allow my presence to interrupt whatever passionate conversation you were having,” Daemon adds, leaning into his sword, his brow raised and his head tilting expectantly.

You open your mouth to speak, to refute whatever ideas he might be having, but before any words break free, you feel Aemond’s hand on your back, the press of his fingers dulled by your cloak but impossible to ignore.

“I was just telling my lady that I shall escort her back to her chambers,” he says, his arm sliding to command yours and you don’t refuse him, doing so would surely be a humiliation on his part and you’re not cruel enough for that.

You dip into another curtsy for his uncle and allow Aemond to lead you away, stopping only when the yard is far from view, your arm hastening from his.

“I shall be glad to escort myself the rest of the way.”

“Very well,” Aemond concedes, his hand’s fastening behind his back, his head gesturing down the hall without complaint.

You start, both confused and surprised by how readily he’d allowed the rejection of his company, but you don’t question it.

You turn, thinking you should be pleased with the situation yet finding yourself quite vexed. And why? You certainly didn’t want Aemond Targaryen to escort you.

Or did you?

No , what you wanted was, in some ways, far worse. You wanted Aemond to want it enough to ignore your own stubborn resolve, and you couldn’t understand that desire any more than you could understand why you desperately wanted him to kiss you.

You begin to walk, cursing every part of your mind which seemed to be succumbing to his infuriating set of charms, and you barely make it more than five paces, before his steps have fallen in time with yours. Not by your side as before, but behind as though you were his lady and he your humble servant.

Stopping, you turn back to face him, “what are you doing?”

Resting back on his heel, Aemond seems to give great thought to the question before answering with a shrug as though it was quite obvious, “ walking .”

“But your room is in that direction,” you say, pointing back down the hall and a smile threatens his cheeks, his jaw tightening just enough to hold it at bay.

“I’m not going to my room, but I’m glad to know my lady has memorised its location.”

“Do not flatter yourself,” you say, quickly turning to hide your own smile, which has escaped, quite inexplicably, onto your face.

