#palace pets au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gureumz · 8 months

Text

wide open

rating: explicit

member: heeseung

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

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

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

it's making your stomach churn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

your father's voice trembles now.

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

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

you swallow, letting his words sink in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he shakes his head.

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

olivia eyes you worriedly while yuna nods in agreement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"the king is waiting," he adds.

---

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

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

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

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

"of course," you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

everything was a blur after that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

you meet her eyes through the mirror and nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

olivia and yuna both nod in understanding.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"enter," comes a voice from inside.

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

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

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

your eyes meet and the king straightens in his seat.

"your grace—"

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

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

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

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

"to celebrate your arrival," he continues.

you dip your head low.

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

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

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

the king sees your expression and pauses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"you can call me heeseung," he clarifies.

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

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

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

"my betrothed."

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

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

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

"come. the banquet should be starting soon."

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

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

---

it turns out, a week flies by extremely fast.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he almost looks...nervous.

"my b—"

heeseung pauses, taking in a sharp breath.

"my wife."

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

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

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

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

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

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

you expected anger, annoyance, or even confusion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

a flicker sparks inside you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

both of you are stark naked now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"feel good?"

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

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

the thought sickens you to your stomach.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you nod gently, signaling him to go on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

your chest constricts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"they're wide open, my King."

#enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #heeseung scenarios #heeseung smut #w: heeseung

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e-nonsense · 14 days

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─── 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩

pairing. prince!jason todd x witch!reader

summary. royal au. bruce doesn’t approve of his son’s relationship with constantine’s pupil/ward , not that jason cares

warnings. pet names: little pet, darling. Tooth rotting fluff i guess?

a/n. fuck writers block. three fits in less than 12 hours? crazy. might make this an au, so feel free to send requests based on this au to find out more

wc. 1.1k not proofread

Jason rolled his eyes as another young woman walked away from him, throughly offended. This had been one of Bruce’s many attempts to find his so a suitable woman— one that wasn’t you.

After Dick had married Princess Koriand'r and left to live with her in her kingdom, Jason had become the sole heir to Bruce’s kingdom. Being the second oldest of his siblings. But before any of that Jason had fallen in love with you.

“Lost young prince?” your voice comes from trees, and Jason glances around frantically. His hunting expedition had gone horribly wrong, a group of trickster illusionists had scared his men and the horses away. Leaving Jason behind.

“Who’s there?” He ask, raising his sword while turning in a circle, his eyes land on you as you step out from the shadows. The sun makes your eyes glow and Jason thinks you’re the most beautiful things he’ll ever see. His guard is lowered, as his eyes scan you up and down, taking in your beauty before moving back to your eyes.

You chuckle and he swears someone had to have casted a love spell on him, he can’t take his eyes of you. “Are you allowed to be this deep in the forest?” You ask and he gulps nervously as you step closer to him, your simple grey dress trailing behind you. “I’m surprised you made it through all the wards I put up around here.”

“Plus the Chimera,” you hum thoughtfully.

“Can you not speak?” You ask, inching closer till you’re in his personal space. “Apologies,” you smile.

“No.. no I can speak.” He whispers, staring down at you before sheathing his sword.

“Oh,” your smile widens. “Well, would you like to join me for tea?” You offer, and Jason knows he should’ve hesitated before nodding but he couldn’t help it. The excitement in your eyes when he agreed would be worth it if you were truly planning on killing him. Either way he let you lead him through the trees to a cottage that past the border of the land of witches and warlocks.

“At least try to entertain the thought, Todd.” Damian scoffed watching as another possible — approved — suitor walked away. “Father has gained many grey hair because of your devotion to the witch.” Truthfully Damian had no problem with you, he thought you were a perfect fit for his brother. Kind, loyal, able to put up with Jason’s moods.

It was just Bruce’s paranoia getting in the way of everyone’s peace. When the king had found out about you, he called in a favour from a warlock to get rid of whatever love spell you placed on his son. Safe to say John Constantine was amused by the request but assured Bruce that there was no spell on Jason and the boy’s infatuation with you was purely Jason.

Jason rolled his eyes at the thought, “or Bruce just needs to get over it.” He retorted, crossing his arms scowling as another pride princess tried to near him. “I’m leaving,” Jason says, looking over at Bruce as he makes his escape.

It didn’t take long for Jason to escape the palace grounds, through he was sure he had ripped his suit jacket, not that he’d see the stupid peace of fabric as he’d already dumped his clothes for a simple white poet shirt and some black riding pants. He rode his stallion to the forest’s entrance, stopping in front of it and trying it’s lead to a flimsy fence.

The prince entered the forest with no care, the protective wards shimmered as he entered, and the path illuminated in the darkness. Something you had done so he wouldn’t lose himself in the woods when he’d run from the palace and seek comfort in your cottage.

He quickly followed the path, passing the border and swiftly making his way to your home. When he arrived Jason knocked on the door softly, waiting for you to answer.

The door is answered a few seconds later, revealing a tall blond. The man groans, rolling his eye, “not you again.” He grumble, a cigarette dangling from his finger as he opens the door properly. “Kid! Your boyfriends here!” John calls out as he swings his coat over his shoulder, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he pats his pockets down looking for a lighter before snorting and lighting it with his fingers.

“Well go on in,” John shrugs, stepping out of the cottage you called home. “Oh, tell her to stop sending her little ravens to check on me, will ya?” John adds before disappearing into the misty pathway.

Jason always wondered how the man never found himself lost, or perhaps John never had somewhere specific he’d ever be going, cant be lost with no destination.

The second Jason stepped into the cottage he was met with the sight of you humming a tune, the same one he heard when the two of you met. Jason smiled, walking closer until he could wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Hi love,” you say as soft spoken as always. His eyes watched as you peeled potatoes before he kissed your cheek gently, “hi sweetheart.” He mumbled in return.

“How was the ball?” You asked, mainly teasing but with some curiosity.

“Missed you,” he huffed like a child, “Bruce is always trying to set me up with princesses. Who wants those snobby little bastards? Not me.” He complained.

“Just because Dick married a princess— who by the way comes from a magical bloodline— he thinks I’m going to do the same. Kori’s nice and all but how is it fair? Just because she’s royalty, its okay that Dick married her.”

You sigh softly, “he’s trying to protect you. People have never trusted those who come from this side of the world, faes, witches, shapeshifters. Sometimes with good reason, not all of us have good intentions.”

“But you do,” Jason retorts. “You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met, and i don’t say want anyone that isn’t you…. Is there a way that i could stay here with you?” He asks and you shake your head.

“Not without your father starting a war, we don't want a repeat of 1843.”

Jason groans but understands, Bruce would assume the worst if Jason just disappeared again, especially now that he was with you. He’d assume you’ve kidnapped him or some bullshit to feed his ideals.

“Can i stay for the night then?” He murmurs softy, his nose nudhung your cheek. “I just wanna love you before going back.”

You find your resolve melting away when you meet his eyes, blue and green. “One night, then home.” You nod.

“You are home,” he mumbles in response but doesn’t press further, instead the rest of the night is filled with laughter as you teach him a new recipe he’ll be sure to share with Alfred.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd #jason todd drabble #jason todd oneshot #royal au #witch!reader #jason todd x witch!reader #enzo writes [📝]

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peachesofteal · 2 months

Text

The Lethe

An Ichor Veil masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 7.3k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Greek mythology au, modern retelling. Reader is named Persephone but has no physical characteristics. Smut, M/M/F, loss of virginity. Praise kink. Breath play. Pain play. Feelings of fear, jealousy, and anxiety. Mention of abuse by reader's mother.

The next morning, you wake alone.

You lay alone too, dread swirling in the cosmos, a thick, uneasy tension swooping over the palace where you linger, the protracted creep of corroded hanging moss, a thick curtain of dying green.

Memory is sharp. It’s fickle. It has a hold on you, your mind, your body, and your legs shift restlessly in bed, thighs pressing together.

Cerberus snores on the rug in front of the fireplace, lean and lissome and stretched long.

They open their eyes as soon as your feet touch the floor, shaking off their stupor and trotting over to rest all three heads on top of your thigh.

Pet me.

How could you say no?

“I really have to use the bathroom.” You whisper after giving each ear a good scratch, stretching tall, bones and muscle all stringent, but not sore. Almost nothing feels tender, you realize, and when you inspect yourself in the bathroom mirror, there’s no evidence of last night.

No raw, punished skin.

No puncture wounds.

You’re relieved, the impending doom-like feeling that plagued you the moment you opened eyes lessens, and-

A small shard of disappointment settles in its place.

Did you desire to wear their mark? To have them on your skin, by choice?

Your back is an ugly crisscross of fine golden lines, all remnants of the Whip.

These, you did not choose. These, you do not wear proudly, or at all. You hide them. You’d rip them from your skin if you could. Pull them out from tip to tail, scratch yourself raw.

You’ve already tried.

Your fingers find the faintest remnant of last night, a small dip in your skin the circumference of a tooth. Everything comes flooding back, the sting of your palm against the John’s cheek, the indulgent dig of the cuffs in your wrists.

They stole you.

Do you care?

You expect to feel more unsettled. More enraged, but it only trickles through like a summer’s spring, barely bubbling up through cracks in the earth. You feel betrayed by their thievery of you, but something else lurks beneath the surface, something soft and beautiful, threatening to drag you in with it.

It’s dangerous here, but not in the way you were expecting.

Maybe it is the separation from the wildest part of your being that has cooled your temperament, somewhat.

Only somewhat.

After all, you did hit John in a fit of rage, did you not?

A loud knock rattles the door. Cerberus whines.

“My lady.” A Naiad stands on the threshold of the room, your room, you suppose, her black clothes, nearly white hair both ethereally sleek, hands clasped in front of her waist.

“Um…”

“Your presence has been requested, if you are…” she pauses, delicately, jaw tilting with a shadow, eyes narrowing into slits. “Awake.” She sweeps over you, performing an inspection for something from head to toe, and you find yourself studying her ears, their needle pointed tips accentuated by such symmetrical bone structure, she nearly looks like a cat.

She regards you like one too. Aloof. Holier than thou.

Bitchy.

“I am.”

“Wonderful.” But it doesn’t feel wonderful, the word overflowing with acid. Who is this female?

“I’m sorry, who…”

“I am Minthe, my lady.” Why is everyone calling you that? All the time? You frown.

“Like the plant?” Cerberus shifts at your side, rising on their haunches just so, and she glares at them.

“Yes, my lady. Like the… plant, as you say.” Her teeth shine into a smile, forced and uncomfortable.

Something is wrong here.

“Will you be joining us, or shall I inform them you deign to continue resting?” Us?

“No, I’m well rested, thank you.” She inclines her head, graceful movement elongating her already supple neck. You study her, cataloging her razor-sharp fingernails, polished heels, chin length bob. She seems like an assistant of sorts, heavy black book tucked under arm.

“Very well. I will wait for you here.”

“My Kings. The lady Persephone.” Gross. Minthe announces you, stepping to the side to allow you entrance from behind, the removal of her in your path revealing a large office, two dark stained wood desks with two very handsome gods seated behind them. Bookshelves blanket the walls, and in the middle of the room, a magic made map of the cosmos glows, gold and blue light dancing across the black marble floor. There’s a giant leather armchair in the corner, wide enough for two, and a soft blanket folded over the back. It’s cozy, homey, a welcome surprise.

Your body aches. Desire simmers in the bottom of the stomach, skin prickling with a shiver.

How is it two beings you hardly know are so capable of making you so crazy?

“Darling.” John croons, rising from his chair. There’s a sharp intake of breath to your side, barely audible, stifled. “How did ye sleep?” He’s close now, close enough that you could reach out and touch him, if you were so bold.

A magnet draws you closer.

A collar. A leash.

Hades holding the end of it.

“Fine, thank you.”

“That will be all, thank you Minthe.” Simon dismisses her, still focused on you. She steps away in silence, and when the door clicks closed- John is on you.

He presses close, arm snug at the small of your back, forehead dipping down to rest gently against yours.

“Sweet Persephone.” He murmurs, thumb tracing the apple of your cheek. “Are ye well?”

“Yes.” You breathe. You welcome his touch, this affection, and it feeds a sapling, roots trying to take hold, trying to survive. To grow. To bloom.

His lips lay above your brow, long kiss freezing into a slow moment, and Simon watches with a satisfied smile, a loving glance exchanged between the two as John pulls away. “Have ye eaten?”

“No, she, Mint, brought me right here.” He holds a laugh at bay. “Who is she, anyway?”

“Minthe was once our consort, now she works as an assistant of sorts.” Simon says the slowly, and the room darkens, shadows building in the corners, flooding the cracks and crevices of the bookshelves.

Well, that explains just about everything, then.

“Your consort.”

“Aye. But ye dinnae have to worry, we’ve not been with her in quite some time. We’ve been waitin’ for-“

“Johnny.” Simon stands, moving into your space. It’s only his name, and still so much more is communicated within those two syllables.

Waiting for what?

“Would you like breakfast?” He’s smooth with the disruption, steering and redirecting the train of thought.

“We hoped ye would want to take breakfast in here, with us.” John explains softly, and you nod. A simple request.

“Sure.” You pause, considering. “Could I…” Would they still have them? Is it rude to ask? You’re not quite sure how it works. Is there a kitchen?

“You can have whatever you like, darling.” Simon encourages.

“Portokalopita?” Johnny chuckles, tugging you a little closer, mouth to your temple.

“Of course.”

The orange cakes arrive with a fragrant pot of coffee and some Greek yogurt, slivered almonds on the side. Your usual breakfast. You blink, suspicious for a half second before remembering-

“Why were you watching me?” Simon tenses. “I mean, it’s obvious, now, that meeting John outside of Hebe’s was not coincidental, was it?”

“It was not.” You tuck your feet up into the chair, shifting on your side with a steaming cup in your lap. “We have been… curious about you.” Your blood runs cold. The marks on your back begin to sting, a phantom pain you know does not exist, but still plagues you. Hurts you.

“Curious.” You croak. “Why?”

“We have heard stories. It is rare that we find ourselves so… fascinated by one who dwells in Olympus. John and I, we felt… a desire, to learn what we could.” John smiles, turning fully to face you, reaching for one of your hands.

You do not give it. You’re uneasy, like there’s a direness lurking in the darkness of the room, waiting to pounce. It’s an overwhelming inclination of trepidation, of misanthropy… much like the rivers spilling from this land.

“So, you spied on me.”

“We did.”

“And… you don’t see an issue with that?”

“I… understand how this may be unsettling to you.” Unsettling? More like a set up?

“I don’t…” You sip your coffee, trying to pick through a smattering of words. You must choose them carefully, you’ve come to realize, to get answers. “I don’t understand, why go to such great lengths? There are dozens of other goddesses, more beautiful, more composed, more worthy of your attention than… me.” You, Demeter’s daughter. Demeter’s failure. You, the goddess who rarely leaves her temple, the one who does not engage in socialite events or associate with the more powerful Golden ones in the city.

You, who talks to plants.

“I mean, look at Hebe, or Artemis, one of the Pleiades, they’re all-“

“No.” Simon cuts to the quick. “We do not care for other goddesses, sweet Persephone. We only care for you.” An undercurrent of power ripples, shuddering between the three of you. “Our affection, our care… is only true for you.”