Then you begin to walk again, and a tall, leather shadow mirrors your every step. Not at all rebuffed by your stubborn resolve, but diligent, single-minded, and you can hardly stand yourself for how much you enjoy it. Or how forlorn you feel when you reach the door to your chamber, and he turns away.

~~~

Thank you for reading!! :)

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #romance #female reader #enemies to lovers #aemond targaryen x oc #prince aemond #slow burn

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calaisreno · 1 day

Text

Nobody

663 Words / Prompt: Hero

No one ever calls John Watson amazing. As far as he can recall, no one has ever said he was extraordinary.

His father laughed when he said he wanted to be a doctor. His mother said nothing.

His sister came out when she was thirteen. John was ten that year, and learned from her experience that it’s better not to stand out. While Harry was being dramatic, having angry confrontations with their parents, making everyone love and hate her, John flew under the radar.

At school, he stayed in the upper third. He worked hard, took part-time jobs to help with the bills, got regular haircuts, and never even considered a tattoo.

Harry was a full-blown alcoholic by the time John started uni. He also drank, but kept his family history in mind and focused on what he was there for.

His father was a gambler who always had a new plan; his mother poured her energy into charity and church. Harry seemed determined to fuck up in every way imaginable, as if she had a sacred destiny to be the black sheep. Blood was not destiny. John was the responsible one.

His army buddies gave him the nickname Three Continents. As a child, he’d spent a few years in Australia (one of his father’s schemes to get rich), but that didn’t really count. He’d grown up in Britain, travelled to the continent one summer. His luck with European women was nothing to write home about. When he left for Afghanistan, he didn’t have much hope for that continent, either, since most of the women there were Muslim. The nickname was ironic, not iconic.

In the army, he was commissioned as a captain. He took his office seriously, gave orders with confidence, not out of a sense of ego or pride, but because he was responsible. When you’re responsible for lives, you don’t let people down.

In essence, he was a humble man.

When he returned home, he was a surgeon who could no longer do surgery, thanks to a shoulder wound that left him with nerve damage. He was a doctor with PTSD who couldn’t make it through the night without waking up in a sweat, hyperventilating. He had a limp. Women looked at him with pity, not interest.

And he began to suspect that dates with women weren’t what he wanted. His buddies might still call him Three Continents Watson, but there wasn’t any reputation to uphold. He often protested, I’m not gay, but his eyes tended to follow men rather than women.

That’s why, when he met Sherlock Holmes and agreed to share a flat with him, he felt fortunate to escape his tiny bedsit and move in with this odd man, who had somehow decided that John must accompany him at any hour of the day or night, usually to look at dead bodies. A man of eccentric habits, John seemed to have become one of them.

It didn’t hurt that his flatmate was good-looking. Sherlock Holmes had high cheekbones, dark curly hair, and a lanky grace that was enhanced by the tailored trousers and jackets he wore. He spoke in a silky baritone. To John, at least, it didn’t matter that he was arrogant or even insulting. He was extraordinary.

So when Sally Donovan frowned at John Watson and said, “Who are you?” he didn’t hesitate to say, “I’m nobody.”

But that same night, he carried his gun out into the night, chasing after a man, a murderer. He saw Sherlock about to accept the challenge, and his hand did not shake when he sent a bullet through two panes of glass, into the man’s chest.

John will never call himself a hero. They might exist, but he’s not one.

He’s just an ordinary man who lost his limp when he began following Sherlock Holmes.

And in that moment his only thought was that Sherlock Holmes had saved his life, and John wasn’t going to let him die.

#mayprompts2024

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tcfactory · 3 days

Note

on the yqy gets truth serumed thing: we find out because during a peak lord meeting, lqg says smth smth sqq sux and i hate him, and usually what gets said is "shidi is permitted to his own opinion, of course, but blablabla-" what comes out the sect leaders mouth THIS time, however, is "oh fuck your mother you foul tempered brat; jiu can do as he pleases and so help me if he threatens to leave because of this i will use your skin as a rug ^^" no one was ready.

YES

Exactly this is the vibe I picture if Yue Qingyuan got dosed with a truth serum.

Someone says something about how Shen Qingqiu's whoring is dragging the sect's reputation down, but what could they really expect from a man like that. Complete with a meaningful glance. And of course it's expected that Yue Qingyuan will take his side, even if he tries to word it diplomatically, they all know how he is...

And then Yue Qingyuan says "I'm going to break your jaw and rip out your lying tongue for slandering Shen Jiu. We don't even have anything in the rules forbidding sex you stupid piece of-" at which point Liu Qingge and Mu Qingfang both tackle him because something is clearly wrong with him and they can't rule out possession right away.

Everybody is mortified when Mu Qingfang confirms it's a truth pollen, but Shen Qingqiu just sits there completely floored because Yue Qingyuan would commit violence for him? Despite everything?? Then why hasn't he done any of that?! At least put in a little more effort when standing up for him to discourage the rich idiots from picking on him! Useless shixiong.

They wrap Yue Qingyuan in immortal binding cables because they don't trust his word that he always thinks like this and the risk of him acting on it is not one the can take, and he kneels in front of Shen Qingqiu and tells him that he would do anything to have his trust, his love back. If Shen Jiu asks him to rip out his useless, treacherous tongue, to crack open his chest and hand him his still beating heart as proof of his love, he would do so even if it's the last thing he would do in this life.

And Shen Qingqiu swoons because okay, there's something fishy here, but that's the kind of devotion he wants (devotion to match his own) and he is still fucking mad, don't get him wrong, but keep talking he's listening.

#svsss #short answer because my connection on the train is garbage #but yeah. let then be violently obsessed with each other #not the flavor I'm good at writing but I WISH #qijiu #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #yue qingyuan

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lyrenminth · 2 days

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JB9 request

They are divorced and have two children together, and he is jealous that she is leaving the kids at his house so she can go on a date. but the meeting was horrible, because the guy is not like Joe

This was a very specific and I had so much fun writing in. A little bit of angst at the end.

What we used to be

The decision for filing the divorce was consciously taken. It was done three years ago, while you went to a rough patch in your marriage. The decision wasn't easy, because you share two children together, and for them was equally hard to understand why mommy and daddy weren't together anymore.

One of the main reasons was after having children, you marriage went cold and dead. He was busy playing football and you were busy mothering a three years old and a nine months old. You didn't have the time to be a couple anymore.

Currently, you decided to start dating again after your friends prompted you to do so. It was difficult because you had to coordinate with Joe (now that you were co-parenting). And of course, was during the off-season because during his seasons you had the kids most of the time. On weekends you dropped the children with Robin so she would take them to the home game. It was a messy life, because you shared a lot of things as a result of the years together. Trying to get rid of Joe was impossible having children with his face and living in Cincinnati. So you made peace with that fact long ago. You got along for the children, he was kind and always asked for your opinion when included the family. And you were polite with him, but nothing else.

You send him a text. "Hey, I'm dropping the kids early this Friday. That's ok?"

Joey B: Yeah, that's ok. Are you busy on Friday?

You: Yeah, something came up. Your home or your parents'?

Joey B: My house. Everything alright?

You: everything alright

That was the last text. After that you waited earnestly for your date. You met John through friends, he seemed like a good guy. By looks, the completely opposite of Joe. John had one child already, and worked for a big company in New York but was living in Cincinnati two years now.

You thought it would be difficult if men knew who was your ex-husband because it had happened one time and it ruin the mood for everyone. Apparently, you completely fucked up or whatever. Well, John didn't know anything about football, he couldn't care less about the Superbowl and that was a pleasant surprise.

So on Friday, you drive Mackenzie and Julian to their dad's house. They were behaving well during all morning. And since it was off-season they could spent the weekend with Joe.

You parked the car, and for your surprise Joe was waiting for them outside.

"Dad!" yelled Julian, running towards Joe who was wearing pants and a hoodie. "Mom, can you help me with my backpack?" asked Mackenzie trying to open the door. You got out of the car, and help her. She made cookies for her dad, and was so happy to share.

You help her to carry the backpack until you were face to face with Joe, who was looking handsome as always.

"Daddy, I made cookies!"

"Daddy, can we play videogames?"

The children demanded attention equally, but Joe was still staring at you. Hard.

"Have I something on my face?" you asked, almost aggressively. You put some make up on and dressed in a nice dress for the occasion.

"No, you fine" he cleared his throat "Not your usual fit"

"Mommy is going on a date" Julian shout, excited. Joe's eyebrows raised, you laughed nervous.

"Well, kids behave well. Enjoy the cookies" you said trying not to look at your ex-husband. "Is that true?" he asked, he sounded kinda jealous. Maybe you were overthinking.

"Well, yes" not wanting to discuss anything further in front of the kids "Take care, Joey"

"Please, call me if you need something" he said, "Let me know you're safe"

Your heart flipped. Why he did those things before your date? Weird. You nodded, going back to the car.

John was a nice man. You were sure he was nice, just...not to you. After thirty minutes in the date he kept talking about himself and his work that you thought you were watching a TED talk. He was good looking, but soon you realize you didn't have anything in common by what he was saying. Your mind wandered to your first date with Joe, it was in a bowling alley. Things got competitive and you spent a really good time together that you hook up in your car after the date. Would you hook up with John? Nah.

"Do you need another drink?" John's voice brought you back from your wild thoughts.

"No, thank you"

"So, you told me your ex-husband was a football player, right?"

"Yes" you said cautiously "He still plays"

"And how do you get along?"

"We talked only for the kids"

"Ummm, sure" he dismissed your answer. You raised your eyebrows, astonished. "What do you mean?" you wondered.

"Nothing. I didn't tell you about this trip I'm going to make next month..." he started talking again.

Joe bought you drinks too. You loved his smile back then. Julian had the same smile actually. After getting married you had very nice dates too, but you loved to spend time at home watching movies and resolving puzzles.

The date went on, and you have to excuse yourself or would die of boredom. After the date you missed your children so much, but it was Joe's time with them. So you went to your house and waited.

On Sunday evening, you went to pick up the kids. After a couple of minutes, Joe appeared wearing shorts and a compression shirt. He looked really handsome, his sandy hair was messy, he looked younger somehow.

"Hey" you said, nervous.

"The kids are in the pool" he explained "Come in while I prepare them"

"Oh, no. I can wait in the car" you replied, pointing at your car. He looked up-and-down, and pressed his lips. You blushed like a teenager "I bet they want to see you"

"Okay" you whispered, follow him inside the house. "How was your date?" the question made you flinch. You didn't remember John at all. "Umm, it was good"

I was bored as hell, and thinking about you. How pathetic.

Silence. By the way he was looking at you, he didn't believe you either. You reach the chicken and he offered something to drink and you decline. "Are you going to the OTAs early this year?" you wondered, hearing music and the children screams outside.

"No, I'm going to spend time with the kids" you nodded, pleased. Joe was a great father, you never doubted that.

You lock eyes, and your stomach made weird things. His eyes softened, and he got closer to you.

"Y/N can we talk about us?" he requested.

"What?" you were in panic mode "About what?"

"The divorce. I thought were struggling but I never listen to you" he said, seriously "Until you fill in the papers" Your heart sank. His lips were still pressed, the wrinkles on his forehead let you know he was stressed too. "I feel like we never had the time to stop and think what we're doing" he said softly.

The bump in your throat didn't let you speak properly. You tried anyway. "I try to speak to you, Joey. I tried to do many things to save our marriage. It didn't work, you were focused on football, and I felt utterly alone" you wipe a treacherous tear "We weren't a couple anymore. I didn't have a partner"

"Mommy! Daddy!" Julian got into the house all wet and hugged you. "Do you want to see how I jump into de pool?"

"Julian, mommy is here to pick you up" Joe explained "Go and tell your sister" Julian nodded and went happily to his sister. Joe attention was on you again. "We should speak about this with more time"

"Why? Are you trying to marry me again?" you joked frustrated he wasn't listening again. "Yes, I never wanted a divorce" he replied ardently. The confession hit you. "Then, why did you fill the divorce?"

"Because I was scared..." the footsteps didn't let him finish "I'll send you a message, please"

You left Joe's house confused and heartbroken. Even though, you couldn't avoid the hope growing in your chest.

Let me know if you want a second part. I think it would be cool.

#joe burrow #nfl #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fan fic #fanfiction

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bravo4iscool · 1 day

Text

(not proof-read!)

My father never talked a lot

He just took a walk around the block

'Til all his anger took a hold of him

And then he'd hit

simon flexed his fingers, his knee bouncing up and down. he needed to calm down, he wanted to calm down. he thought about leaving the house for a few moments to not run into your or the kids but he quickly crossed this off his list.

no, he would stay here and work through his anger instead of fleeting it. he would actually try to solve it before finding his escape at the shooting range.

he wasn’t like his old man. he would never be.

My mother never cried a lot

She took the punches, but she never fought

'Til she said, "I'm leaving, and I'll take the kids"

So she did

simon didn’t like to see you cry. no matter if he was the reason or not. he despised it. seeing tears streaming down your face made him feel like his world was falling apart; because it was. you were his world. you and your kids.

and never in a million years simon would lay his hands on you or your kids. he would rather shoot himself.

sometimes—when it seemed like he couldn’t calm himself down—he thought about what would happen if you would walk away from him. it made him realize what he would lose if he wouldn’t be able to keep himself in check.

seeing you walk away from him—with the kids—in front of his inner eye gave him a certain calmness. it made him still and think about why he was angry and if it really was necessary that he was angry.

Scattered 'cross my family line

God, I have my father's eyes

But my sister's when I cry I can run, but

I can't hide

From my family line

simon didn’t know how many mirrors have suffered the force of his fist already. sometimes it was at night when his tried self was looking back at him through the mirror, sometimes it was during the day when the anger took a hold on him and he thought his father was staring at him, mocking him.

when ever he looked at the mirror too long he saw his reflection shifting into a picture of the bastard who had the audacity to call himself his dad. and simon would grip the sink, of even afraid of breaking it with the force of his grip.

and in moments—when you weren’t able to get him in time—his fist would collide with the mirror. but when he looked at the scattered pieces on the floor, he didn’t see his father anymore. no. he saw him. he saw tommy.

afterwards he would sit in silence as you whisper soothing words while patching up his hands with careful, loving and gentle hands.

“you’re not him,” you would tell him, before you kiss his forehead and keep him close.

It's hard to put it into words

How the holidays will always hurt

I watch the fathers with their little girls

And wonder what I did to deserve this

How could you hurt a little kid?

I can't forget, I can't forgive you

'Cause now I'm scared that everyone I love will leave me

when simon held his first child in his arms he was afraid. he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to live up to the role as a father. he was afraid he would fail. not only his child but also you.

he could still remember the days he spend crying in the backyard as a kid because it seemed like everyone had a loving father but him. everyone’s life was good and fun except his.

he would watch his friends play with their parents from afar and he would pray and beg that his father would change, even tho he knew he never would.

simon never understood why he needed to take blow after blow, punch after punch, burn after burn but he did. he never understood why his father didn’t love him. he never understood how anyone could love him.

because his mother loved him and she left. tommy loved him and he left. tommy’s wife loved him and she left.

everyone who ever loved him left.

except you. you had stayed. you didn’t go anywhere. and he was keen on keeping it that way.

Oh, all that I did to try to undo it

All of my pain and all your excuses

I was a kid but I wasn't clueless

(Someone who loves you wouldn't do this)

All of my past, I tried to erase it

But now I see, would I even change it?

Might share a face and share a last name, but

(We are not the same)

simon went to therapy. he tried at least. he never lasted more than two sessions, maybe three. he felt like it didn’t help him. he felt like he was shutting himself down even more after ach session.

every therapist had tried to work through what his father did and why he did it but nobody understood that simon knew why his father did what he did. no one understood that simon was aware of what his father did.

he tried to erase it, tried to forget about it but he couldn’t. it was chasing him down, finding every single hideout he so carefully constructed for himself. he couldn’t escape who he was and what he’s been through.

but you, you didn’t care about that. you didn’t care about who he was and what had happened to him. you loved him for who he was now and what he was doing now. and you made sure to tell him that.

“you might be a riley but a name doesn’t carry what you might think it does.” that’s what you told him when he finally opened up about his fears about ending up like his father. “you carry your fathers dna, yes but you also carry your mothers and your mother was a lovely woman from what you told me.”

you would pull him into your arms while sitting on the couch, your hand gently playing with his hair. “you decide who you are and who you want to be. not your name and not your dna. you won’t be like your father if you don’t want to be like him. and i know you don’t.”