“Me.” Because they do not know you. If they did, the affection would certainly wane. How long would it be, before Minthe was warming their bed once more?

“You, darling. It’s why we brought you here. To know you, as you are. Not as your mother intended, or how chatter portrays.” You look between them, slow eyes finding solemn faces, dogmatic in their assurance. “We had hope you might… enjoy our company, as we believed we would enjoy yours.” John shifts. It’s a fractured movement, barely perceived, but unsettled, and he cocks his head afterwards, gaze thick and focused on you.

“I told ye, we’d never hurt ye.”

“I know.” You whisper. You believe it now, to an extent. A pool of guilt tugs you into its current, an apology bubbling up over your tongue. “I’m sorry… about… striking you, last night. It was unbecoming of me.”

“I know ye are.” He soothes, and Simon interjects.

“The next time you feel an overwhelming urge like that, you tell us. We’ll take care of you.” His smile drips with a predatory gleam, and you’re suddenly inside a memory, the feeling of ichor sliding over your skin, spilling down around your fluttering rim, his finger pushing inside your body where you’ve never been touched by another. His mouth, covered in it. Golden lifeblood smeared across his lips, John’s cum spilling down your throat, molten earth, burning you anew.

What started it all? The idea that they locked your magic away? That they took you?

That they trapped you.

“I felt…” You tap over your heart, signifying the part of you that’s missing, and he nods in acknowledgement.

“I understand. It’s a difficult thing, we’ve asked of you, and you’ve done so well.” Your hands tremble, fighting the urge to preen like a raven beneath the praise.

It encourages you. Urges you to talk, spill secrets, let go of weights holding you at the bottom of the sea, where you cannot breathe.

“My- my mother. She used to do something similar. When she felt like I was out of control. When I became… too much. It’s a familiar feeling.” They exchange a long glance, and then John kneels, a hand on your knee, the other stroking deft circles into your thigh.

“Persephone. The scars,” Your eyes slam shut. “on yer back. They were made with a magical object. Did Demeter do that?” He demands, and you inch away, trying to create space, trying to escape this- this conversation, this vivisection.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You whisper. “Please.” His eyes are so blue. Like the Aegean, a venetian, crystalline color that deepens when he frowns, his emotions worn so plainly for both you and Simon to see. He’s distressed, like he wants to scoop you up, carry you away. They’re both staring at you with… pity. “Do not pity me.” You snarl, hackles rising.

“It is not pity you see, darling.” Simon shakes his head. “We do not pity you, or your strength. The story of your temple is known far and wide, even to those down here. It is sadness that we feel. With you.” The lump in the back of your throat is thick, too thick, and it threatens to derail your composure.

You push past everything else. The assurance you could come to them, when you felt like you were going to explode, detonate across the world, when everything turns white and you need your pain, your pleasure.

You’re only here for a day longer.

The rest of your breakfast is put aside, and you stand between the two with an open palm.

“Well, then. What’s on the agenda for my last day?”

There are many places in the Underworld that hold you captive, but Hecate’s piece of it, a forest of dew dropped trees with gnarled trunks and lavender flowers, vibrant mosses shuddering beneath your feet, a hollow thrumming with the wildest of magics, leaves you breathless. The goddess is just as striking, tall and elegant, deep black hair that swings at her hips, emerald eyes and pointed nose perfectly set in her face. Her skin glows, a sepia drenched harvest moon, and when she reaches for your hand, you swear you hear the barking of a dog.

“My lady.” She gives you a graceful squeeze before she releases and bows her head. “You are more lovely than the rumors credit.”

“Oh.” Your face heats. “Thank you.”

“The rumors say ye’re as fair as Aphrodite.” John teases, and your eyes go wide.

“Surely not.” You brush it off, but the tingle across your skin remains, flattery nestling in your heart. “Your home… is beautiful.” You try to give it back, deflect it upon her, and she watches you with knowing eyes.

“Thank you. It was born from me, as I’ve heard your temple was from you?”

“Yes.” She motions to a winding path that disappears into the thick of the trees, and you oblige, soaking in the sparkle of the wood. The magic is dense here, heavy, like water, flowing through all things, the roots, the leaves, the crows adorning the branches, following you from perch to perch. You don’t notice, when John and Simon start talking, asking Hecate a question about… something, too transfixed on the multitude of colors flourishing at the tops of the canopy, leaves and petals fanning out like a muted rainbow.

Again, you’re struck with a confusing consideration.

How is it the Underworld is capable of such life?

Hecate’s piece of this realm is alive, lush and untamed, resonant magic oozing from every spiral and cell in the moss, in the bark, in the air. Amethyst leaves ranging in size from head to hand fall from the sky like the changing of seasons, and the entire hollow breathes with it, power pulsing in a light breeze all around you.

Even the crows are thriving, living things. Part magic, part bird.

You frown.

“Persephone?” Simon questions, gentle hand on your back. It’s warm, and firm, pulling you into the touch, butterflies in your belly slowly cracking their eyes opening, greeting the day with a flutter of wings.

“Sorry, it’s just… the crows, they’re… alive?” Hecate laughs.

“Yes, they live. They’re my own murder, traveling as I do, between the Underworld and Olympus.” She holds out a hand and an iridescent, onyx feathered companion lands gracefully in her palm, preening. “There are many corvids here, now. Magpies, jays, treepies. They’re supposed to stay confined to the hollow, but I suspect some of them have made friends in Asphodel Meadows.”

“Now? Were they not here before?”

“No birds lived in the Underworld, before Hecate’s residency.”

“Hades allowed me a home,” she smiles at them, gentle appreciation aglow on her face, and then turns back to you. “a gift in itself, and so, I give them one in return.”

“You are more than generous.” John says. He walks close, hand lax at his side, fingers occasionally grazing yours. The touch is hardly a moment, fleeting, but it burns you through, muscle, soul, and bone shivering in response.

“Hades is benevolent, though they’d never let Olympus know it.” She murmurs, raven black hair catching in the wind.

“I’m starting to see that.”

“This is the Lethe.” Simon gestures to the rushing river before you. It’s not a river of hopelessness, like the Acheron, but something else. Something different.

It’s a river of loss.

“What… what is it?”

“The Lethe is the river of oblivion. She takes memories from souls, freeing them from past torments, or pleasures.” John is gentle, grasping your elbow, keeping you close at his side. You don’t resist, sinking into the warmth of his body, letting his steady comfort guide you away from where you stood at the edge, entranced by the low rumble of the water, the melodic call echoing from the rocks below.

“Or it serves as a punishment.” Simon warns at your back. The chorus rises, song reverberating, and you tip forward, away from John, straining to hear who it calls, the repeated exhalation of your own name.

“Persephone.” He warns, heavy magic blanketing the ground, cypress and white poplar drifting on the breeze, thick with the weight of his magic. “If the Lethe were to take you, there would be no returning to Olympus, or your memories. She is a power even we do not control.” She.

“She? What do you mean?”

“She was, is, a goddess in her own right.” Your eyes widen, the river hissing and crooning to you, desperate vibrato just on the cusp of her song, a sound sharper than a banshee’s wail. “Of all the rivers in the Underworld, she is the one to be feared. We can free a soul from the Acheron, or the Pyriphlegethon, we can forbid a crossing of the Styx, but we cannot return memories taken by the Lethe.” Simon draws you away, arm around your waist. “Come.”

John drags you back to the meadow.

He cradles you in his arms, opposite Simon, who sits silently, eyes half lidded, reclined on his elbows.

“Do ye like it here?”

“It’s beautiful.” You trace the fragile petals, white velvet smooth and soft, canary yellow pistils shimmering in the afternoon sun. “I love narcissus.” Simon’s mouth quirks to the side, turbulent sea settling after a storm when you look his way, and John tucks your back into his chest, heavy arm across your shoulders.

“The Underworld agrees with you. It is not every day the Narcissus sing for a soul.” His mouth is on your cheek. You press, pushing skin between teeth, and he obliges with a nibble, not enough to sting, but with enough pressure you feel the edge of his incisors, vicious points of his canines.

“It’s… not what I expected.” This is easy to concede. Easy to close your eyes and slip away in the web of them, their hold, their touch. Easy to pretend they didn’t steal you outright, they haven’t locked your magic away, they haven’t taken you from your only home.

“Would ye come back? To visit with us?” Your eyes are still closed, and you hold them there, fingers sliding through the lithe growth of grass, stroking across stems and petals, feeling for the pulse of their power, the magical force of nature existing the same in a tiny blade of greenery, as it does in every fiber of your goddess hood.

“Yes, I think I would.”

They lay you down in a crux of a hill, legs spread upon a bed of Narcissus, fragile blooms crushed beneath sacred weight, a cacophony of power joining together.

Your mouths meet, again and again, limbs and tongues and teeth joining together in a rapturous haze, a firestorm brewing inside you, a swell of power so strong you can feel it tearing at your skin, glorious and brazen, clawing at the cage. It is wild in your heart, in your mind, and only burning brighter as Simon tugs you close, a hand over your heart, his mouth on your breast, teeth grazing your nipple atop muslin, an insatiable god devouring at a mystical altar.

When he bites down, your legs fall wide, and John kneels in prayer.

There are many names for it, you know, but in this moment, it’s as if time is old, a god’s back bowed for you, his mouth on your cunt, sacrosanct promises running free like the rivers of this land, like the spring bubbling up from the depths of your temple, pulled from the land like John pulls pleasure from you.

Ichor runs. It paints you in gold, drips from Simon’s mouth and between your legs, mixing with the slick and spit swirled by Johnny’s tongue, the cusp of a cliff’s edge growing closer and closer-

But not close enough.

A gilded hand fits your throat, a collar made of divinity, and he squeezes, enough to make your vision spot, fingers digging into the dirt and roots and stems of flowers long crushed. John does not relent, only pushes you farther and farther against the edge, sanctifying the bond stitching between the three of you each breath you draw, the spool of Fate spinning long woven threads stretching to the end and beginning of time, knitting you into the patchwork of their lives, their eternal existence.

Their goddess.

Your Hades.

“Come, Persephone. Come for us.” Light explodes, forcing your eyes shut, and you tremble between them, crying out their names in near hysteria, celestial light bleeding from your skin like a star in the sky.

John gasps.

Simon tips his chin to the sky, and laughs.

Their room is quiet. Dark in the daylight, an empty burrow dug by a fox, pitch black emptiness as far as one can see.

“I’ve never…”

“We know.”

They hold you like treasure, like glass. Gentle words and touch, John cradles you in the cove of his body, magic zinging across your skin, sparks flying in the room.

Simon kisses the inside of your knee, arranging you carefully between John’s spread legs. He’s hard at your back, heavy cock throbbing hot on your skin, but he only grabs your hand to hold it when you reach for him, tucking you gently back into his cradle with his lips on your neck.

Is this what it feels like? Love?

“What do you want darling?”

“You. Both of you.” Simon, aglow in the flickering fire light, smiles at you and John, pride and glory, divinity still fresh between his teeth.

“Let us care you for tonight.”

You nod, and clothes vanish. John’s cock weeps in the cleft of your ass, his body trembling with effort to hold himself still, and you turn your face to his, letting him work his tongue into your mouth as Simon stretches you a finger, tiny explosions of pleasure imploding with each stroke.

Hands, teeth, tongue- a tangled mess of divinity.

Powerful gods, together mightier than Zeus, worshipping between your legs, glory abound in the sound of your moans. Simon gives you more, languid touch turning fevered, adding another finger to your soaked entrance, and you gasp, spine quivering in pleasure.

The gods kiss. Simon cups John’s cheek, holding him steady, exploring, deep and true. You can only watch, mouth ajar, taking in every lavish touch exchanged, Simon’s bicep flexing as he pumps John’s cock, a crease in his eyebrows when there’s a huff and moan.

“Darling.” Simon murmurs, thumb and forefinger holding your chin. John presses his lips to your neck again, nipping and sucking your skin, fingers ghosting over your belly and breasts. It makes you squirm, insatiable hunger rising in your throat, in your soul, and you yearn for them, for this, for it to culminate and flower.

Bloom.

“Please.”

“Ye dinnae need to ask.” John hums, delicately lifting one of your knees, exposing you like a spring blossom. “Look at ye, already desperate for him.” He strums through the wet mess between your legs, fingertips lifting to his mouth, lashes fluttering as he licks.

You want to correct him. Want to tell him it’s not only for Simon, but for him too. That everything is for both, a balance of scales, pain and pleasure and passion all revolving around the two of them, with you in orbit.

But your words fail, and John looks at you with eyes full of stars, endless night dotted in endless nova, like you’re the one being orbited, being loved, being worshipped on consecrated ground.

“You give us a great gift, little goddess.” Simon’s palm rests on your thigh, thick, swollen cock leaking against your skin. He’s big, bigger than you’re sure will be comfortable, a little bit of fear starting to pique as you shift, and he leans, an elbow near your shoulder, face above yours, level with John’s. Everything slows, Olympus stopped in its tracks, the Underworld holding its breath, and the three of you breathe, magic tugging and tearing at your souls, dragging you closer to the cusp of something unknown.

You can feel it.

“We’ll go slow.” He strokes your cheek. “You’ll tell me if it’s too much, yes?”

“Yes.” There’s a softness in him, intimidating edges all worn gentle, and his eyes are heavy, focused as he pushes into your body, fire and flood making your fingers dig into John’s thigh.

It burns.

It hurts.

It’s good.

The agony is decadence, sharp tinged pain morphing into fiery pleasure, burning in your soul and your veins. You moan, and John presses his thumb to your tongue, holding your jaw firm as Simon begins to move, carefully working you open with gentle strokes, gritted restraint clear in his jaw.

“F-fuck.” You hiss around the digit in your mouth, and they both watch, observing, waiting for a safe word or a warning sign.

Nothing comes.

Only pain.

Only pleasure.

“More.” You croak, and Simon noses your cheek, lips drawing a line up Johnny’s forearm as he strokes, hips swinging to meet yours, body trying to fold in half when he seats himself so deep you swear you can feel him in your belly. “Oh gods.” Your eyes roll back in your head.

You’re on fire. Burning in the pits of Tartarus, crammed between the gods of death, exalted through mounting pleasure and pain, twisted together in veneration.

Simon shoves deeper, up through your cunt to your throat, through your magic and out your mouth, insanity leaking from your lips like you drip around his cock. It’s obscene, the way he batters into his body, the lap of John’s tongue in your mouth, his finger against your clit, how you light up beneath them like a supernova.

“There it is.” Simon’s eyes glow, observing and inspecting, watching the way you take his cock, celestial light spilling from your pores. You cling to them, shiny like a pearl, iridescent and wild, groaning with each thrust.

They split you open, crack your very soul wide, broken cypress beneath an axe.

It’s an unrelenting pace, an lewd show of slick and tears and sweat- ichor that runs down your throat when John pinches your clit, inside of your cheek crunching between your molars like a meal.

“Ahh, please- please.” You’re rambling. Begging.

More. More. More.

“Sweet little thing.” Simon spits, cadence transforming into something slow, the subtle rock of a boat on the sea, nudged up against your cervix. “Perfect little pussy, made for your gods.” Plural. Like they’re both housed in one, experiencing together, breathing and fucking and biting, as one.

John pushes his nose under your jaw, iron grip lashed across your waist, holding you steady, keeping you in place over the reverberation in your chest of screams and moans, noises unlike a goddess and more like an animal, a tiger, a bird-

Simon slams into you. The pain is shocking, and you scramble, reaching for purchase, clinging to him, to John, explosion of stars illuminating your vision.

When he rains a hand down across your flank, your eyes roll back, slipping beneath the swell of pleasure and pain, a war raging between the two.

“Good girl-“ Simon grits, and you pulse around him, greedily, squeezing with another strike against your flesh, fingers dug into your hip. There’s a glimmer of darkness in the room, ebbing cruelty lingering in the corners, watching in wait, bidings its time, knowing it needs the right moment, the perfect crescendo in order to strike.

“Look a’ him.” John marvels. “Makin’ a mess of ye.” You blink up at them both, lashes webbed with tears. They’re beautiful, etched from marble, perfectly cast in the image of ultimate power, dark and decadent, decay and hope, sculpted together.

They will break you.

“Please-“ the plea breaks off in a gasp.

“We know, darling. We know.” John soothes, syrupy and smooth, a hand running over your ass with another whip of his fingers. He probes at your rim, lightly testing before pushing in, stretching, exploring, and you keen, curling around them, muscles burning red like hot coals. It sears. It nearly pushes you over the edge.

You want to fall with them, into them. You want them to take everything, to give you pain and pleasure until you’re not sure who or where you are, remake you in the image of these emotions, this wildness flowing between the three of you.

John pushes a second finger in beside his first, and you see stars. Three become one, bursting into light and bathing the room, touching over the bed and walls and gods, casting opalescence across their faces.

“Fuck!” you gasp, and Simon’s lips curve on your skin, voice low and rough when he speaks.

“Ours.” He vows, chokes, guttural. “Our goddess." He fucks you deep, relentlessly, firm hand gripping you flesh. "You can take it, show us your light.” He’s lost himself in you, and you in them, crying out as they throw you over the precipice. “Come, darling.” It takes no urging. You’re already there, praise and agony and explosions of nerves imploding, throwing you into an orgasm that has your legs locking in place around Simon, your fingers tangling in John’s hair.

You become light. Divine incarnate. Celestial dawn, touching the peaks of existence for the first time. It flows and flows from you, overpowers your senses, drowns you in a sea of exhalation.

Simon shouts something. His mouth finds yours, but you’re lost in the waves of your own pleasure, still holding tight to both, anchoring yourself through the erratic thrusts of Simon’s body, his hips jerking as he fills you with his own gift, a touch of divinity lodged where he ends and you begin, his hand wrapped around John’s cock and stroking until he’s spilling. Simon’s tongue on yours, on John’s, open mouths and wet faces bent together to make one, hallowed, consecrated temple, the planes of your bodies twisted together in the depths of the Underworld.

Your light shines and shines until you think your heart may give out.

Maybe it does. Maybe it bursts into stardust. Maybe it becomes theirs.

“Will ye have dinner with us? A last meal?” John presses a kiss to your shoulder, decadent and sweet. You’d forgotten about your need to leave, forgotten about Olympus, and the reality is somber. Still in their arms, and you already long for them, mourn them, dread the lugubrious return to your own realm, where your life awaits.

“The door.” You murmur, fingertips tracing over Simon’s chest, the hallowed ground where your head lays, where you listen to the steady thump of his heart. “Will you show me?”

“After dinner. Please.” John murmurs it into your skin, and though it’s a shattered promise waiting in the wings, there is nothing in you deciding to protest or say no, not when he tugs you free, rolling you onto your back so Simon can tuck you into his arms. “After dinner, we’ll show you.”

He spreads your legs, stroking a finger through the seam of your cunt, watching lazily with heavy lids as you whimper.

An offering he will give.

An offering you will receive.

“After dinner, then.”

You wake to an empty bed, much like this morning.

“John? Simon?” The sheets are soft against your skin, but there’s bitterness in the air, magic like death lingering in the room.

It feels like rot.

The door is ajar, barely. It allows light to spill in across black marble, the faint, sharpened pitch of an argument echoing down the hall.

You sit up.

What’s happening?

There’s a wine-red robe draped over the edge of the bed, and you don it, quickly, quietly slipping down the onyx halls, straining to listen.

“The Fates decided, and they chose benevolently. We are honored by such a gift.” The Fates decided what? There’s a strangled, indignant laugh. A female’s.

Power snaps, rough and wild.

“You cannot possibly mean to make this… this goddess of spring your Queen.” What? Acid brews in the pit of your stomach, swirling together and forcing you forward, desperation on the balls of your feet. Is that Minthe? Is she talking about you?

“Persephone is to be our wife; ye will speak of her with respect or not at all.” John snaps. You’re what?!

“We have waited, and would wait centuries more, to receive her. Her presence brings an eternal season, to us, to all who would love her, here in the Underworld.”

“But you do not truly care for her.” You tremble. A sea devours you, pulls you beyond the black water, down into the trenches, far deeper than anyone ever knew existed. There, it tosses you side to side, virulent rage and sorrow rising beneath your feet, pushing you back up to where you break the surface.

And break free.

The agony in your heart shatters the strongest magic, draws your own power back into yourself, twists it together to become something more, something wicked, something villainous.

Ungovernable Persephone.

“It is more than care. It is devotion, an all-consuming passion. One you would not understand.”

“But she’s a freak! A shut in li-“ Minthe’s words do not continue. They flail in her throat, the same way her soul does as you appear around the corner and twist it, making it malleable, ripping and tearing until it grows anew, sprouting with vigor into a new form.

The ground shakes. John shouts something at you, but you’re far past reason, far past explanation, and now there is only Demeter’s vengeful daughter, a wicked soul.

Rotten to the core.

Your magic swells. The palace trembles, and you feel the flow of life, Hecate’s grotto, the souls, Asphodel meadows. Every bloom and blossom cry out with you, and you scream your rage into a terrible power, one with thorns and vitriol. They surge together, and you draw from them like drinking from a river, pulling and pulling until you can no longer see, or hear, lost in the wind, the bliss of your wicked soul, your weaponized magic.

“Persephone.” A gentle voice calls, Hands cradle your face, a thumb smoothing your brow. “She cannot hurt you, Persephone. Stop this. Now.” A demand, sweeter than primrose and lily, drips like nectar against the will of your rage. “It’s alright. There is nothing to fear.” He murmurs, empyreal restraints tightening at your wrists, harnessing your power, redirecting it into the ether, commanding it still and steady.

When your vision clears, it’s horror you face.

Horror of your own doing.

You stumble away, clutching the robe to your chest, mouth agape.

On the floor between you and the Kings of the Underworld, is a small mint plant. It sprouts from a tiny clump of dirt, timid and frail.

It harbors a soul.

It harbors your wrath.

You are a monster.

“No, darling-“ John tries to reach for you, but Simon stops him, an arm out, catching him at the waist. There is sadness on one face, aloof calm on another.

Are these really the gods you gave yourself to? The ones you believed would care for you?

You are a fool.

You turn for the door and run.

You’re sprinting towards a river.

In the dark, you can’t be sure which it is. You’re not sure of anything, in these moments, these shattered clips that fracture your heart, the confusion that ricochets inside your brain, a silver pinball bouncing off walls with lights and noises exploding in the silence. Everything competes with the rush of a river, roaring swell crashing against rock, humming alive in the dead of night.

Their wife.

They brought you here to be their wife.

You laugh out loud to the cool, crisp air.

A fool.

Fate’s tool.

They weren’t interested in you. You aren’t special. You’re only a sanctimonious fortune from the The Moirai. Something promised. Something they feel you deserve.

Something you have no choice in, again.

But would you choose it?

Simon’s words ring in your ears.

“Persephone is to be our wife; you will speak of her with respect or not at all.”

“We have waited, and would wait centuries more,”

“It is more than care. It is devotion, an all-consuming passion. One you would not understand.”

The Fates.

The Fates decided.

The Fates decided to honor them… with a gift.

A gift.

You laugh again. It catches, hysterically, building and building into an explosion, a wild streak of pain taking root in your heart, and beneath your feet, Narcissus blooms. Even at a full sprint, the rage in your voice is palpable, and it breaks, cracking your chest wide with a sob.

They were never going to let you go.

They do not care for you. They only care for what has been bestowed to them. Their gift.

Not you. Not Persephone.

“Persephone!” A shout in the distance echoes over the valley, and only urges you faster, feet flying through a meadow. No flowers grace your shins, only grey grass, silvered in the moonlight.

Another voice calls to you.

The promise of oblivion. Of freedom. Memories laid to waste in her path, scars and agony and heartbreak all put to rest, buried beneath a mountain built of abeyance, weightless in the face of true nirvana.

Freedom.

Freedom from this truth, this betrayal. Freedom from your own stupidity, your foolishness washed away, soul wiped clean. Freedom, from the crack of your mother’s Whip, a magical object sculpted from the breadth of her power, built to hurt only you, for eternity.

You stand at the water’s edge. She’s too strong, and you cannot pull away, feet glued to the riverbank, fixed upon the rage of her waters, the power behind the swell.

Would it be so terrible?

You see Hebe. Melia. Nell. Their light, their laughter. The way their smiles sculpt their faces, how their power tastes when it infects the air. Your friends, forgotten.

But still she calls. She lashes her power to your own, strips of bark laid against your soul, binding you to her, tugging you closer and closer to the water.

You dig in your heels. The cacophony thunders, drowning everything else out, the scream of your name, the haunting in your heart.

You fight.

You fall.

Simon has never felt such terror.

Ichor turns cold in his chest, fear and panic rising into a tidal wave, an epic monster of emotion, filling his lungs with leaded salt water, choking out his last breath.

“Simon!” John shouts. He pushes his power into the river, cutting the current effectively in half, slowing its pace to a trickle. It will be enough, to find you.

It won’t be enough to save you.

Simon stands motionless. He cannot see anything, except the memory of your fall. Slipping into the river, disappearing beneath the water that will take your mind, your memories. The intricate pieces that make you, you.

He does not deny he had considered it. Allowed it to darken his mind, disrupt his intentions. He discussed it at length even. Argued with Johnny about bathing you in the water, bringing it in through a spring, disguising it as something it was not. Something safe.

“If she bathes in the Lethe, we will be all she has ever known, Johnny. She will no longer hold the pain, the torment from her mother’s hand, she will not carry the grief, the guilt of leaving Olympus behind. She will be ours. Wholly.”

“Ye’re talking about erasing who she is. The things that make her ours. Without them… what is she? An empty soul. A husk. Ye know what they’re like after they bathe in the Lethe. Ye cannae possibly want that for our wife.”

Johnny was right, of course. A million little pieces made up the goddess that you were, and Simon was a selfish being. He wanted every single one.

But now…

Johnny finds you in the bend of the river, limp and unmoving.

You’re almost gone. Simon knows it, can see it, can taste it. He can hear the realm, weeping for you. Your meadow, covered in Narcissus, each flower’s face wet with tears for you.

“Open yer eyes, Persephone.” John shakes you roughly, grip tight with panic, and then cradles your head to his chest like a babe, rocking back and forth. “Come on, little goddess. I’m here, we’re right here. We’ve got ye.” You’re silent. Near death, eyes and skin a thin membrane, everything washed away in the Lethe.

You’re gone. They’ve lost you.

Your heart slows. Your breathing stutters.

He’s been here before. He knows this feeling all too well. The frightening emptiness that even he, Hades, cannot combat.

“Simon.” John snaps. His hand hovers over your diaphragm, more magic, more power releasing into your body, filling you with all that he can give, all that you will take.

They’ve lost you. Before they even had a chance.

Too proud. Too arrogant. A monster on a throne.

He caused this.

“She is not gone, Simon. Help me.” John hisses, tenacious and hopeful. Strong. Simon’s compass in the dark. The brightest star in his sky. Forever buoyant.

Unstoppable John MacTavish.

Ungovernable Persephone.

And… him.

Your skin is cold, ice, and you’re so delicate in John’s arms, so broken, that Simon considers falling into the Lethe himself, just for a moment. “We need to get her inside.” John rocks you, cooing above your ear, trying to soothe the radiating distress, the rattle of your chest. “Sh-sh-shhh. Ye’re safe. We’ve got ye.”

Simon tugs all his power around you and Johnny like a jacket, a blanket tucked snug on your shoulders. It warms you, easing the shivering and jerking, and he holds it there, unleashing the untouched depths of his power, of Johnny’s, of this realm, forcing it into your soul the only way he knows how.

An idea blossoms in his heart. One born of midnight flower, bat orchid and hellebore, black dahlia and elderberry. Framed by the flowering vines that cover the outside of your chambers.

It’s an idea blooming from the very essence of your magic, your goddess-hood.

It’s reactionary. It’s wicked.

Rebirth.

Split your soul, and theirs, again. Merge their power, and yours.

Wed you.

“Johnny.” He whispers. He steps closer, hovering, a hand strong on the back of his neck, the other cupping your cheek.

“We shouldnae.” He shakes his head. “I cannae do it.”

“We must.”

“She will ne’er forgive us.” He cradles you tighter, almost defensively. You moan, the sound wretched and pained, and Johnny pales.

“The Lethe has taken her from us. She is fading, I know you can feel it.” Johnny slams his eyes shut, brow quivering. “Look at me.”

“Si.”

“This is our only option.” For every protest, he has an answer. For every reason why not, he provides an alternative. It snakes forward, through John’s rebuttal, through the time it takes for Simon to pull both him and you into his arms, on the banks of the Lethe in one moment, in the din of their bedroom another.

“She might remember, one day.” John lays you on their bed, the rasp of your lungs only increasing with each moment. “Her magic is strong.”

“Then we will beg for forgiveness and hope her vengeful spirit gentles.”

#peaches writes #AIV #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #simon riley #john mactavish #john soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #simon ghost riley

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sunderwight · 3 months

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thinking about reverse SVSSS AU where the demon characters are human and the human characters are demons (LBH is still both), but cultivation society operates more like MDZS so that the demon characters can preserve their ruthless clan politics and inheritance systems, and but demon society (which the formerly human characters are now part of) operates more like the ghosts in TGCF, where it's mostly a free-for-all of powerful demons establishing whatever kind of system they please in whatever space they can carve out. I think that'd preserve the meritocracy elements and "twelve different sects in a trench coat" qualities that cang qiong has as an organization.

so the peaks are instead these sort of liminal space cities which are ruled by the most powerful/influential demons, who choose their successors (at least ostensibly) based purely on talent and ability. instead of the sprawling alternate dimension demonic realms of PIDW, they're more like pocket dimensions which can only be accessed if you know the secret ways, existing in the shadows of otherwise seemingly normal towns, mountains, cities, forests, etc. humans sometimes wander into them by mistake, although whether they can get back out again or not depends a lot on which demon lord's domain they were unlucky enough to stumble upon.

Mobei Jun and Sha Hualing are still the heirs of their respective sects/clans, which are among the most powerful sects around. The CQMS peak lords are the rulers of twelve allied demon settlements. Tianlang Jun was the heir of the strongest sect, sort of like Wen Ruohan if Wen Ruohan's biggest motivation was to have his Hot Girl Summer rather than conquering everything, but after his and Zhuzhi Lang's disappearances their sect lost a lot of clout. Su Xiyan hailed from a wealthy demon phantom palace, known for its exceptional hostility towards humans (this version of HHP definitely literally eats people).