simon cried whenever you told him that. he would cry into your chest, seeking all the comfort he could. “you share the same name but you’re not the same,” you whisperd into his ear as you pulled him closer to you, your arms tightening around him.

(masterlist | join my tag list!)

tag list - @bumblebeesfromvenus @yazt09 @blackhawkfanatic

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!

#writing #ao3 #fanfiction #archive of our own #story writing #call of duty #simon riley #cod #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader

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treacheryinblue · 20 hours

Text

Chapter 2/4

A Noah Sebastian x F!Reader One Shot Series

Word Count: 7.1k

Masterlist

× Summary: Noah is Death, the ruler of the after life (or whatever you want to call it), though he is cursed to watch you come and go from his never ending existence time and time again.

× Warnings!: Eh-level smut (oral [f receiving], P in V obviously, touch of spanking), language, little bit of violence, tiny fluff if you squint, slight dom!noah, smut with plot aka this became more in depth than I meant for it to aka a one shot that's now a series. Let me know if I missed anything!

× Author's Notes: ( 1 ) Thank you sooo much for all the support this story has been given. It was never was supposed to be more than a one shot, but after all the excitement behind it, I've decided to make it into a short series! I'm going to try to keep it at four parts, just to show the lore behind the characters and also maybe why it's happening...if I can make my brain create such things. ( 2 ) PLEASE suspend all thoughts of how time works when reading this. Time is pretty much just NOT a thing in Noah's realm. It's nonlinear and I refuse to be tied down by it! Also, hopefully the context clues are obvious enough for people to pick up on what time period the female character is from in each chapter. If not, feel free to hit me with a question.

Happy reading! xoxo

“The Dark Lord will be pleased with this one.”

An unknown voice sounded out around you, immediately sending a chill down your spine. You heard yourself expel a whimper of fear as your hands responded by trembling in their bindings. The man must've noticed this because a sadistic sounding laugh rang out, echoing through wherever you were and reverberating in your ears.

How long had you been tied down to this slab of rock? It easily could've only been hours, though it felt like days. Weeks. An eternity. Nothing felt longer than waiting for your impending death.

“Please…” you pleaded in a soft and broken voice. “Let me go and I will make sure no harm comes of you.”

The men again cackled, the kind that you were sure had them gripping their bellies and arching back. Maybe it was a good thing you couldn't see their dirty faces and broken teeth taunting you. That would never be the last thing you'd want anyone to have to witness before their untimely demise.

“The blade. Now.”

Something cool pressed to your chest and immediately forced a slight gasp out of you. Again, you began to tear up and pull at your restraints, although you had no idea what you would do if you happened to free yourself. The noises you had picked up on told you that there were more than two people there, and after so long without food or water, you'd never be able to take them. You were doomed one way or the other.

As the blade traveled downwards, it was made to puncture and rip the bodice of your dress. Another set of hands tugged the thin fabric to further open it, revealing your bare torso beneath it.

“Please! Don't do this!” You cried, now feeling shame from being so exposed.

How horrible was it that you were briefly only concerned about what your mother and father would say of this? They'd scold you, hissing words of how it wasn't very ‘lady like’ and that ‘no man would want you now’. You would be the ‘shamed whore’ of your village.

Before those thoughts could lead with any traction, the sound of faint chanting snapped you from your own thoughts. It started as a whispering and ever so slowly began working its way higher and higher with every repeated line. Unfortunately, you couldn't make out any of the words. It was possible that it was in another language, though also likely that your sobs took the forefront of the focus.

As the volume grew, so did your fear. Your breathing was rapid and uneven, a cool sweat forming across your chest and along the back of your neck. It was not being able to see what was happening that was also truly terrifying. Your captors had blind folded you after securing you down, this being the last time you saw any of their faces. It had been days of darkness - if not longer.

The chanting had started increasing in pace. Voices roared all around you and you could sense someone probably just within your reach (had your hands been free) but they had yet to do or say anything. You sobbed beneath your blindfold, the ropes holding you down rubbing your poor wrists raw from how you had been desperately trying to pull them free. They burned with every motion, and you were sure blood had been coating them since day one. Not that anyone around cared enough to take note.

“Please!” You yelled again, the single worded plea broken from your constant waterfall of tears. You swore you even heard another chuckle from right beside you.

“Send our love to the Dark Lord.”

A fierce pain punctuated his final statement as the blade ripped through your chest. You screamed in terror, just for the blade to be retrieved and then forced through skin, muscle, bone, again and again until you were nothing but a husk of who you had once been.

× × ×

Piercing eyes stared at you from across the long table, silently watching every move you made, no matter how small. You could feel the weight of his gaze despite having told him before how uncomfortable it made you - this had shocked him into a brief silence - but it obviously hadn't been important enough information for him to retain.

As you reached for your glass of wine, he did the same. His motions mirrored yours when you both took a swallow from the glass, followed by another, then another - the third being a mere test to see if he would or not.

“Stop.”

The demand left you with an irritated sigh, your wine glass then being loudly placed back to the table top. He chose to do the opposite, instead opting to lightly set his own glass down in a more respectable manner.

“Stop what?”

Your eyes narrowed at him, lips pressed tight together to showcase to him just how completely and utterly annoying he was. Ever since your arrival, he had done nothing but get under your skin day after day, night after night, second after second.

Maybe you really were in Hell.

“I'm going back to my quarters.”

You weren't going to do this with him again. It had become an every encounter sort of thing at this point - both of you engaging in an argument until you finally stomped off or he dismissed you before you ‘fell victim to his true nature’. How in the world were you supposed to live like this? For how long? Every time you’d yell this inquiry at him, he would only smile like he knew a secret you didn't.

Dropping your napkin to your plate, you were just about to push away from the table when his voice halted your every movement.

“Sit back down now. I haven't excused you.”

There was a sternness to his demand that you had yet to hear from him prior. It shook you to your core…in a way you hadn't expected.

There was a brief pause as you stared at him. You were silently debating with yourself as to whether or not you should listen, weighing the options. Since you had nowhere to go where he couldn't find you, you did as he requested.

“Maybe I've gone about this the wrong way. Maybe I've been too nice. Too lenient. Too patient. Since those approaches don't appear to be working, we're going to switch up to the way I prefer things.”

The man you knew as Noah slowly stood from his chair. Those eyes of his never broke from yours, not even as he placed his palms on the table top and leaned forward a bit to assert only an ounce of his dominance. You wanted to say it didn't make you want to cower in a corner, but it did.

Or maybe take your clothes off…

“You are here in my domain. Do you know what that means?”

Noah's eyebrows raised when he paused, though you knew he wasn't looking for an answer. He already had one of his own loaded and ready to go.

“It means I'm the fucking King and it would be in your best interest to not disobey me.”

You thought it would end there. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

But wait…what was this new sensation you were beginning to feel? It was warm and tingly…quite different from any you had experienced before, both when dead or alive.

“It doesn't matter to me that it's you. You are still required to make sure I remain pleased.”

This caught your curiosity and it showed in the way your own brows pulled together ever so slightly.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that you listen to m-”

“No, the first part.”

You could see the way his features softened when he realized what he had said. Was this one of those secrets he always seemed to be keeping from you? Obviously. The issue was that you had no clue what it meant.

“For the love of Go-!” Noah paused before he could get the entire saying out, his jaw clenching and face reddening as if it would truly pain him to say the words. With a deep exhale through his nose, he stood to his full height and raked his fingers roughly through his hair. He was frustrated, though something told you that it wasn't all because of your defiant behavior.

The anger he held was bubbling to the surface and forcing him to lose his composure. He growled as he latched onto the chair and sent it hurling to the ground, followed by the glass of wine he had previously been nursing. Both became shattered pieces that would be impossible to repair.

“Why do you not remember yet?! Is this some cruel joke you're playing on me? Is that it?!”

Before you could even blink he was in front of you. He had forced your chair out a bit, enough for him to wedge himself in front of it to prevent you from escaping. His tattooed hands firmly grasped at the arms of the chair, intense eyes level with your own.