The demons-turned-humans are still exactly as cutthroat and dubious as in PIDW. Sha Hualing still wants to kill her father to take his position, Mobei Jun's uncle still tries to assassinate him, the cultivation world has an underground business in trafficking demon body parts (officially decried, but unofficially often consumed to help boost cultivation or create certain tools), the sects often go to war with one another and tend to wreak havoc on the secular human governments and societies whenever they do. All that sort of stuff.

On the humans-turned-demons end, demons in this setting are sometimes born the same way as humans -- two parents of compatible genital orientation get it on and some months later etc etc, which is how siblings like Liu Qingge and Liu Mingyan happen. But sometimes demons also just sort of manifest out of concentrated pockets of demonic energy. Some demons come from humans (SJ and YQY were both born from the unquiet ghosts of slave children), some come from animals (SQH was a pet hamster who was tormented enough to become a demon hamster, and then cultivated enough to take on a human shape), some come from collisions of powerful elemental forces such as volcanoes or floods (Su Xiyan).

So demons have a lot of apprenticeship and teacher-and-student style familial relationships, and demons looking to build families often will risk venturing out into the human realms and trying to find other isolated demons to bring into their fold. Demons alone in the human world are highly vulnerable to being hunted, killed, or enslaved. This is also why there's such a high percentage of "orphans", and contributes even more to a demon like SJ (no parents) resenting a demon like Luo Binghe (found and adopted by a kindly older demon almost right away).

So in the original PIDW, Luo Binghe is a kid who thinks he's a demon and grows up under the cruel and resentful talons of the Lord of Qing Jing, Shen Qingqiu. Every twenty or so years the demon settlements manifest much more strongly in the human realms, during which time they are a lot more vulnerable to attacks from humans. To help deal with this this, the demon rulers traditionally host big, dramatic, scary events that bring everyone within a certain geographic range together, the better to put any righteous sects off the idea of trying to single them out and attack. Most of the smaller settlements clear out entirely in preparation, leaving "ghost towns" where the buildings appear but the demons and anything too valuable to risk leaving behind are all gone.

This Demonic Alliance Conference is a time for contests, trials, matchmaking, partying, festive hunts, trading, and big displays of power. What could be a massive weakness instead becomes a big celebration, and a time for mingling and making new connections.

In PIDW, after suffering years of abuse at the hands of his cruel master, Luo Binghe attends the DAC in hopes of securing some better place for himself in demonic society. But when the righteous sects launch an unprecedented attack on the event, his human heritage is revealed, and Shen Qingqiu tosses him into the twilight space between realms in disgust. Binghe is forced to navigate the hollow and desolate place, locked into his newly-revealed and very weak human form, until he bonds with the legendary Xin Mo blade and effects his escape. Then he sets about bringing the righteous sects to heel (his bloodline means he's heir to one of the biggest sects around, even if they've fallen on hard times the past 20 or so years) and of course conquering the demon realms, and taking revenge on Shen Qingqiu, all while accumulating a record number of wives.

Shen Yuan transmigrates into Demon Lord Shen Qingqiu, ruler of Qing Jin settlement, a haunted bamboo forest in the most cursed mountain range ever.

Downsides -- he's of course destined to be dismembered and/or shoved into a pickle pot by the protagonist.

Upsides -- he's a demon with amazingly awesome demon traits! He has talons! Fangs! WINGS! Also, Binghe is a little demon bun and he is so cute, like a puppy with his fluffy wolf ears and baby claws and darling bright red eyes. Who could ever persecute such an adorable monster boy?! His tail literally wags when he's excited!

Plus Shen Yuan gets to spend as much time investigating cool beasts and other demons as he likes. He's in heaven. Well, not literally of course, but for his standards. Pretty close. Almost worth the price of admission!

#svsss #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain #bingqiu #for this I think also that heavenly demons aren't really a thing #so lbh is actually more over-powered on his human side thanks to the sect/clan system and the political weight of his bloodline

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salaciousdoll · 7 months

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✩˚｡⋆ ⋆ ⋆ His Messy Dolly ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡✩

･˳ . ⋆ Featuring Jugram Haschwalth x doll wife!Fem!reader ･˳ . ⋆

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Be advised to the warnings of smut, Modern!royal! Au, dollification( just a little bit shown), dirty talking, pet names( Angel, doll, slut, etc.), Dark Content, reader is fucked good and messy, Jugram is obsessed with you even if you only had a year with each other before the arranged marriage happens, arranged marriage au!, reader has a small panic attack on her wedding day, reader almost turns into bridezilla, spitting, impact play( gripping thighs, holding hips tightly, etc.), small temperature play with ice, breeding kink, squirt mention, you’re both a creamer and squirter, quickie, late to your own wedding, praise kink up 100 here, degradtion kink is down 50, pussy drunk! Jugo, dick drunk!reader, let me know if I missed something… Wc: 2.5k

Minors do not interact, 18+

ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•ﾟNote from Salaciousdoll: this may not be my best and I am so sorry to the people who expected more. I didn’t finish this until today but I hope you can still enjoy it. Please tell me if Jugram is ooc because I think I wrote him a little ooc, just be nice about it. Anyways, welcome to the second week and fic of my kinktober and no nut November event!!

Salaciousber Masterlist Taglist

Being the daughter of a victorious king has its ups and downs. Ups because of the princess treatment you get and the pretty gowns you get to wear to every event or even causally some days. You always dress and act your best around any of your mother and father’s company.

Growing up in a palace or being the princess has its downs when you have to act ladylike at all times, be on your best behavior because if you don't, a pinch to the arms or ears will pull you together. Being the princess of your father’s kingdom has its downs when you are forced into an arranged marriage based on the Kings of two countries' greed for power and hunger for money. Arranged marriage still being legal today will never not throw you out of your head.

You had a life before today. A life filled with so much goodness, treasurement, etc. you loved walking around in any outfit or gown with stares of men and women waiting for your father to announce your courting event. You were stunning to everyone everywhere you went. You walked with your head held high with the innocent lore in your eyes and posture. You were the admired one, so when the queen finally announced to the public that you were now courted to be a bride of prince Haschwalth, loud whispers and concerns from the public occurred causing the king to immediately silence their foolish concerns with whom you’re getting married to.

You and Jugram stared at the crowd with your head held high as your father and his father quieted down the crowd. With one look from Ywhach and your father, the crowd quiets down. Afterwards, you and Jugram announced your wedding day and invited everyone to join you two, which got screams of excitement and anguish from people all over.

A year later, your wedding occurred. The wedding was a hazard and a fucking playground of annoying kids and adults. You were slowly becoming a bridezilla once one of your bridesmaids forgot the dress due to her packing so late. You wanted a big wedding with family and friends, this was the consequence of going against your future king's wishes of a small wedding. You stared in the mirror at yourself and tried to smile as your cousin explained that your other cousin was running late from the bridal shop near your father’s castle.

“ It’s alright, c/n. Thank you. You may go, I need to be alone just for a minute please.”, You say as you stare at the crown that was supposed to be on your head minutes ago. You were late to your own wedding and you wanted to be swallowed up by the earth when you kept hearing the same orchestral music playing in the background.

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes until you heard a knock on the door. You didn’t say anything to let them know to leave you alone. You would think that this person would take the hint, but they didn’t. The person came in, shutting the door after themselves. You could feel a chilling and mysterious air around which means the person is your newly made lover.

You spoke to him with your head down, “ Jugo, I don’t think I could do this right now, I still want to marry you. I want to marry you so badly but this day isn’t meant for me. I can’t keep dealing with thi-”

“ Nonsense, my love. We can’t call it off just for one little mishap. Pull yourself together, princess. Or do I have to, perhaps, make you.”, Jugo says while buttoning up your corset to your dress from behind even after you thought you were buttoned up perfectly. He always loves to dress you up, you’re his little doll, his Angelic doll. He didn’t like that he couldn’t dress you up for today, so that’s why he’s here for touch ups. After he was finished with your corset, he ran his hand down your back to smooth it out and then back up to your shoulders to massage them. Jugram’s hands felt like your favorite lotion smoothing over your skin, God you were in love with him as he was in love with you just as much.

You bit your lip and looked at the time on the clock sitting on the vanity mirror thing, they could wait another ten minutes right? You jumped at Jugram bending to kiss your check, standing you up in the process. His hands were soothing your arms as he kissed from your cheek and down to the crook of your neck, “ Tell me what you want, my love. Want me to make you squirt or cream? Want me to fuck you hard and fast.” As he spoke, he sucked on the skin he could see, seeming that you had your wedding dress on and only the top of your chest was available to him.

“ Want me to leave marks on your skin, showing everyone what’s mine? Or do you want to leave marks on my skin showing everyone what’s yours? Choose wisely, Angel.”, Jugram was teasing you and you were so ready for his dick, but he just continued rubbing your skin in circles and sucking or kissing on your sweet spots.

You wanted to scream but held yourself together, “ Make me messy, it’s only right I get the preview of our honeymoon, Jugo. Give it to me hard and fast, but please don’t make me stain my dress. You’re not even supposed to be seeing me before I walk down the aisle, bad luck is coming our way Jugo.” Jugram smirked a little against your shoulders, raising his pretty eyes to meet yours in the mirror.

He turned you around and helped you on top of the vanity, not caring if it broke under your weight or how hard he was about to fuck you. You cared though, he could see the panic in your eyes and movements; he didn’t know why, but he was turned on from the panic spreading from your eyes and running out of your eyes and across your entire face. He liked the adrenaline. The rush of only being able to get you to panic, fall, or fold underneath him.

Jugram unzipped his pants with his left hand as his right hand was placed on the side of your cheek. He passionately kissed you, detaching his lips to whisper to you about holding up your dress right before attaching his lips to yours again, this time more roughly. You liked the feeling of his lips on yours even if they are rough going.

As you tried to bunch up the front of your dress to allow him access to your pussy, he detached his lips from the slow lip locking kiss with a string of saliva being the only evidence of the passionate kiss. He helped you and saw your pretty white lingerie panties causing him to curl his finger under the ban, snapping it against your skin, “ Please tell me you have more of these for the honeymoon, my love. They look so pretty and perfect for the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, darling.”

You smirked at him as you tightly held onto one part of your dress bunched up in your right hand that held onto the vanity table and your left hand held onto the other side of the vanity table, “ You’ve seen other pussies, my dear Jugram? Not very wise of you but as for the answer to your question” you smiled at him, seductively looking up at him through your eyelashes. “ you’ll have to find out.”

He almost chuckled at your stupid little joke, but he was too occupied bending down to plant butterfly kisses on your white lingerie panties covering your sweet pussy he loved to see and be inside of. He soon reached into the ice bucket on the side of you with the champagne in there— pulling out an ice cube to put in his mouth. Jugram went back to kissing and sucking on your clit through your pussy with the ice in his mouth. You squealed at the coldness of the ice on your clothed pussy, it felt so good to be true. So good that you might squirt especially with the little licks and kisses he was planting on your soaking pussy. You grew wetter at this little act of service but had to stop it, “ Feels s’good, Jugram, but I need you inside of me.” Jugram stood up again and licked his lips— savoring the little taste of water and your pussy.

He took out his cock and lined himself up with the opening of your pussy, “ Such an impatient little slut. I’ll give you what you so desperately want, my pretty bunny.” You didn’t know where the nickname came from, but you liked hearing him say it especially with his deep, pretty voice.

His cock was so heavy and thick against your pussy and you couldn’t take it, so you tried to move your hips up and down. Jugram stopped that right away with a firm grip of your thigh, his other hand moved your panties to the side earning a groan from him as some of your wetness dripped down your pussy.

Jugram threw his head back when he pushed inside of your aching, wet pussy. He looked so beautiful with his head thrown back as Adam's apple bobbed so beautifully alongside his mouth opening letting out a loud groan, “ shit, such a wet pretty pussy you have. Want to fill you up. May I?” You nodded your head tk his question— your mouth was open in a large O as he dug into your pussy. Meanwhile, the only reason he was talking so much is because your pussy always have Jugram vocal with you, it was a weakness to him.

Your head hit the mirror almost shattering it, yet you didn’t give a damn— not when you have a big dick filling up your cunt. Your pussy welcomed Jugram in as he started to move in and out of you. He suddenly snatched your dress out of your hands and held it to your mouth, “ bite for me, doll. Aughhh! Fuck you’re squeezing me here.” You bite into your dress, holding it up for Jugram to see himself go in and out of your pussy with you clinging onto him like a girl who never wanted to let go. The grip of your pussy on his cock was a beautiful sight to behold.

Jugram couldn’t take anymore and needed to make you cum, so he can finally cum inside of your beautiful pussy— it will be the first for this day. He gripped your hips and slammed into you with neediness, the slaps of his hips hitting your inner thighs were beautiful. Your muffled screams were loud while he pounded inside of you without a care in the word if your cream dripped onto his suit or pieces of your dress. Your hands were on his pelvis trying to stop him from moving so fast.

“ No no, sweetheart. Take it, we only have a little amount of time. Should’ve pulled yourself together like I asked you, my love.”, he says in between hard thrusts. Your eyes widened as you felt your insides tighten at the feeling of his dick battering inside of your sobbing, tight pussy.

He leaned in to look in your eyes— holding eye contact with you as his cock swirled inside of you because of the rolling of his hips slamming into yours, you were sure your pussy was makin a mess on his cock and soon tears were building up in your eyes as you tried so hardly to maintain contact with him as he fucked you so good.

The grunts and whimpers he sung was beautiful and staring in his eyes was even more beautiful. “ Mmmphh, I cdwnt, plesssss.” Your muffled moans were so damn cute.

“ Let go for me, darling. Let Bazz listen to you come undone on my cock. Let him hear you scream as I pound you through your orgasm. Let him listen to what he can’t have. Fuck!”, Jugram moaned as he continued pounding into you. The objects on the desk you sat on fell on the floor as he pounded your pussy with want and need. Once you take in his words, your eyes widen at his sentence and you let go of your dress from your mouth because of your mouth opening in a loud scream.

Your cunt gripped Jugram so hard that he had no choice but to cum inside you as you came undone on his cock that was pumping and stretching you out even more. “ Fuckkkk, Jugo, ahhhnnn.”

Jugo came deep inside of your womb, “ Fucking hell! Nhnn~ such a beautiful cunt for a beautiful woman of mine.” Jugram eyes were back to normal after his vision went white whilst he came inside of you. He took in your messy look and grew proud of himself. Your hair was messed up, mascara ran down your face because of your tears of pleasure, and your lipstick was smudged across your face. He looked up at himself in the mirror and laughed— he actually laughed. Jugram’s lips had your lipstick smudged on them and his forehead was forming a party of sweat across it.

He kissed your lips before pulling out of your messy pussy, “ ahhh! You did so good f’me, so damn good. Now let’s get this wedding started, darling. Wouldn’t want everyone to leave before they got to see your gorgeous face, now would we?” He tucked himself back into his pants prior to helping you pull up your panties and fix your dress.

He suddenly turned to the door and spoke in his authority voice to someone outside the door, “ Bazz, since you were so incompetent to listen, you can inform the makeup artist and hair stylist that my wife needs a retouch, please include that I’ll pay them double their original amount.”

You then heard a kick of the door and a loud groan, “ such a dick move, Jugo.” It was Bazz's voice and your eyes widened at how he knew it was him. Jugram sensed that was gonna be your next question and answered you, “ Could feel his presence and heard his little curses as he listened to me pounding inside of your cunt.” You looked away when he said the last part, you forgot how brash he can be sometimes.

Jugram grabbed your chin, “ Open for me, pretty bunny.” You opened your mouth immediately and he knew he had you with that nickname now. Jugram looked in your eyes as something dropped on your tongue. You couldn’t see what it was; you could feel it instead. It was warm and stringy. It was his spit. This only turned you on even more as you swallowed the warm liquid down your throat. You were going to love being his wife.

A knock on the door solidified this moment and Jugram pulled away from you with a smirk. He soon turned to walk out the door, not before stopping in the thereshold where the hairstylist and makeup stylist sat there wide eyed at you two, “ I’ll looking forward to seeing you out there, wife.”

You smiled and nodded at him, “ See you out there, husband.”

ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•ﾟ Tagging: @chosoist @honeybleed @simpingfor-wakasa @angelshub @bxrbie1 @sylisan @lilvampirina @deftrow @uzxotic @tayler17-84

#jugram haschwalth smut #jugram haschwalth x reader #bleach jugram #bleach smut #bleach fanfiction #angelshubnetwork #bleach x reader #bleach x female reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #x black reader #black reader #anime smut #anime x chubby reader #anime men x reader #anime x black!reader #fem reader #female reader

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ineffectualdemon · 2 months

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The problem with SVSSS Omegaverse AUs is if I want to keep it close to canon I have to ignore the fact that in any Omegaverse version Tianlang-jun was definitely the one to birth Binghe

Because I can't imagine an Omegaverse SVSSS where Su Xiyan isn't an Alpha who knocked up Tianlang-jun

Tbh if I was to write Omegaverse SVSSS Demon Omegas would be top of the food chain in the demon realm and omega/omega relationships are common amoungst top demons. Betas are second rank as they are useful for not losing their heads. Alpha's can be very powerful and respected especially when paired with a powerful omega, but most alphas are an oppressed minority and kept as pets by omegas.

Whereas it's more typical a/b/o dynamics in the human realm

And because of Airplane's bullshit Binghe is a human Alpha AND a demon Omega

Shen Qingqiu is an omega because of Shen Jiu angst but a byproduct of Without a Cure is it is basically a suppressant and Shen Yuan spends most of his time as Shen Qingqiu as basically a beta which helps him miss cues

Everyone thinks Shang Qinghua is a beta or they know he's an alpha but forget it because he acts more like a Beta. The only one who is always hyper aware he's an Alpha at all times is Mobei

Mobei and Sha Hualing are obviously omegas

Liu Qingge is a beta. This surprises most people but I argue that's why he's socially clueless

Yue Qingyuan is presented as an alpha because his Shizun wanted him to be but he actually is/was an omega though no one knows. Lots of potential for angst

My Qingfang is a beta

Qi Qingqi Alpha

Ning Yingying - Omega

Ming Fan - Alpha

Liu Mingyan - Alpha (people on the forums speculated that this is why she didn't get any sex scenes with Binghe but also forbidden romance was appealing)

Zhuzhi-lang....Alpha I think. Lends to how he lower rank in Demon society and has low self esteem

Linguang-Jun is a beta. The fact his nephew is an Omega and therefore more respected adds to his hatred

Which is all interesting but if it was Tianlang-jun pregnant Binghe would be raised in the demon realm by both his parents because Su Xiyan would burn down Huan Hua Palace to get to her pregnant Omega

Which means any AU I write is going to be far from main canon

#svsss #not safe for esmes #omegaverse #omegaverse au #svsss headcanon

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sfehvn · 6 months

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new religion part 2

Description: AU- Things have gone too far between you and Astarion and he's not sure he'd ever be able to give you what you truly want. Rating: M (18+ minors DNI) Word count: 1,804 Characters: soft!ascended!Astarion x fem!au!Tav

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Luxurious fur blessed your fingertips, stroking absently at the feline across your lap. You hummed a sweet tune as you continued your project. Astarion had the finest oil paints in Faerûn imported to nourish your new hobby. Looking at the canvas, well, it was very much a mess of colors. So much so that he would not have been able to make out what the picture was intended to be if he had not known. He would praise you all the same regardless. As a token of thanks, you had requested he sit for you in the garden while you paint him.

“You will be the first to have an original Tav piece. You can show it off when I’m a famous painter.” You joked as he assisted with setting up the easel.

The kitten that purred against your touch was also a gift. One comment was made about how you had always wanted a cat but never had the room for one; it was just another opportunity to shower you with all of the gifts you had so deserved. The joy on your face when he presented you with the tiny feline made his heart swoon. Astarion would admit he had yet to think that offering through, though. When you were not present, which was most of the time, he had to care for the wretched little thing. His feigned attitude towards the kitten, which you had so ominously named Georgie, was a facade. He had grown to find comfort in the furball curling up to him in bed in your absence. He even caught himself cooing to the blasted little creature on occasion.

Astarion sat in the wrought iron chair across from you, a forgotten book propped open on his forearm as he admired the tenacity on your face, tongue jutting ever-so-slightly from between succulent lips as you struggled to work with the paints. How could you be so blissfully oblivious to the beauty you are? He wondered, his head resting in the palm of his unoccupied hand. He had a burning fire in his chest, demanding he show you not only your beauty but that you deserved much more than the small cottage you shared with seven other occupants. Your rightful position was right next to him in his palace. You deserved to have everybody else waiting at your beck and call, not the other way around. You insisted you could not leave your family, nevertheless.

“Stay here with me. I promise I’ll make it worth your while, my pet.” The two of you lay bare, entangled in silk sheets and each other’s arms. Astarion stroked the delicate pink skin of your cheek with the careful tips of his fingers, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. His words caused you to let out an amused giggle at his bequest. His eyebrows knitted together, and a slight frown played at the edges of his lips. He was serious.

Your smile dropped, and an apologetic look graced your features. “Oh, Astarion.” You sighed wistfully. “I just can’t. Not right now. Papa’s not doing well; I can’t just abandon him. Lillian needs a lot of guidance at this time, and with Alan having just moved into his own home now that he’s married, there’s no one to take care of our younger sisters.” You sputtered out. Astarion noted the stress that marred your face and decided to drop the matter for now.

“Sh, my treasure.” He coaxed, pulling your head into his chest. “We can address it later.”

Astarion pondered on when he had gone so soft, for lack of better words. Before you, there was no hesitation to steal what he wanted. Much easier it would have been to just bite you, keeping you to himself for all of eternity. He had thought about it when the disdain of being apart grew too great. This was after you, though. You had brought a bright light into his world of darkness, and he knew you would never be the same if he made such a decision on your behalf.

Guilt regularly gnawed at a conscious he wasn’t even aware he’d had. He still hadn’t found the courage to tell you of his true nature. You often called the raised tissue on his neck his vampire bite, and he’d always panic at the joke, wondering if he’d been found out. Inwardly, of course, he ensured he remained calm and collected on appearance. Soon, he told himself. He’d let you enjoy the normalcy of your current relationship for just a while longer.

Your groan fractured him from his thoughts. “Okay, it’s actually terrible. Please don’t laugh at me.” You pouted.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling.” Astarion assured, setting his book down on the table before him, pushing back his chair, and standing up. He bent down to get a better look at the canvas. “My, that’s a beautifully eclectic rendition of yours truly.” He hums, resting his hands on your shoulders, squeezing in encouragement. He meant it. It was something you had created; of course he would love it.

“Okay, you are officially the biggest liar I know.” You grinned, patting his hand softly as he shifted away. Georgie stretched in your lap. You placed him down, smiling as he hurried away into the open door of the manor.

“Your words wound me.” He holds his hands to his chest dramatically. “I’ll display it in the foyer.” His finger reaches to tap the tip of your nose playfully.

“I guess it must truly be Astarion approved then.” You hummed, recalling how tumultuous he had acted when replacing the art in his foyer. It must be perfect, he had said; first impressions are everything, my dear. “I don’t think your guests would be in agreeance with you.” At this point, you had stood on your tip-toes, planting a sweet kiss on his lips.

He dismissed your presumption with a wave of his hand. “Nonsense, my love. You question my tastes? When I’ve got you on my arm? I’ve already won.” His index finger taps the underside of your chin, encouraging your mouth to his. You oblige, and Astarion lets out a delighted laugh against your lips. He would never grow tired of how easily you unraveled for him and him only. Without breaking contact, he reaches down to grip the backs of your thighs, lifting you from the ground and setting you on the garden table.

Your breathing hitched as his hands wrought at the bottom of your dress, pushing the hem up until it pooled around your waist. His fingers brushed your mound over already-soaked underwear. He clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “So ready for me already, pet? I’ve barely touched you.” Spoken like a purr, causing goosebumps to bloom over your skin. He buried his nose into your neck and breathed your scent in deeply. Chamomile and lavender had become distinctively you. His eyes close as your fingers tread over his scalp, hooking into his hair. “Keep touching me like that, treasure. I’ll fuck you right here.”

“Please. It’s been too long.” You murmur. It had indeed, he thought. This was your first day together after being apart for ten long, agonizing days. His fingers push your underwear to the side, the tips hardly swiping over your drenched core. The contact motivated your body further against him. Your breasts pressed to his firm chest, and he brought his unoccupied hand to sit atop them, thumb stroking delicious skin.

Greedy hands moved to the front of his trousers and at the feeling of his bulge, you ached to feel him inside of you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and tenderly pushed your hands away. Your expression was one of rejection that panged Astarion’s undead heart, but his demeanor was one of significance. He took your hands in his as he stared deeply into your eyes. “Stay with me, Tav. The manor has never been this airy without you. I mean- I understand you have responsibilities you believe are your own, but I could give you everything.”

With a furrowed brow, you sluggishly pull away from him. “These responsibilities are my own. This is my family, Astarion.” You pursed your lips, looking everywhere but at the man before you.

“Pet, don’t be silly. They are holding you back. I recognize you love them, but you cannot put your needs on hold to protect them forever.” He reaches out to brush the hair from your face, but you quickly dodge the touch, pressing him aside so you can stand from your position on the table. His jaw clenches in annoyance, but he allows you your space.

“So, what? My father will be buried beside my mother soon, and you are so selfish that you can’t even give me the grace to spend his last days with him.” He had never seen the fire on your face; your usual demeanor dissolved.

Astarion’s jaw slackens, and he shakes his head in response. “I’m just thinking big picture. Where will your sisters go when the time comes, Tav? Are you to give your entire life to them? How is it fair to you?”

“If that is what must be done, then so be it.” Astarion noted how heavy your chest heaved, your body shaking from anger. You were angry with him.

“And what of me?” He was mindful of how needy and, as you said, selfish he sounded but couldn’t hold back. “What do you want with me if not forever?” Indeed, you couldn’t expect him to house the entire cavalry that was your family.

You froze and gulped in a large breath to calm your nerves. Maybe you have been negligent of his feelings as things grew more serious between you two. “I want you, Astarion. I want everything with you. I want to take your last name. I want to bear your children. I want to care for you until we’re both old and gray.” There’s a crack in your voice as you stifle back tears. Astarion’s stare softens, his stomach plunging at the knowledge of only ever being able to gift you one of those things. “I’ve always dreamt of creating a family of my own. Of being a mother to children created with the man I love.” You pause to swipe at your eyes with the back of your hand. “But I can’t leave my sisters to fend for themselves. I won’t.”

Astarion observes you as you collect your shawl, exiting the garden without another word. He’d let things go too far. He’d led you to believe this future you dreamed of could be achieved with him and even encouraged the delusions in his own way. Perhaps you would be better off if this relationship came to a close.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #ascended astarion #ascended!astarion x reader #ascended!astarion x tav #astarion #bg3 #x reader #tav #reader

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moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

woo!! my little mix-up is a mix of in a week ( au character ) and fade into you ( specific reader )!!

poly marauders as royal guards to a sunshine reader? :) if it's not too much trouble

- ✏️

Thanks for requesting my love <3

join the party

bodyguard!marauders x sunshine!reader ♡ 683 words

“Princess.” James wraps a hand around your elbow as you try to go out into the garden, his grip gentle but firm. “Just wait a minute, Remus needs to do a sweep before we can go out.”

“But it’s leaving!” you cry, gaze fixed on the orange cat slinking into the bushes with something akin to longing. “He’s gonna scare it off!”

Sirius chuckles. “Remus is great with cats, angel. Knowing him, he’ll have the thing sleeping at the foot of his bed by tonight.”

“But where’ll you sleep?” James asks innocently, snickering when Sirius shoves at his shoulder.

“It’s so cute,” you croon, eyes so heart-shaped James tenses in case you try to bolt for it. “Do you think my mom’ll let me keep it?”

“Think King’s allergic, so no,” Sirius says, squeezing your shoulder in apology.

“What if we keep it a secret?”

James smiles at you, ready to indulge you in your hopeless fantasy, but then Remus comes back.

“All clear,” he says seriously, and James nods at him as you rush through the door.

It never fails to surprise him how quick you are when you want to be, and he and the others have to break into a jog to keep you within a reasonable distance as you dash for the cat, stopping a few feet away so as not to spook it.

“Don’t do that,” Sirius says breathlessly, but it’s pointless. You’re beyond listening, all your focus on the orange tabby in front of you.

It hisses as you get closer, and you coo, making little kissy sounds. James tries not to laugh at your obvious desperation, staying back so you can’t blame him when the cat inevitably runs off.

“Be careful,” Remus warns. “We don’t know if it’s friendly, don’t grab it or anything.”

“Oh, of course he’s friendly,” you murmur liltingly, advancing toward the cat slowly and low to the ground. “He’s just scared, the poor baby.” Your voice is light and sweet as meringue, and James’ heart turns to mush in his chest at hearing it. You start to extend your hand cautiously, and the tabby tenses, eyeing you warily. “It’s okay, honey, I’m not going to—” you gasp as the cat lashes out with its claws, drawing your arm back reflexively as it dashes into the bushes and out of sight.

Remus had to have been anticipating it, because he’s at your side before James can move, crouching beside you and taking your arm in his hand. He shushes you softly as you call out after the cat, and James exchanges a look with Sirius, waiting for the dark-haired boy to nod in confirmation that he’ll keep watch before James joins Remus beside you.

“I didn’t even get to pet it,” you say morosely. James frowns at you, patting your shoulder consolingly.

“He didn’t deserve you, angel,” he says, and Remus tsks as he turns your arm over in his grip, four shallow but long scratches oozing blood down your wrist.

“Let’s go inside and get you fixed up,” Remus says gently, and he and James help you up, guiding you back towards the palace as you cast forlorn looks behind you.

“This isn’t a great look for us,” Sirius teases you. “The three of us walking back into the palace with a bleeding princess.”

You give a little laugh, your usual levity restored instantly by his joking. “It’s not like it’s a grave injury,” you reply, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. “I don’t know why these two are acting like I can’t walk by myself.”

James chuckles but keeps his hand on your back. “Like Sirius says, it’s not a great look for us. May as well appear to be taking it seriously.”

“Some guards we are,” Remus agrees lightly. “Can’t even protect you from a feral cat.”

“He wasn’t feral!” you say defensively. “He was just scared. He’s misunderstood.”

“Whatever you say, gorgeous.” Sirius shrugs, opening the door for all of you. “All I know is, you’re never getting near an animal again that’s not pre-vetted by one of us. Too risky.”