You weren't frightened of him. You had endured the wrath of more vile men many times in the past, your father being one of them, so this temper tantrum of his did not register as a threat.

Plus, you were already dead. What more could he do to you?

“I need you to remember.”

These words were spoken in a much softer tone, almost like he was begging you. Pleading. The pain was clear in his eyes and for some reason this hurt you as well. Why did you care about his feelings? Why did you want to make him feel better? Never during any of your previous altercations had you felt this way.

“I'm sorry…I don't know how…I don't understand…”

Noah appeared crushed. You swore you could hear the sound of his heart breaking; that's how deep his emotions ran along his features. He dropped to his knees in front of you, his head bowed to keep his face hidden. The hands that had once been gripping the arms of the chair fell to your covered knees, now grasping tight to you in any way he could.

“Please…try for me? There's a part of you that would do anything for me, just as I would do for you.”

Although his words continued to confuse you, they didn't disturb you or make you uncomfortable as they previously had. There was even a fraction of you that believed him…which only made you want to try as he was requesting.

Maybe he could sense this, because you felt one of his hands fall and begin lightly tracing along your ankle. The other remained on your knee, still clutching tight.

“Close your eyes…will yourself to remember…I know you can.”

There was a flicker of something behind your closed eyes, almost like a thought. Maybe a memory. You weren't too sure because the scene clip was foreign and not anything you had ever experienced in your living life. All that was familiar within the abrupt flash were his eyes and the way they devoured you.

“That…what was that?”

Noah’s hand cradled your cheek, his touch immediately causing you to open your eyes and connect with his own. There was now a hopeful gleam within them, so much that you swore you even saw his lips threatening to turn up into a smile.

“Did you remember something? Tell me.”

All you could do was slowly shake your head. Even if you wanted to tell him what the brief image had been, you knew you wouldn't be able to put it into words. It was like trying to describe a color to someone that they would never see for themselves. An impossible task to say the least.

Without another word, you quickly pushed him away from you and stood from your chair. Noah was stunned by your actions but made no move to stop you from running away, not like you had expected him to. As you exited the dining room, all you heard behind you was the sound of more glass breaking and Noah’s pained yells.

× × ×

Sleep eventually took over you that night, though it hadn't come easy. To bring forth this needed unconsciousness, you had to think of the images from earlier and imagine what scenario it was attached to.

It took place in an unknown room, though you could assume this room was in the same domain you currently were held in. The decor was the same, the walls and lighting giving this away. It wasn't your current room, though, but somewhere a little more lived in. It was comfortable, if you were being honest. Almost as comfortable as the bed you were laid out over in this flash of images.

There was a warmth that accompanied them, one that you were only barely accustomed to. You had experienced it before during your living existence when you had hiked your dress up to your hips and buried your fingers between your thighs - these moments were fleeting and only happened enough times for you to count on one hand.

Although, it wasn't your hands that brought forth the unfamiliar but welcomed warmth this time, but something - someone - far more enticing.

A pleasure radiated throughout your entire being in a way that had your body trembling and your voice crying out for more. You had managed to open your eyes long enough to see his head between your spread thighs, decorated fingers holding tight to you to make sure you remained fully open for him, all while his mouth worked wonders in ways you didn't know possible.

“Noah!” You moaned and whimpered, his name on your lips only sending him into an excited frenzy. He groaned into you as his mouth secured around your clit, harshly sucking before soothing the nerves with swipes of his tongue that made your hips buck and your cunt clench in a desperate need to be filled.

“You're so perfect…” he breathed as he pulled back just enough to watch his fingers disappear inside of you. The sensation was heavenly, as ironic as that was, even more so when his long digits dipped and curled within your dripping wet warmth. Noah stroked along a spot that immediately had you gasping for air and gripping tight to the already tangled sheets your body had become well acquainted with. The mess of linens told you that you had been at this for a bit now, and it definitely wasn't his first time admiring you from below.

“Don't stop, please…” you begged, soft and gentle between your labored breathing.

Noah happily obliged, not that he had any plans on stopping until he was thoroughly satisfied with your amount of pleasure. His wicked mouth returned to your clit, tongue swirling and flicking in a way only the Devil could know how, while his fingers assisted in bringing you right to the edge.

If this was eternal damnation, then you would willingly devote the rest of your existence to it, to him.

Just a couple more firm strokes of his fingers and your body was tensing, a pressure building so high that it literally felt as if you were going to explode. And almost as soon as the thought passed your mind, your body released - literally and metaphorically. Moans heaved from you and your hips writhed beneath Noah’s form, a sudden wave of pure heat traveling through you and coating his fingers. The bed became soaked, though Noah seemed less than concerned about this. He hadn't even let up on pulling your clit between his lips and forcing his fingers harder within the collapsing and pulsing walls of your cunt.

You awoke from your slumber with a gasp, your body abruptly sitting up in bed. It took a moment for you to gather yourself, but you eventually noticed that you were alone and no longer in the room from your…dream? Memory? It was still so hard to say. As you made a motion to move, you felt a throb between your thighs, a deep pulsing just like the one your subconscious had just been experiencing.

You thought nothing of it at first, not until you stood from the bed only to realize the sheets, as well as your clothing, held a wet spot right where one could assume.

It only took a moment for you to change, though you left yourself bare beneath the sleeping gown with not even the top tied securely. There was no reason for you to waste time with it when there was one thing on your mind now.

After a few wrong turns and having to backtrack more than you'd like to admit, you finally stumbled upon the study where you knew Noah to spend the majority of his time. Sometimes you swore this domain liked to purposely switch up and change on you, just to make finding your intended location all the more difficult.

“Stop lingering,” his voice called out after you had stood outside the cracked door for far too long.

A small jolt in response to his voice being directed to you caused your heart to skip a beat, though you did as he said and gently pushed the study door open enough for you to slip through.

“How did you kno-”

“Nothing happens here without my knowledge of it. No matter how small or…private.”

That's when his eyes lifted to meet with you, they focused in on your hips first before slowly trailing up to your own gaze. Something gleamed within his stare, but it wasn't something you were yet capable of putting your finger on. All you knew was that it further stirred a sensation inside you.

“It's late,” Noah then pointed out as he leaned back in his chair, sights still locked on you.

You nodded in understanding, slow steps being taken closer to the desk he resided behind. Instead of stopping in front of it, you moved around the side and only paused once you were in front of him, just within arm’s reach. You could see Noah's chest inflate with a deep inhale, his eyes further darkening at the close proximity. Had his gaze even flickered down to where your hardened nipples were evident beneath the thin fabric of the dress you wore? You swore they had.

Speaking of your clothing…it was drastically different from what Noah always wore. His black on black suit wasn't like anything you were used to seeing, though your clothes were reminiscent of your time, unchanging from what you knew. How odd, you thought to yourself. This wasn't the time to ponder such things, though. It was just one more mystery added to the collection you were keeping note of.

“I had a dream,” you finally revealed. A hand hesitantly reached out so you could trail a finger slowly beneath his jaw, a simultaneous step closer to him also being taken. “At least…I think it was only a dream.”

“A memory, perhaps.” Noah spoke up, his eyebrows raised.

“Perhaps.” Your hand fell from his face and you swore you noticed a sadness quickly glaze over his eyes, almost as if he missed your touch already. Lucky for him, you had no intention of keeping your hands to yourself right then.

Delicate fingers clutched the fabric that covered your body, now being pulled up just enough so you could freely move while settling into Noah’s lap. Your knees straddled him and his hands moved to lay atop the bare skin of your thighs, almost like a reflex.

“Tell me what you remember.”

A slight shrug of your shoulder caused the gown to fall away, revealing more of your skin to him. His eyes followed the trail of your neck down your shoulder and to your chest, just as he reached up to further tug the fabric away in a gentle manner until the swell of your breasts were shown.

Noah had learned forward so he could slowly kiss along the bared skin of your chest. His hands traveled up the sides of your thighs, purposely pushing the hem of the dress up more, but not fully. He was then gripping your waist, slyly pulling your body even closer to his while his lips dipped between the valley of your breasts.