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starryevermore · 2 months

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the house of snow (10) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his.

chapter summary: coryo haunts your every moment.

word count: 1,737

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: another shorter chapter rip, reader is conflicted, pet names (petal), not proofread

“Get out of bed!” your mother said, grabbing at your blankets and trying to pull them off of you.

“I shall not!” you protested, holding onto the blankets with all your might. She tugged harder on them, but you wrapped yourself around the edge she wasn’t holding so that you could become further cocooned. Your mother let out a frustrated shout before finally releasing her hold.

“And why not?”

“I…am ill.”

“The King is expecting you at the ball.”

“The King can kiss my ass,” you mutter.

Your mother shouted your name so loud that you were sure the Cardews, who lived on the other side of the square, could hear her. She made another grab for the blankets, yanking so hard that you were pulled out of bed with them.

“I refuse to go,” you snapped, throwing the blankets off of yourself and attempting to crawl back into bed. Your mother grabbed at your ankle, stopping you from getting much further from the foot of the bed. “Tell the King I am sick or that my courses have came and I’m in terrible pain.”

“I will not tell your betrothed about your womanly issues,” your mother hissed. “Why must you be so difficult? Weren’t you getting along so well with the King before?”

Oh, you were getting along with him, if only because you were playing the role of a dutiful bride. You called him Coryo, you accept his kisses and kissed him in return, you let him hold you. When you found yourself bored out of your mind at home, you would traipse over to the palace. You would pretend it was an effort to stay close to Coryo, but truly you only sought out the comfort of the vast library. (Though, it was not as if you despised his companionship like you did before. Was he poisoning your mind by keeping you in such close proximity?)

“I can get along with him after we are married.”

You barely saw your mother rolling her eyes. “You would best get used to getting along with him now. After you are wed, you will have to do whatever he pleases regardless of your own feelings on the matter.”

“I beg your pardon?”

She let out a long sigh before sitting next to you on the edge of your bed. She stared at her lap for a moment, then reached over for your hand. You were sure it was more for her comfort than anything for you. “When you are wed, there are things that you must do to appease your husband. To produce an heir, you will…have to lay with him.”

Your mother continued with an awkward description of what “laying with him” meant. To your chagrin, she did not spare any details about the discomfort you would experience with the act. How men are seldom kind with it. How, even after you gave him children, he would still force you into bed for his own pleasure. How you might never experience pleasure from it. Would Coryo be like that?, you wondered. He was like other men in a lot of ways. He could be cold and callous and demanding. But he was different, too. He let you be mouthy and do as you please. You often thought he enjoyed the way you would never just let things be. Coryo could be kind, in his own strange way. Would he be like other men, or would he surprise you? Would he treat you differently?

“…I think I might actually be sick now,” you murmur. You squeeze your mother’s hand, grateful for once for her presence.

“I don’t say all of this to scare you, dove,” she continued, “but I would be a failure as a mother if I let you go into this union completely blind. I would be like my mother. I would not forgive myself if kept the realities of marriage from you.”

And, suddenly, it dawned on you why your mother seldom cared for your father’s presence. He, too, was like other men.

“I …thank you.”

Your mother squeezed your hand back, then let go. She stood up, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress. “I will give you a few moments to collect yourself, then I shall send your lady’s maid in so you may get ready for the ball.”

You cannot change my entire perspective on how a marriage operates and leave like nothing happened, you wanted to say. But you still felt queasy. You worried if you said anything, you might be sick all over yourself and the floor. It would take so long to make you presentable again, you would surely be late for the ball. Coryo may be a kind man at times, but you knew him well enough to know that he would feel disrespected if you missed this event. Especially when he through all the trouble of planning it.

So, you nodded and took deep breaths, trying to control yourself.

“Well, if you aren’t the perfect picture of a bride-to-be, I don’t know who is,” Livia said, joining you at your side as you entered the palace’s ballroom. “It almost makes me wish I was getting married.”

“I’ll be sure to let your mother know you think so. There are still plenty eligible young men, and plenty of time left in the season,” your mother said, holding back a laugh, before slipping off to join the other mothers of the ton.

Livia nearly grimaced. “Perhaps I should have waited until you were alone to say that.”

You shook your head. “Don’t worry about that. She doesn’t mean it. She can’t tease me anymore since I hit back harder, so she’ll aim for anyone she perceives as weaker.”

Livia looked unconvinced as she watched your mother laugh with hers. “We’ll see. If I end up engaged by the end of the week, I will write you to a letter to say I told you so.”

“Or you could tell me in person.”

Livia blinked. “In a week’s time, you’ll be in your honeymoon period with the King. By the time I see you again, I could be married and off for my own honeymoon.”

“Oh. I…I forget that it’s so soon. So much has happened in such a short while.” And, oh, how you wanted to tell her. Or perhaps not Livia specifically, but someone. Tell someone about the secret deals between your father and Coryo, how Sejanus tried to convince you to run away with him, how you’ve pretended to like Coryo for so long that it didn’t quite feel like pretending anymore.

“Perhaps then I should remind you?” a teasing voice came from your side, followed by a kiss to your cheek. You painted a smile on your face as you looked up at Coryo. “I can’t have my bride forgetting such an important day.”

“You shouldn’t have swept me up in such a whirlwind then, Coryo,” you said. It still felt strange to call him by his nickname, especially in such a public setting. It was a bit more natural in private, when there wasn’t prying eyes and listening ears abound. This felt too…vulnerable. Like you were exposing yourself to the ton.

Coryo beamed, his pretty white teeth sparkling. Even if calling him by his nickname left you feeling vulnerable, you knew it put you in his good graces. You had hated seeing him so enraged at Sejanus, worried about the lengths he would go to prove you could not be stolen away from him. Calling him Coryo was the only way you could get him to see reason.

“Ah, but then I couldn’t do this, could I?”

In front of everyone, Coryo pulled your face close to his, planted his lips right on yours. It wasn’t his usual sort of kiss, all tongue and teeth. No, this was softer, gentler. A kiss that made you believe that maybe he did love you all of these years, that he did truly propose three times before finally getting to call you his. When he pulled away, a soft smile on his face, you had to force yourself to tear your eyes, to ignore the quick thump-thump-thump-ing of your heart.

Oh, but looking away was worse.

For it seemed like the entire ton was enraptured by your kiss with Coryo. So you looked back at him, hoping that the ton would fade away from your peripheral vision.

Coryo’s hand found yours. He intertwined his fingers with your own, his thumb rubbing the top of your hand. “I want to show you something,” he said to you. To Livia, he said, “If you’ll excuse us, Miss Cardew.”

Without waiting for her to say anything, Coryo pulled you away. He led you through the crowd, ignoring anyone who attempted to start a conversation with him. He was the perfect picture of focused.

“Do I get to know where you’re stealing me away to?”

Coryo huffed out a laugh. “I’m hardly stealing you away, petal. You looked overwhelmed out there. I thought you might like some fresh air.”

He took you out to the balcony that overlooked the gardens. You chose to focus on the beautiful rose bushes you could see, the white petals shining under the moonlight. “That tends to happen when everyone is watching an unmarried woman be kissed.”

A brow raised. “I can’t kiss my wife?”

“Of course you can,” you said. You offered a teasing smile. “When I am your wife. Until then, it’s private kisses only.”

“We’re in private now.”

“How convenient for you.” You placed your hands on his chest as he grabbed your waist. “Did you bring out here on false pretenses? Playing the role of my knight in shining armor so that you might continue to defile me before we wed? My, my, you are such a snake.”

“Would you blame me if I did?”

Yes. No. Maybe. You were never less sure of anything than you were about Coryo. He burrowed himself under your skin, tore you from the inside out. But when he was sweet, oh, he could be sweet. When he was like that, you were half convinced that your teeth might just all rot away. Snow was everything that you hated, but Coryo could be everything that you loved. Damn him for containing multitudes.

“Just kiss me. Please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

#the house of snow: a royal coryo au #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x female reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fan fiction #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus snow fan fic #coriolanus snow fic #starrywrites #starryevermore

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emelinstriker · 7 months

Text

{Eternal Servants AU} Wukong & Macaque ♡ Obedience

Art drawn by me + the OC is mine... Also the mentioned OCs and the AU itself.

My LMK AU's first ever fic, lezgooo- :D

This one's mainly just showing off the relationship between the monkeys as well as the Reader. The AU actually does feature some input from that one OC group of mine, even if they mostly operate in the background. Some of them do occasionally show up. It wouldn't be one of my universes if they had no input since they're all connected by this group of individuals... A good example would be CM from Castle's Pet, if any of my ancient old Quotev/Wattpad Undertale X Reader fans are reading this.

[TL;DR] Just your monkeys being wholesome while murdering another demon.

♡ ~ Fluff ~ ♡

Seated on your throne, you sighed as you waited for your purple champion's return. You sent out Macaque to retrieve an ancient artifact a demon stole from your palace's storage. Usually it wouldn't take him long to hunt someone down. After all, he was used to tracking down any that would oppose you and would bring them to justice. However, something must've happened since he obviously wasn't back yet. This was highly unusual for either one of your champions.

'Did he get into an accident?', you thought to yourself, now getting worried.

Your blue champion seemed to notice your sudden change in mood. He didn't even need to feel it through your eternal bond, he could just tell by looking at your concerned expression. He leaned down a bit as he obediently stood next to your throne, looking at you with his void black eyes. "Master, is something bothering you?"

You turned your head a bit to look at him. "It's just... Where's Macaque?"

"Unfortunately, I'm not sure whether or not he's still occupied with the thief." He responded flatly with little to no emotion. You hummed in thought for a moment before you turned to face him again.

"Wukong, I want you to check up on your brother... Help him if he needs help, but at least just make sure he's not hurt or anything." You said firmly. The monkey in blue moved in front of you and bowed.

"As you wish, Master."

And with that, he summoned his somersault cloud and hopped onto it before swiftly flying off into the direction of where his sworn brother left to hunt down the thief.

Across the land, a giant smoke monster could be seen fighting a giant demon in green and black. It seemed like a tough battle as the demon the monster was fighting was very aggressive and wild in its attacks. When suddenly, a blunt hit to the back of the green and black demon slammed the demon in green and black face-first into the ground of the clearing they were fighting in. Its body created a giant crater. It was still alive, but just barely as it laid there motionless. It seemed like the battle already weakened it and the blow to the back was too much for it to handle.

The simian piloting the giant smoke monster panted a bit from exhaustion as he smiled darkly at the fallen demon. But then he turned towards the direction of his ginger-furred brother, who was standing on his cloud with crossed arms, and huffed. "Thanks, but I could've taken him down on my own. It just would've taken a bit."

"Master told me to make sure you weren't hurt." Wukong stated as-a-matter-of-factly.

Macaque's smile turned from maniac to apologetic as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, with his giant smoke avatar mirroring his motion. "Oh man, did I take too long again? I didn't mean to make them worry... I just kinda got caught up with stopping the thief. He used the artifact he stole and it turned him into a feral titan." He added as the giant smoke monster gestured towards the other demon on the ground. That's when the monkey on the cloud quickly zoomed down towards the unconscious demon's body. It took him a few seconds, but he quickly spotted the artifact hanging from the titan's satchel. After he took it away from the giant demon, the demon's body seemingly shrunk back to its original size, still unconscious in the ginormous crater. The simian carefully held onto the artifact, as to not accidentally trigger its power, before his cloud flew back to his sworn brother. After Macaque saw the other demon's now normal-sized body, his smoke monster avatar disappeared around him as he stretched with his feet now touching the ground again.

He grinned at the ginger-furred monkey, seeing him hold the artifact the thief stole. "Guess now we also know what thing does... Did Master say anything about wanting us to kill the guy, or to place him in the punishment wing?"

Wukong shook his head in response, his face still not holding any emotion. Macaque sighed. "Well, damn... But I guess we might as well end him now than risk having him try to steal again, right?" He chuckled as he slowly walked towards the unconscious demon's body. The dark-furred monkey gave the demon a wicked grin, not expecting a response as he summoned his shadow staff. "Nothing personal, dude. Just making sure our beloved Master is forever safe and comfortable! Any who are at risk of opposing them in any way must be eliminated..."

And with that, he smashed his staff's thorny end down onto the demon's head, ending his life with one last strike. Wukong just gave the corpse a bored look before he uncrossed his arms. "Do you need a ride back?" The Monkey King asked, referring to Macaque's exhaustion after battle. He could just help the other monkey relax and calm down with his somersault cloud, after all.

However, Macaque just waved his hand dismissively as he took a deep breath. "Nah, but thanks. I'm a bit tired, but not enough to stop me from using my powers. Do you want a ride back though?" He grinned before he summoned a shadow portal on the ground next to himself. Wukong's mouth just faintly twitches upwards for a split second, but it was enough to make his the dark-furred simian chuckle in repsonse. "C'mooon, bud~ We both know my method's faster! Just hop in already!" If Wukong's eyes weren't like a fully black void, his playful eyeroll would've been very much noticeable. He hopped off his cloud, letting it disappear as he approached the portal, straight up jumping into it. Macaque soon followed after, closing the portal once he went through.

On the other side, you anxiously waited on your throne. While you didn't think any of your regular servants would harm you, you still felt a bit uncomfortable without at least one of your champions around. After all, a human ruling over an army of demons wasn't exactly a common thing demons respected. Only those who were already your servants in other lives would respect you fully... probably. And you had no recollection of any of your previous lives.

Your anxiety faded however once your two blue and purple champions emerged from a shadow portal in front of your throne. The sworn brothers didn't hesitate and kneeled upon seeing you.

"Apologies for the wait and for worrying you, Master. The thief ended up using the artifact and I ended up having to fight him to stop him." Macaque says, somewhat sounding ashamed of himself. He didn't like it whenever he didn't meet his Master's expectations. Even if something was out of his control.

You smiled softly as you leaned back. "It's fine, Mac-Mac. It was inevitable if that guy refused to face justice... I'm just glad you're alright and came back to me alive and well." The simian's frown turned into a bright smile as his tail swayed happily behind him. If you used that nickname for him, then he must've done everything right!

Afterwards, you smiled at your blue champion. "Thanks for finding him and taking him home again, Wu-Wu. Great job." You praised him. Now his tail was also swaying more happily. He nodded his head and grunted quietly in acknowledgement. Despite him not talking quite as much as his brother, and usually not showing emotions, you knew he was just as happy and content as your purple champion. His gentle tail sways were enough to understand.

The ginger-furred monkey then pulled out the artifact from underneath his cloaked side, still kneeling as he stared at you expectantly. "Shall I return this to the storage? The Archivist wanted to check on the items later today."

You scratched your head in thought for a moment as you hummed. "Guess that would be the best idea... If the Archivist shows up, then it's best if we have all the items that we borrowed... I don't wanna deal with his colleagues again, to be honest." You admitted, physically cringing a bit at the memory of your last encounter with the group the Archivist was involved in. They weren't happy when an eternal branding iron you used on your servants was stolen. Especially the Judge...

Wukong, knowing what you meant, nodded again as he stood up and bowed his head. "Of course, Master." Then he turned and walked away towards the palace's storage. Meanwhile, Macaque continued to smile brightly at you.

"Do you have another task for me to complete as well, Master?" He asked, eager to follow your every command like an obedient puppy. You hummed in thought again, but before you could respond, you heard the familiar voice of a certain mysterious figure in a black cloak and a fox-like mask...

"They do not. I have a task for you instead, Six-Eared Macaque."

The cloaked entity with the fox mask revealed himself as he walked out from behind your throne... When did he get here? Then again, he was one of the Archivist's colleagues, so you didn't question much anymore due to all they were able to do... You raised a suspicious eyebrow at the masked entity as you spoke. "...What task?" Those cloaked beings weren't to be trusted with how they operated. And while the Oracle usually spoke of the truth and was one of the more gentle-sounding members, you could never be sure whether or not there was malice behind anything their group did.

He responded in a blank tone, as if it were obvious. "The task involves going to the Underworld and retrieving the Scroll of Memory." Macaque visibly flinched slightly as one of his ears twitched at the mention of the Underworld, yet he avoided eye contact and remained quiet. The masked entity continued. "It's not the scroll itself that you might be interested in, but rather the curse that is bound to the scroll. That curse would be an extremely great addition to your palace's security." The entity added.

You grimaced a bit in thought, looking at him with uncertainty as you propped up your head on your hand. "Mhm... Are you sure this is worth it? Macaque isn't exactly fond of the Underworld, and I don't wanna make any of my servants, especially my champions, uncomfortable... Maybe Wukong could-" "NO!" Your purple champion suddenly cut you off as he looked at you, his void black eyes were wide open in panic, practically begging you to hear him out. He coughed awkwardly before bowing his head in a bit of shame and embarrassment for cutting you off.

"M-My apologies for interrupting you, Master... But I'd like to take on this mission myself, if I may." He said firmly, determination clear on his face as he tried to avoid this uncomfortable feeling of having to return to the Underworld. But he really wanted to prove himself worthy as one of your champions. He outwardly expressed his love and devotion towards you so much more than his sworn brother, and yet Wukong usually ended up getting more missions than him despite that.

You gave him a concerned look. "Are you sure? I know you don't like the Underworld after... Well, you know..."

He nodded his head without hesitation. "Yes, Master. Please let me retrieve that scroll for you."

After another short moment of uncertainty, you sighed in defeat. You stood up and moved towards your purple champion, petting his fluffy head. "Alright, fine... But if anything makes you feel unsafe or uncomfortable, I want you to just come back... Okay? I don't want you to get hurt, Mac-Mac. I'd rather have you here with me without that scroll than have the scroll without you." You said softly as you kissed his forehead. The dark-furred monkey blushed as his breath hitched at your touch and words.

That was all the motivation he needed.

His bright smile returned as he joyfully saluted. "Yes, Master! I'll make you proud!" You chuckled at his sudden eagerness. Almost immediately, a shadow portal opened up beneath the simian as he dropped into it, vanishing. Upon the closing of the portal, you raised an eyebrow at the Oracle.

"...Is this scroll really necessary?" You asked quietly, to which the entity silently nodded. You sighed as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

"It's not just for your safety, Your Majesty. It's also required to garner enough attention for the future paths to be connected to the present path." He responded flatly, which confused you. But again, you didn't question his words due to his occupation. And soon enough, Wukong returned from the storage. The monkey in blue walked up to you and bowed, as if to say he had finished his task.

You petted him as well, also kissing his forehead with a little smile. "Good job, Wu-Wu." And just like his sworn brother, his tail started to sway in a happy daze as he blushed despite his still expressionless face. He clearly also loved it when you called him by that nickname. The Oracle, upon seeing the Monkey King return and being showered in affection, quickly bid you farewell for now as he still seemed to be busy with other matters. Meanwhile, you continued to pet the ginger-furred monkey, waiting for his brother again. You even decided to continue petting him while your were seated on your throne.

However, at some point while petting your blue champion, a thought crossed your mind...

"Wu-Wu... If your brother isn't back within the next three hours, I want you to go look for him in the Underworld... And help him out if need be." Wukong's eyes were closed as he leaned into your gentle, addictive touch, while his tail swayed slowly behind him. He simply nodded without opening his eyes.

"Understood, Master."

[ Masterlist ]

#lmk esau #eternal servants au #esau wukong #esau macaque #esau x reader #lmk x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #lmk au #lego monkie kid au #sun wukong x reader #monkey king x reader #macaque x reader #wukong x reader #divine obelisk #emelin oc

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fadedncity · 2 years

Text

wc: 2.5k

pairing: hades!johnny x persephone!reader

cw: smut, greek gods!au, husband!johnny, fem!reader, pet names, teasing, use of titles (king, queen, your majesty), oral sex (receiving), fingering, body worship, finger sucking, riding, mating press, lil bit of praising, creampie, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, lowkey dumbification

song rec: won’t by tanerélle | aphrodite by rini | in a week by hozier | 7th heaven by quin

"Where is she?"

"Where she always is."

Johnny's long legs carried him in long strides through the palace, bursting through the doors at the end of the corridor.

The moment he stepped outside, he could already feel your warmth radiating through the entire garden, looking much more lively than in the past six months.

Johnny found himself out here more often than not with the wilting flowers and dying trees, longing for your return just as he had. Now, life was coursing through the entire garden, the tall standing trees rustling in the breeze, flowers blossoming all around his feet. He could feel your presence growing stronger the further he walked.

When he finally spotted you, you had your back to him. And Johnny could already feel his heart hammering against his chest.

Just laying eyes on you, it seemed his lungs were finally able to intake the oxygen around him a little easier.

Without even looking away from the plants you were bringing back to life, you spoke,

"What did I tell you about those boots in my garden, John?"

Johnny looked down at his feet and then at the trail of scorched earth behind him.

"Sorry," he mumbled. He kicked off his shoes and continued toward you.

You finally turned around, and Johnny felt like it was the first time again. You stood from the dirt, your long dress flowing around you and slightly waving in the wind.

Johnny's arms were immediately around you, pulling you to him.

Your heart had ached for this man for half the year, and it almost felt like your chest would explode, finally being in his arms again.

You ran your hands up his arms to his shoulders, one of them cupping his face.

"Hi." Johnny's heart melts at the way your eyes sparkle at him.

Johnny sighs, nuzzling his face into your touch, "Hi."

"Six months have felt like an eternity away from you, my love."

"I know. It's been hell here without you."

You laughed, "That joke doesn't get any better, babe."

"It made you laugh, though," Johnny grinned.

"Because it was terrible. Leave them to Mark," you patted his chest.

"Fine."

. . .

Anything he needed to do today was quickly pushed back to tomorrow at least, Johnny not wanting anything other than to be with you right now.

Your feet mindlessly swayed in the air as you lay on your stomach face to face with your lover. You rest your chin on Johnny's chest, studying the details of his face as if they would have changed much in the past few thousand years you've been married.

"Have you been sleeping? You look tired," you frown, noticing the dark circles around his eyes.

"I'm fine," he told you. The look in your eyes was enough for him to know you don't believe him. "I've just been working a lot, that's it. And it's kinda hard to sleep when you're not here."

You sat up on your knees before swinging one of your legs over his waist to straddle him.

"I'm sorry about that, baby," you pout, caressing his face.

"You should be," Johnny teased, pecking your lips, "But now you can make it up to me," he whispered.

"Anything for you, my King," you teasingly whispered back.

Johnny's hands on your waist moved down to cup your ass. You slide one of your hands over the silky material of his shirt, grab the back of his neck, and deepen the kiss.

Johnny's hands fell to your thighs, slowly pushing the skirt of your dress up. A shiver ran down your spine, your stomach coiling from excitement. Johnny slipped his tongue into your mouth when you dragged your hips against his, trying to relieve built-up pressure between your thighs.

Your back met the mattress, your head lying against the pillows as Johnny's body occupied the space between your legs.

His hands wandered all over your body, cupping your breast, squeezing your thigh; it was all too much but not enough.

Johnny's lips traveled down to your neck, softly kissing you there. He bunched up the fabric of your dress in his hands, pushing it up to your hips. He bit and sucked your skin, making his way down your body.

"So, so beautiful," he mutters between kisses down your stomach.

Johnny touches you like he doesn't have every inch of your body memorized already; as if it were his first time with you.

He pushes your knees apart, settling between your legs. He slowly kisses his way up your inner thighs, digging his nails into your skin when he hears the faintest whimper or whines fall from your lips.

With a subtle wave of his fingers, your panties are discarded to ashes. Any other time you would've chastised his use of his powers, but you couldn't care in the slightest.

Johnny's predatory gaze falls to your pussy, only a few inches away from his face.

"You gonna let me taste you, sweetness?"

You eagerly nodded, "Please, Johnny," you said so faintly it was almost a whisper.

Johnny smirked, lowering his head and flattening his tongue against your lips. You moaned, rolling your hips into his mouth. He teasingly circled your slit with the tip of his tongue before bringing his attention to your clit. You lifted your hips off the bed, raising them against his face before Johnny held your hips, keeping them pinned to the bed.

"Patience, baby. 186 days, I've waited for this. To have you again," he placed both your legs over his shoulders, giving your thighs more kisses, "So, I will take my time if I please."

He ran his tongue through your folds, your juices reminding him of sweet nectar on his tastebuds. Your eyes rolled back, bliss written all over your face as you lost yourself in the pleasure he was giving you. Johnny wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking on the bundle of nerves, resulting in your back arching away from the bed.

You brought one of your hands to his head, fingernails lightly scratching his scalp.

"Gods, John, please don't stop."

Johnny moans into your pussy in response. Your legs threaten to close around his head, but he doesn't give them a chance to, hooking his arms under your thighs and keeping them apart to allow him to continue to eat you out like a starved man.

The one thing Johnny wishes he could do for the rest of his immortal life, it's to give you pleasure. The sounds you make, the look on your face, the way your body trembles, all of it; Johnny wishes to be the source of it all for the rest of time.

"Johnny—fuck. Always make me feel so good," you whine.

"You wanna cum for me, baby?"

"Yes, m'so close," you mumble, nodding.

You could feel yourself nearing the edge before finally falling over. A loud cry of Johnny's name bounced off the walls, surely heard by the palace staff everywhere.

Even after already cumming, you couldn't help the thoughts running rampant in your head, feeling your skin burn under his touch as he lapped at your folds. It aroused you, even more, having him use his strength against you, knowing he can't hurt you even if he tried.

He left you with one last kiss on your knee before he sat up. You lazily watched your husband begin to undress. He noticed your eyes on him and teasingly undid the buttons of his black silk shirt slowly. You sat up, the fatigue from your first orgasm no longer existent. A smirk was planted on your face as your eyes drank in the man before you.

Johnny could see from his spot at the foot of the bed the lust swirling around your irises and practically smell your arousal seeping onto the bed sheets.

Getting impatient, you slide off the bed and stand in front of Johnny, hooking a finger in the belt loop of his pants, tugging him closer. Your lips meet in a messy, desperate kiss, your teeth and tongue clashing.

You slide his shirt off his shoulders before running your hands down his chest, letting yourself get refamiliarized with his body, having missed feeling his skin against yours these past two seasons. Without breaking the kiss, your fingers blindly undo his pants until they end up on the floor along with his shirt.

Johnny's hand snaked around your back, pulling you flush against him, untying the laces until the front of your dress fell. He kisses your shoulders as he slips the material off your body, leaving you naked before him.

Johnny wastes no time touching and kissing your body, worshipping you as the goddess you are.

You push him back onto the bed, Johnny's eyes practically turning black as you get on top of him. You sink your teeth into your bottom lips, feeling his cock between your folds. You couldn't resist the urge to drag your hips against his once again.

"I need you so bad," you whimper, your slick dripping onto his cock.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Please, Johnny."

"Whatever my Queen wants, she gets," he tells you before lifting you out of his lap and lining his cock up with your entrance.

Lowering yourself onto Johnny's cock, you're refamiliarized with the feeling of him splitting you apart in the best ways.

"You feel so fucking good," you utter.

"Gods, you're so wet, sweetheart," Johnny groans, fingernails digging into your skin.

You grin, lifting your hips before sinking back down onto his cock.

"It's all for you, baby," you slowly start to ride him, unable to resist how good it feels to be so full.

Johnny can't tear his eyes away from your face. Loving the way you lose yourself in ecstasy.

He lifts his hips to meet yours, and your eyes roll back into your skull. Too focused on how good it feels, you wrap your arm around his shoulder to balance yourself as you bounce in his lap.

Johnny's hands were all over you while his mouth traveled over your chest, biting, kissing, and licking your skin.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, bringing his lips back to yours. When you broke the kiss, Johnny's thumb softly edged your bottom lip, silently asking for entry.

You enthusiastically suck on his thumb, coating the digit in your saliva before he slips his hand between your bodies and starts rubbing your clit.

"Johnny," you gasp, "Fuck, I can't. John, I'm gonna-" Johnny slamming up into you, cut off your words.

The room seemed to grow warmer, the fires lit around the room burning brighter.

"Come on, baby. I know you wanna cum," Johnny rubbed coordinated circles on your clit with his thumb, "Be a good girl and cum for me," the vibrations of his voice shot straight to your core.

Your cries and moans were music to his ears, mixing with the sound of skin hitting skin. The knot inside you snapped, and Johnny felt your pussy choking his cock, sucking him deeper into your warm wet heat.

"Fucking hell," Johnny clenches his jaw.

You bury your face into Johnny's neck, allowing yourself to catch your breath.

You lift your head from his neck and rest your forehead against his.

"I love you," you whisper against his skin, kissing his face.

"I love you," he groans as you start rolling your hips again.

"Please, fuck me, John," you begged, "Remind me who I belong to."

Johnny threw you onto your back and pushed his cock back into you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, unable to get enough of him.

"It would be my pleasure, your majesty," he leaned down and met your lips in a kiss, slowly drawing his hips back before easing back in.

You feel every inch of him, stretching you open, fucking you nice and deep.

"More, more, more, Johnny, please!" you lift your hips to meet his.

Your husband grabbed your legs, placing them over his shoulders, folding you in half as he plowed into you.

The tip of his cock reached so deep inside, you could feel him in your stomach, rightfully rearranging your guts.

You found yourself gripping onto the sheets, pillows—anything you could get a hold of, all the pent-up longing you've held onto all this time being released after finally being reunited with your love.

You felt yourself losing more and more control as you drowned in pleasure. Vines wrapped themselves around the headboard, flowers miraculously blossoming across the room.

Johnny's chest blooms with pride, knowing he's the only one with the ability to make you feel good enough you lose control of your powers like this. Your whimpers and whines were as sweet as a prayer on his ears. It makes him slam into you harder, faster.

If you were mortal, your muscles would've screamed in relief when he lowered your legs from his shoulders but kept your knees close to your chest. His thrusts never falter, continuing to pound into you.

Your pussy clenches around his cock, feeling even tighter than before. The way he messily snaps his hips into yours, pistoning his cock in and out of your sopping hole, you knew that knot inside of him would break sooner rather than later.

Johnny watches your pussy and swallows his cock, taking him so well.

"Gods, I've missed you," he muffles your moans with his lips on yours, "And this pussy. You were fucking meant for me," he growls, his cock twitching against your gummy walls.

"Johnny," you whine.

"What is it, my love?" he slows down but continues his deep strokes.

"Please, baby, I wanna feel you," you plead.

"Cum with me," he tells you before bringing his thumb back to your clit, sloppily circling the bundle of nerves.