“It's mainly feelings that I remember, not necessarily specific moments…”

A question lingered at the tip of your tongue, one that you weren't really sure the meaning of. It was merely plaguing the back of your mind, leaving you curious for an answer that could possibly mean absolutely nothing to you.

“How…many times have I been here?”

The inquiry caused Noah to pause, his eyes flickering up to yours before he relayed an answer.

“This makes five. Five lives…five versions of you…and this you by far has been the most stubborn.”

This knowledge didn't frighten you like it would have mere hours ago. No, it actually made a bit of sense now, like the puzzle pieces were all slowly starting to come together.

“And each one is me?”

Noah hummed lightly, his lips returning to their trek along your chest. He was being much softer with you than you would've imagined, especially given the outburst you had witnessed from him earlier.

“Same body, same eyes, same markings…” he punctuated this with a slight bite to a prominent freckle that sat off to the side of your right breast. “Even the same name.”

“So…where are all of the previous versions of me at?”

A heavy sigh followed your question, his jaw clenched in obvious frustration. Having not yet answered, Noah swiftly picked you up and laid you down atop his desk after swiping the unnecessary items aside. There was a darkness in his eyes again, and you noticed that his previous soft caresses were becoming much more defined and needy. Witnessing this had your insides stirring, but in a way that made you thankful for wearing nothing more than your sleep gown.

“You’ve been taken from me.”

Noah’s voice was harsh, the words almost being hissed through gritted teeth. Apparently you had touched on a sore subject without even realizing it. But still, he began undressing himself as you laid beneath him, vulnerable and aching. Not even his growing anger was going to stop him from having you.

With his torso now bared to you, you took a moment to take in all of the permanent etchings that crowded his skin. You had never seen such things before, though you've heard tales of tattoos and these being described as the ‘mark of the Devil’. Clearly your time wasn't too far off, considering who you were currently in the company of.

A hand grabbed your face and forced you to look up at him as his body hovered over your own. Noah’s eyes were as intense as ever as he searched within yours, on a hunt for something.

“You aren't meant for this world but you are mine. I'll see to it that every death brings you to me. They can't stop me.”

They?

There was no chance for you to inquire about this because Noah’s mouth was then on yours, all hot and desperate. He kissed you like his life depended on it - funny enough - like you were the only thing that could breathe oxygen back into his lungs. And much to your own surprise, you kissed him back with just as much ferocity. His taste was addicting and familiar, one that you wanted to hold onto for as long as you could.

Even as he pulled back, you swiped your tongue along your lower lip simply to savor what remained.

One strong pull was all it took for Noah to rip the gown you wore straight down the middle, his eyes immediately drinking you in. He leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, moaning against your heated skin while flicking his tongue along the hardened bud before sinking his teeth in. You gasped at the slight pain, but the rise of your hips to grind against his let him know that you actually enjoyed it.

Noah smirked as he moved to your opposite nipple, displaying the same loving abuse to it. A warmth was pooling between your thighs and you were suddenly so eager for his touch that you didn't know what to do with yourself. Your hips continued to grind along his, desperate to feel any sort of relief, but the material of his pants were too soft and not at all what you were aching for.

“Not so defiant now, are you?” He taunted, his clothed hips firmly pressing into yours just to further rile you up.

“Look at you…desperate and whining…you must be remembering how good I can make you feel.”

Indeed you were, because never have you felt a need as strong as this before. Something in you knew just how mind blowing a climax at his hands could be and you wanted it now. You were so caught up in your own selfish needs that you hadn't even heard the sound of his belt coming off or the distinct ripple of the zipper being dragged down. When your eyes met with him again, he was fully naked and standing between your legs, slowly stroking along every inch of his hard cock.

“Fuck…the things you do to me,” he murmured to himself, heavily exhaling through his nose. You watched in awe as he continued to touch himself, his hips pushing forward to thrust into his hand, even as he rubbed the head of his cock down between your folds. Noah’s eyes closed and his head tossed back, reveling in the sensation of you being so wet for only him.

“Please…” you whimpered, your legs spreading more as if that would help entice him in. As much as you liked watching him get himself off, surprisingly enough, you were far too needy in that moment to have any bit of his stamina wasted on his hand.

Releasing the hold he had on his cock, he instead grabbed your calf and lifted your leg to his shoulder. His strong hands now held your hips, the tip of his cock pressed right to your entrance since he had produced the perfect angle after maneuvering your body around however he saw fit.

“You have to be a good girl and take it,” he instructed, his voice soothing but still holding an edge to it.

Noah pressed forward, allowing only the swollen head of his cock to stretch through your tight walls that hugged him just as close as he remembered.

“Say it.” He demanded, refusing to go any further until you had.

You shakily breathed out, your heart racing and blood pumping so fast that your cheeks were flushed a deep red already. “I'll be a good girl,” you repeated his words, nodding. “I'll take it, I promise.”

Happy with this, Noah thrusted forward in a swift motion that you had taking every inch he had to offer. Your tight pussy welcomed him into your depths with a constricting pulse that would've made him cum right then had he not had an eternity of practiced self control.

Noah deeply groaned, his jaw set and biceps flexed while holding you in place. Your own moans mixed with his, your body trembling in his grasp from just how intense it was to be fully filled by him. It was like nothing you had ever felt before…quite literally since your living existence had yet to experience the touch of another. You had only known a release at your own hands, which was nothing compared to this.

“That's it…” he cooed the familiar phrase as he began his rapid pace of driving his cock deep into you again and again, forcing moans and profanities never yet spoken from you each time. “You're always so good at taking it.”

Oh, how you wanted nothing more than to take all that he had to offer.

The stretch of your walls were so tight around him that you swore you could feel every engorged vein throbbing when he forced himself as deep as possible. Noah turned his head so he could kiss along your ankle, the grip he had on your calf tightening just before leaning forward a bit. It was a good thing you were pretty limber or else a cramp would've surely ruined the mood by now. Noah didn't seem concerned about this, though. He was far too focused on the shape of your lips as you cried out his name.

This angle had to have been created by this Devil himself though, because you could barely take a breath from how overpowering it was. You looked up at him with furrowed brows and nothing but silence as your breath caught in your throat. Every inch of your body tensed, though this had yet to cease his quickening thrusts. Your cunt felt too good, too warm, too tight, for him to let up now.

“Noah!” His name finally erupted from you again, just as an unexpected orgasm took charge. Your head tossed back and your hips arched up as much as possible, your pussy now gripping his cock like a vice. Your walls were so strong that you noticed he was finally beginning to break a sweat.

As the climax shook through your body, his motions began to slow before coming to a complete halt. He stared down at you, a fire in his eyes.

“Did I say you could cum?” The question was punctuated with a firm spank to the side of your thigh, a sting radiating outwards that you knew you'd be feeling for some time afterwards.

“Hadn't I just told you that you're meant to listen to me? That I'm the King and you do as I say?”

Noah had shifted your leg off his shoulder and pulled his hips back until he was no longer inside of you. The loss of connection made you whine and pout because one orgasm hadn't been enough. You desperately needed more.

“I couldn't stop it,” you explained while he forced you up, around, and then back down so the front of your body was pressed to the desk.

“You promised you were going to be a good girl.”

There was a bit of rustling from behind you, followed by the faint clink of metal that you recognized from his belt when he had been removing it not long ago. Your thighs pressed together in anticipation for whatever he had planned for you now since you knew that fleeting moment of softness from him was long gone.

“But good girls ask before they cum, and you didn't ask.” The sound of something moving quickly through the air garnered your attention, but a mere second later a sharp sting forced a yelp from you when the folded edge of his belt made contact with your ass. The pain shot right to your core, your cunt clenching eagerly around nothing.

Another crack rang out when the belt again collided with your tender ass cheek. You whimpered and writhed, your hands desperately trying to grab onto something to steady yourself but there was nothing within reach on the desk. While it did hurt, and the pain only worsened with each spank, you still couldn't help but to crave more. Maybe it was because Noah was now rubbing his palm soothingly over the red and welted area, or maybe it was because you liked allowing him this power over you.

You held a power of your own over him as well, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Although now may have not been the time to bring that up.

“Look at how fucking wet you're getting from this,” he mused gleefully as his fingers dipped down to brush along your pussy. He gathered the wetness around his fingertips after sinking his digits into you, though he only graced you with a couple of pumps before their retreat.

Noah leaned over your body so his mouth was at your ear, his wet fingers forcing their way between your lips for you to obediently clean. Which you did without hesitation or complaint, even going so far as to moan softly at the taste of yourself.

“Now, are you going to be my good girl or do I need to punish you a bit more?” He whispered into your ear while lightly brushing your hair back from your face.

You could feel his hard cock between your thighs, teasing you with what you so badly wanted again. This assisted in you making up your mind, despite how much you enjoyed the punishment given.

“I'll be your good girl,” you promised once his fingers were pulled from your mouth.

Noah circled his strong hand around your jaw before placing a firm kiss to the side of your head. “That was the correct answer.”

Gently forcing your body back around to face his, he was careful to then set you on the edge of the desk. You winced at the weight being placed on your abused bottom, and it was only intensified when Noah purposely grasped the exact area, fingertips digging into the welts. There was no room for true pain when it was quickly overpowered by the euphoric sensation of him thrusting into you again.

Christ, if you weren't already dead then this man surely would've been the death of you.

Both hands squeezed your hips as he helped drag you along his cock, maneuvering your body in just the right way so he was hitting every spot inside of you that had you gasping for air. Your mind was occupied solely with thoughts of him, especially when taking in how he was gazing at you. It didn't matter that bits of his hair clung to his forehead with sweat or that you could barely take a breath without demanding that he fuck you harder, because Noah was still staring at you like you were the only thing in this entire melancholic universe that mattered.

“You're fucking amazing,” he grunted just as he pushed against your chest to lay you back on the desk again. This allowed him free reign to drive his cock at a maddening pace into your depths, his thrusts relentless to what your mere mortal body could handle.

Did it matter since you were already dead, though? Were you technically a mortal still? So many questions.

Your noises of ecstasy echoed through the study as your cunt throbbed around his twitching cock. The way Noah’s hips began to slow until he was taking long drags out of you, only to roughly thrust forward again, told you that he was close. You weren't sure how you knew, but you did. Just as you somehow knew other things little that would make him tick - both in good and bad ways.

“You look so beautiful like this.”

You couldn't help but to smile through your delightful torment, your body already so sensitive from your previous orgasm and all of the other things Noah had made you feel that night. From his unmatched stamina, so you could assume, to the pain of his belt across your ass that made your cunt clamp tighter around his cock just from thinking about it.

Noah must've noticed because he released a deep growl from his chest, his head now bowed and eyes closed as he continued his unforgiving thrusts.

“Oh!” You gasped the moment his palm pressed against your lower stomach and his thumb made contact with your clit. Your hips jerked and your thighs threatened to close, but his grip on the one only tightened to a harsh squeeze to keep you perfectly spread for him.

“You have to ask.” Noah reminded you, since he was well aware of what your reactions were pointing to.

Your eyes rolled back and your teeth sunk deep into your lower lip, breathless moans escaping one after the other, making it nearly impossible for you to say much of anything.

“Please!” You finally were able to pant out, a faint whine to follow. “Can I cum? Please?”

Noah smirked at your obedience. The sound of your begging only made him drive harder into your core, his thumb still working against your overly sensitive clit.

“Please please please,” the pleading continued in a faint whisper, this being all you could manage out now in a little chant of desperation.

Instead of voicing his approval, he merely gave a single nod just before planting both of his hands on the desk near your head. He was leaning over you now, his hips violently colliding with yours. Dark eyes focused down on your face and you immediately knew he wanted to watch up close as you fell apart for him again.

Your hands ran up his sides and back to clutch his shoulder blades, nails sinking harshly into his inked skin the moment your climax took over. Every inch of your body spasmed beneath his, your knees digging into his hips and nails dragging down his back in a way that made him sharply inhale in an almost hiss.

“Oh my go-!” The cry was nearly completed when his hand covered your mouth, preventing you from voicing the final word. Though this didn't stop you from moaning in a continuous yet muffled fashion as a wave rushed through your body and your cunt hungrily tried dragging in more of his cock.

“Fuck, you're doing so good,” he murmured in a low tone that had your insides melting and your orgasm freely flowing around him. “Fucking hell!”

Noah groaned as his thrusts became a little more sloppy before a final drive forward had him pausing as deep as possible inside of you. The muscles in his arms and shoulders tensed as he erupted, the vein in the side of his neck now more prominent. You couldn't help but to crane your neck forward just a bit in order to sink your teeth into it, bringing forth a moan from him directly into your ear.

Shivers traveled your body from the overly full feeling of him cumming inside of you and filling you to the brim, his arousal mixing with your own and overflowing. Still, your cunt continued to pulse and flutter around his cock, emptying him for all that he was worth. Your hips even rolled up into his again, purposely working yourself along his length simply because you could and because it felt so fucking good to have him stroking your g-spot, no matter how sensitive and spent your body was.

“I told you I could be a good girl,” you breathed against his neck while trailing your lips up in search of his. Noah chuckled into the kiss you eventually indulged him with, his brow finally relaxing now that you had stopped grinding into him and he could properly think.

Lifting his head after you parted from the kiss, he gazed down at you to admire how beautiful you looked with your cheeks flushed and a post-sex glow setting in. It was the first time he had seen you appear genuinely happy since your arrival, and while he of course wanted your body again and again, he also wanted to see that as often as he could.

“Don't think I've forgotten about how you acted at dinner.” His tone was serious only for a fleeting moment. Your eyes widened slightly, the welt on your ass pulsating as if to remind you of the punishments he could make you endure.

Noah cracked a faint grin before dragging his hand along the side of your face and claiming your lips once again. He was then standing to his full height and carefully pulling you to a sitting position along with him, where he slowly pulled himself out from your drenched core. A faint whimper escaped you, though you quickly covered it with a bite to your inner cheek.

“No need to worry about that now. I'll let you know when I'm coming to collect for your defiant behavior.”

Well, that surely made your pussy clench in eager anticipation.

Flexing and rolling his shoulders back, he muttered something about giving him a second and then scurried off, but not before making a quick turn back to kiss you again. As he disappeared, you took this moment to glance around the study. It was one of the many rooms you hadn't really been in before, Noah's bedroom included, because you always felt they were too personal for you to see.

And much to your own shock, Noah never entered your room either. At least you knew he could respect boundaries to a degree. But now? Well, now you weren't so sure what sort of boundaries remained for you two.

Taking in a deep breath, you lifted a hand to gently massage into the back of your neck, just as your eyes swept across the large bookcase that lined one side of the room. Something on one of the shelves immediately acquired your attention: a knife of sorts, a dagger, with rubies embedded in the handle. There was something very familiar about it, so much so that you found yourself slipping from the desk to make your way over to where it was displayed.

“I wasn't sure if you wanted to remain in the clothes you're used to, so I brought that and another option…” his voice grew quieter as it trailed off upon realization that you were no longer on the desk.

Noah's returning presence couldn't pry your eyes away from the dagger, nor could his soft demand for you to tell him what you were doing. Instead, you reached out to lightly trace along the sheath the dagger was housed in before ultimately picking it up and pulling it from the enclosure.

“What is this?”

Noah was by your side within seconds, his hand reaching for the item though you made an abrupt turn to step away from him.

“I need you to give me the dagger now…please. Then, maybe, we can discuss just what it is.”

There was a churning in your stomach and your heart was now beating so loud that you could hear it thumping within your ears. You recognized this dagger despite having only seen it for a few seconds after your captors all but dragged you to your death. A multitude of memories flashed before your sights of this dagger in particular, although in many different scenarios and situations.

Your eyes were pooling with tears as you finally looked up at him, both confusion and hurt written all across your face. It appeared as if Noah wanted to say something but he remained silent, his hand still outstretched like you were actually going to hand the item over to him.

“This was what was used to kill me, Noah. More than once. Why do you have it?”

#bad omens #bad omens cult #bad omens band #noah sebastian #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fan fiction #noah sebastian fan fiction #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fic #smut #bad omens smut #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian x reader #smut with plot #god of death complex

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lilithdeparis · 3 days

Text

A little help.

I swear to you guys

I've been having meaningless thoughts lately

l have to write it down, even tho l requsted it to someone.

If you don't like anything from here or don't feel comfortable reading about it, please don't read.

Forewarning: It will definitely be smut, the reader is a single mom, breastfeeding, etc.

Summry: The reader is a single mother who is having trouble breastfeeding her baby, but Simon wants to make it easy for her and helps her with it.

After six years in the army, you suddenly had to take a break, and that break was probably because you were pregnant out of nowhere.

Well of course you knew exactly who the father of the child was, but after talking with him about the pregnancy, you once again realized that sleeping with him that night was the biggest mistake of your life.

It was not easy for you to leave the army, probably because you had many friends there, and not only that, but you also loved your job very much.

You already talked about the problem with your Captain, you wanted to tell others the reason why you had to leave, but somehow you were embarrassed ? It's as if you imagined yourself as that stupid girl you always said you won't be,

"How can I have fun with a man for one night and get pregnant."

You used to say always and the love of a idle man really dragged your life to end, as if, as they say, God was laughing at you.

You left Task Force 141 and left all your friends behind, and the most painful thing was to see those disappointed eyes through the skull masked merciless Lieutenant, who once valued you so much, but now thought you betrayed him.

The pregnancy was the most difficult for you, you had no one by your side, no one at all, went to the doctor alone, took care of yourself alone, you didn't have a man who would run to the end of the world for you in the middle of the night to find strawberries in the middle of winter.

But you were a strong woman, you survived the worst, and you knew that the day you found out the gender of your baby, you would go through anything for your little girl.

And that's what happened, you walked to the hospital alone because you spilled too much water and left the hospital in a five days with a small, healthy and beautiful girl in your arms.

When you hold little Vivienne in your arms first, you felt as if all the problems around you were gone, after that day everything seemed to be going better and better, you had enough money because of your old job, you had a house, and now you had a beautiful daughter.

You continued living with your daughter, waking up with her in the morning, feeding her, taking care of her, enjoying her and you didn't want anything else until one New Year's day, you heard a knock on the door of your house.

Your six-month-old girl, who was still wrapped in cute deer pajamas, you immediately took her in your arms because when you left her at such a time, she cried, that's why you immediately went to the door with your girl in your hands.

As you open the door, met those familiar cold eyes and skull mask.

The man fastly turned his blue eyes to you and then looked at the little girl, he looked a little surprised. "Did you start working as a nanny ?"

"What ?! Of course not, this is my daughter."

It was the only thing that came out of your mouth in protest and that surprised Simon even more.

"And when did you have time to have a baby ?"

Simon asked directly and didn't even think before you closed the door, he put his foot between the door and opened it strongly, he was strong then and still is.

"Listen, I don't have time for you, I have to feed Vivi."

You said and the man didn't even listen, he entered the house with his muddy boots and closed the door behind him.

In ten minutes, both of you were in the living room, you were still holding Vivienne, Simon sitting on the couch, was looking at you still, he didn't seem to know what to do, should he be angry with you ? Should he be happy or should he just reached for your waist and kissed you hard because of longing ?

"Tell me why you hid from me ? you know that I would understand you, for you I would be the Simon that I was not with anyone else."

The man looked at you and said, then looked at the little girl, and as if there was sadness somewhere in his words, which was the most unusual for a lieutenant you knew.

As if you didn't need much to open up, just a little push which Simon happend to do, you immediately sat next to Simon with the baby in your arms and told him everything that happened to you, everything what you went through without him.

"I didn't want to leave you, but I had no choice, I was ashamed to tell you about my pregnancy."

Those were your last words, and after that tears started to fall from your eyes, you couldn't hold them back.

The man laughed suddenly, his big scarred hands immediately went to your face and the man wiped the tears from your eyes.

"Damn, what a fool you are."

He said and gently grabbed your chin, then lifted your head up and you couldn't see through his mask but you were sure he was smiling.

Before it could turn into something more romantic, Vivienne suddenly burst into tears and that because she was hungry.

You immediately started to calm her down, while Simon's big hands now went towards your angel's small hands.

"It's amazing how small and innocent ."

The man muttered to himself, you hear it too, perhaps life was amazing, the hands of an man with lots of human blood on it and the hands of a little angel who has never felt anything other than her mother's breast.

"Listen, can l hold her in my hands ?" Simon seemed to have the courage and asked and you didn't even need a few minutes to think because Simon was the only guy you trusted with your little girl.

The man took the little child in his hands, the hands with which he mercilessly suffocated and chocked men, so gently, he was so careful that even you were surprised and smiled.

In a few seconds, Vivienne started to look at Simon's mask and even touched it with her little hands, In one part, I think she even wanted to drool over the mask, which made the man laugh.

"Soo is this your little troublemaker ?"

Simon said and looked at the little girl who was smiling, maybe if there was someone else in her place, she would have broken her hand for holding on to his mask, but Vivienne, like you, already had the right.

"I think I better feed her or she might really drool over your mask."

You smiled and said, looking back at Simon, who nodded and gently hand the baby to you.

You watched him for the next minute, hoping he would figure out what to do, but then, when he didn't understand anything, you tell him.

"I have to breastfeed her Simon, could you... ?"

Simon looked at you and then when he understood, he shook his head, realized that it wouldn't be entirely comfortable for you to be watched by him, so he turned away.

When you fed Vivienne, the girl's stomach was so full that she fell asleep in seconds and you immediately put her to bed.

Although you had problems because you always had more milk left, full breast.

When you put the little one to bed, you tiredly went out to the living room where Simon was still sitting on the couch waiting for you and sat next to him.

"Vivi will probably be asleep for a long time."

You sighed and continued talking, but you didn't realize that Simon was busy with something else, he was probably already dying to see your big tits naked, In his hands or his cock right between them.

"Simon, are you listening?"

You spoke and the man immediately looked down at your chest, seeing the leaked milk coming from your breasts on your T-shirt.

"Listen, I think you have a problem with your chest right there."

Simon said it as sarcastic as he used to be with you most of the time, while you immediately looked down at your chest.

"Damn it's leaking, I need a drainer."

You spoke and before you got up, the man immediately put his hand on your waist, gently pushed you back on your sit.

"Listen, I can help you."

The man said in all seriousness and you raised an eyebrow, immediately asking. "And How ?"

The man immediately put his arm around your waist and placed you on his laps, so that he was now looking directly at your breast.

"Shhh, don't ask questions, I know you want my help."

The man spoke and then lifted his mask just up his nose, slowly moved his hand under your T-shirt to your stomach, and soon your T-shirt was nowhere to be seen, so that now you were in a white bra only.

"Damn it, how I missed them."

The man spoke and placed his lips on your stomach and kissed it gently, then slowly moved up.

"Hmmm Simon a bit fast."

Upon hearing your complaint, the man immediately take off your bra and almost started drooling when he saw your breasts so full and round because of milk.

"What a good girl you are, damn it."

The man cupped both of your breasts with his big hands and then bent his head so that he kissed one and then the other.

Before you could say anything, the man pressed his lips to your breast at full speed and then sucked hard with his tongue around nipple, squeezing it with all his might, more milk started to leak.

The man this time took both your breasts firmly in his hands and squeezed one harder to make the milk come out, when he pulled his head out, he looked at you, who had both hands covering your mouth.

"Honey, this is the best milk I've ever tasted."

You can ask me anything you want guys, l will try to write it, because l have no brain to think about it much, thank you for reading it ☆

#cod fanfic #cod modern warfare #cod ghost #cod x reader #ghost smut #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x you #simon riley x reader #Spotify

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