Your toes curled, and your fingernails dragged across Johnny's skin, hard enough to leave red streaks on his arms.

You could barely keep your eyes open, slowly blinking up at the man above you as your body approached another climax.

"That's my girl," he hums, "Cum for your King," his eyes glimmer red.

His last words toppled you over the edge, euphoria flooding your entire body. Your orgasm sent Johnny into his own, warm ropes of his cum spilling into your messy cunt.

You whimper against Johnny's lips, feeling empty as he pulls out of you. He lays beside you, grabbing one of your legs and placing it over himself to keep you close. Neither of you caring about the mess of bodily fluids and flower petals all over the bed.

"Fuck, I've missed you," you crash your lips into his.

You pull yourself up into Johnny's lap, his hands holding your waist. You grab onto his hair, making him crane his neck up at you as you slip your tongue into his mouth, your lover sucking on the wet muscles.

You both pull away, catching your breath but staying close enough you're sharing the same oxygen.

"You really aren't trying to waste any time, huh," he asked, nudging your nose with his.

You shake your head, wrapping your arms around him.

"186 days. I've wasted enough."

a/n: I know it's been a minute but seriously life has been fucking crazy and exhausting so, sorry about that. but thank you for reading and feedback is appreciated <33

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thisonehere · 4 months

Note

Hello! I really like how you write the boys, I'd like to request a smut one with them being the receiving end? Perhaps a prostate massage from their s/o? I would love to see Bi-han and Johnny Cage but you can also choose others I'd love to see them too!

Thank you and have a lovely day c:

Omg, Yes! I'll do it! :D

A totally normal Prostate Exam

NSFW HEADKANONS A/N: I'm so sorry for the wait, I hope you enjoyed this. Oh, and Merry Christmas and a horny new year lol Tags: MK1, MK1 AU, C/w: NSFW, Anal sex, fingering, pet names, dom!sex, mentions bodily fluids, you make them your b!tch, not fully proofread, g/n reader Characters: Bi-Han, Johnny Cage, Kung Lao, Tomas, Shang Tsung Next part

Bi-Han

As Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, Bi-Han has always been a very dominant man. Especially when it came to you and the sex. He would always put you into specific positions where he had all the power and then he'd fuck you sore.

But this time, things are different. You want to try something different with him. Namely, you wanted your finger inside him.

Bi-Han was against this very concept at first. The very idea even offends him, the idea of you dominating him infuriates him and goes as far as offending him. Maybe he'll even give you the silent treatment for days. But as more time passes, the idea begins to intrigue him more and more. The idea grew more and more enticing and he finally gave in to the temptation.

Pulling you into a room, Bi-Han was sure to shut and lock the doors and cover the mirrors. He didn't want a single soul to see or know about this except you.

Finally comfortable knowing that anyone would see him, Bi-Han took off his clothes and lies on the bed, revealing his plump ass to you.

As you enter him, you can hear Bi-Han struggling to stifle his gasps. "Keep going." He demands though. As you continue, you notice him fighting too keep in moans as he balls his clutches at the sheets.

The room gets colder, no doubt a result of Bi-Han loosing control of his powers as you finger fuck him. You start to get faster and faster as time goes on. Bi-Han struggles even harder to hold in his whines as the feeling starts to overwhelm him.

The climax finally comes, Bi-Han can no longer hold back anymore. His hot semen spills it onto the bed and slowly sinks into the mattress. He raises his head abruptly and basically screams in pleasure. His cries are so loud that you are sure that it echoes off the walls, making sure that everybody heard him.

You pull out your fingers finally and Bi-Han collapses onto his stomach. He faintly looks up at you, a bit of embarrassment can be sensed on his face. "That was... adequate, Y/n." He attempts a compliment, obviously flustered as blush slowly develops onto his face.

Johnny Cage

When you first proposed the idea, Johnny almost bent over right then and there. At the end of the day, Johnny is very much a freak. Name anything kinky and he'll no doubt be into it.

He would insist that you do it right then and there, he could care less where you were, on a movie set, the royal palace, the Wu Shi academy, the man lacks public decency.

Finally finding the perfect place to do it, Johnny would insist that you record him, he wanted everything to be captured.

He took off his clothes excitedly, even tearing off some of his clothes in the process. If there is a bed, he throws himself onto the bed and rolls onto his back. He lifted his legs to reveal the tight, little hole in his big round ass. It pulsed, eager awaiting your touch.

Johnny moans as he feels your fingers enter him. "That's it, baby, fuck me." He whimpers, fully embracing your touch. He grabs his cock and begins to masturbate, perfectly in sync with your rhythm.

He laughs. "You're pretty good, Y'n, are sure this is your first time or are you holding out on me?" he jokes.

You get faster and faster and so does he, he's not exactly a screamer but he doesn't hesitate to let loud moans and whining as you get closer and closer to the climax.

Finally, seen spill out of his dick and it gets all over him. Painting his body with the hot sticky fluid.

He wipes it off and immediately goes to look at the the footage you recorder. As he reviews it, he looks at you with a smile. "Well, baby, looks like we got something award winning on our hands."

*Holiday Bonuses*

Kung Lao

Kung Lao laughed it off at first. You? Top him? He didn't think so.

But as he began to think about it, his pride began to get the better of him. Could you fuck him better than he can you? That thought would cloud his head and distract him almost every day.

Kung Lao finally succumbs to the curiosity and before you know it, he's on his back with his legs in the air, his nice ass laid out perfectly before you.

"Alright, Y/n, let's get this over with. But don't be disappointed when you don't get it right. After all, no can fuck better than the great Kung la-OOOHHHH!" you stick your finger inside of him before he can finish boasting. He gasps in surprise at the touch of your fingers suddenly inside of him, rubbing his anal walls.

Kung Lao attempts to play it cool at first, trying to pretend as it didn't feel as good as it actually is.

He grips at the sheets, doing his damnedest to contain his composure. He tightly shuts his mouth to prevent any moan. He can't allow you to know that he's enjoying this.

He looks at you and forces out a smile. "Okay, maybe you are pretty okay. But this is nothing compared to the way I fuck you." And with that, you go at a faster pace.

Kung Lao's eyes grow wide with surprise, he lets out a slight squeal at this. He can't even think straight anymore. Finally, he cums. The semen spills out and spreads across his body, glistening against his abs.

He struggles to catch his breath as he tries to contain you composure. His cheeks are flushed and he is dizzy. He slightly gets up to look you trying to smile, but you fucked him so hard that he can't help but feel emasculated by you. "That was-um- n-nice. Uh, how about you come here? I'll show you what a good finger-fuck feels like."

Tomas

His face is red with blush the moment you suggest this. During sex, he was never really submissive, but he wasn't dominant either. It isn't hard to convince him, he immediately gives in when see's how excited you are to try it.

He undresses and lies down onto his stomach, anxiously looking back at you. His beautiful ass sits there before you, it quivers at your touch.

As you plunge your fingers into it, Tomas throws his face into the bed, grips the sheets, and lets out a muffled scream in surprise. "K-Keep going, you're doing great." he attempts to encourage you.

You continue to finger him, pulling in and out at a steady tempo. Tomas slowly adjusts to this feeling, it starts to feel better and better as you continue.

He whimpers and whines from the pleasure he is receiving. He thinks to himself that if just your fingers could do this to him, what would something bigger do to him, say, a dick?

He looks back at you and smiles. "You're doing amazing, I love you so much." His endearing smiles encourage you to go on.

You go faster and faster, Tomas's moans soon turn into screams. His climax is getting closer and closer, he starts making inaudible sounds that make no sense. It's like he's speaking gibberish.

Soon he cums finally. His hot seed splashes and squirts everywhere. Onto his body, onto the mattress, it even finds it's way onto you.

And with that finished, Tomas lied on his back for minutes as he catches his breath and fully processes what just happened. He sits up and looks at you with an innocent smile, as if he wasn't fingered just a few moment ago. "Maybe we should, um, do more of this. I'd love for you to do more stuff to me, maybe I could even do some stuff to you." He says with his innocent smile. It seems that you've awoken something in him, and might never go back to sleep.

Shang Tsung

When you suggest such a thing to Tsung, he doesn't refuse at all, in fact even is kind of into it. Tsung is quite a freak himself, evening going as far as insisting that Quan Chi and a few of his other servants watch.

With a snap of his finger you two are suddenly naked and gets onto his back and spreads his legs. "Be sure to not waste my time, poppet, or else I'll have to... punish you.". You shiver, you know how ruff Tsung lies to get when he punishes you.

You stare at his delicious ass as it pulses, inviting you inside. You stick your fingers in and Tsung purrs.

He takes his giant cock into his hand and starts to masturbate and locks eyes with you.

You begin to thrust harder and faster causing Tsung to let out what sounded like a laugh mixed with moaning. He makes a strange gesture and you suddenly feels something inside your own ass. The bastard out spell on you to make you feel like you were being fingered too. Not that you were complaining.

You both start to moan loudly and in sync, you hear Quan Chi and the others chuckling and you notice that they are playing with themselves as they watch you.

Tsung makes a gesture with his hand and your head swivels over back to him. "Focus, Y/n, you'll get your turn to fuck them in just a second. First, you fuck me."

And with that, you both feel your climaxes coming. You cum and so does Tsung... onto you. He castes a spell which caused both of your semen to spill to splash onto you. Your covered with his hot jizz as it drenches you and makes you sticky all over.

Tsung Laugh as he magic his clothes back onto him, but not you. "That was beautiful, Poppet. In fact, why don't I have my boys show you my appreciation." He said with cocky smirk.

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kwanisms · 11 months

Text

The Library of Illusion — Lord of the Castle on the Hill

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➮ feudal lord!San × fem!Reader wc: 7.2k summary: Stumbling into the history section, Y/N soon learns she has somehow infiltrated the palace of a very wealthy feudal lord but instead of having her imprisoned or executed, the lord asks her to dine with him. The very handsome lord. genres/themes/au: smut; fantasy, historical drama, feudal era, Joseon era; non idol au, historical drama au, feudal/Joseon era au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, implied alcohol consumption, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @thesolarplanetarysystem @salty-for-suga @devilsmatches @dmnspiit @simeonswhore @yangracha @seonghwalover @atinypurr @aikyubi

ateez taglist: @2hodefender @cixrosie @pyeonghongrie-main @flowerboykun @sanjoongie @anyamaris @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @mlysalt @cinnamoon-belle @briannabk22 @is4b3ll3s @hyukssunflower @vampiirose @0325tiny @ateezstanforever @justiny @jeongwangjessmina

special tags: @thelargefrye @hwasangelbaby

join my taglists! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED.

a/n: this wasn’t easy to write. I had to restart it a couple times but finally, I found something I liked and stuck with it. A special shout out to my lovely bestie Sky☁️ cause I know you'll read this. Enjoy your San smut cause Jongho is coming ;) thank you all so much for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms.

smut warnings: waterplay (fooling around in a hot spring. do not do this lol), fingering (f receiving), edging/orgasm control, oral (f receiving), face riding (m receiving), nipple play (f receiving), light impact play (spanking, pussy slapping), marking (f receiving, m receiving), possessive!San, very light knife play (San uses a knife to cut open the front of Y/N's dress), use of pet names (baby, kitten, kitty, sweetheart), lace kink (if you squint), unprotected sex (wrap it up), cumplay (San cums on her ass and pussy and pushes some into her), and I think I got all of it. If I missed anything, please let me know!

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“I trust you were successful?”

You walked over to the desk, climbing the few steps to drop the second key on the desk before Seonghwa who looked down at the metal before looking back up with a smile. “Perfect,” he said, moving to scoop up the key and place it back inside the box before looking back up at you.

“Where to next?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. You narrowed your eyes down at him. “That’s it?” You asked, anger flowing through your veins. After what you’ve been through? That’s all he had to say?

Seonghwa stared innocently up at you.

“I’m sorry?” he asked as you walked around the desk, reaching forward to grab the front of his shirt. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through!?” You screamed, fist shaking as Seonghwa stared up at you with wide eyes.

“Aliens and spiders and massive spider creatures! Do you know what I’ve had to do to get these keys?! And you have the audacity to act like I’m just walking in there and grabbing the key before coming back!”

Seonghwa let out a sigh but you weren’t finished yet. Not by a long shot.

“I watched a man get ripped in half! I thought he was dead!”

You gestured down at your appearance. “I still have his blood all over me!”

“I’m the one out there in the field while you sit here comfortably and wait for me to come back so you can offer some witty and sarcastic remark while I’m risking my fucking life?!”

You were beyond pissed but you failed to see that Seonghwa was beyond annoyed.

In a flash, he stood up, grabbing your wrist and twisting your arm before pushing you over onto the desk, pinning you down.

“Do not test my patience, mortal,” he hissed, the heat from his breath fanning over the back of your neck. “I’m entirely aware of everything you’re doing out there. I see everything that happens in this library,” he continued in a low, gravelly voice.

“Never forget that.”

He let go of your arm, allowing you to stand up and turn to face him. You rubbed your wrist, glaring at him as your chest heaved. Seonghwa stared back just as angrily. “Now,” he said in a much calmer tone, moving to stand in front of the desk and turn to look at you.

“Where to next?”

You looked away, blinking back tears as you looked at the doors before settling on one. “That one,” you said, pointing to a door with a sign above it that read History.

Seonghwa nodded wordlessly and walked over to the door, waiting for you to join him. When you finally did, he unlocked the door and opened it. “Your life is less likely to be in danger here,” he explained as he held the door open. “Of course, it’s never safe,” he added. “You’ll never be safe in the Library.”

You walked past him into the dark hallway. “But at least there won’t be aliens or giant spider creatures,” he added as you glanced back at him. “Tread carefully,” he continued. “This may not be the science fiction or horror sections, but that doesn’t mean it’ll be any easier. Man is sometimes the most dangerous beast you’ll face.”

With that, Seonghwa shut the door with a soft click and you were left to your own devices. You turned and started down the corridor, just as before, the shelves lined your path, books and stacks of paper filling each shelf.

As you walked, the corridor seemed to grow darker and darker and as you stepped forward the books and shelves were gone in the blink of an eye and instead you were standing in a long hallway lined with rice paper walls.

Looking around, you saw lanterns providing light outside the walls and you surmised it was night time wherever you had been transported. Continuing on, your boots echoed against the wooden floor. Not a soul in sight as you went on.

You finally reached the end of the hall and slid open the door. Beyond was a vast courtyard complete with a rock garden, manicured bushes, trees, and even a beautiful pond with a small gazebo.

You walked down the stone steps and looked around. You were inside some sort of castle complex. A palace it seemed. As you continued on, you looked around, noticing how the only light came from lanterns and the moon. Not even the stars were visible which you found strange.

‘Where am I? Why aren’t there any stars?’

“You there!” A voice called, causing you to jump and turn around.

A man stood behind you, dressed in armor. ‘A guard?’

“Who are you?” The man asked. “How did you get in here?”

You found yourself unable to speak, too stunned.

Backing away slowly, the man seemed to think you were about to bolt. “Halt!”

Following your gut, you took off in the opposite direction.

‘Curse that damn Seonghwa.’

You darted through the garden, dodging plants and rocks as you went. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw your pursuer was joined by another guard.

You jumped over a low stone wall and turned the corner only to run into another guard who was quick to grab you. The other two caught up as the one pinned your arms behind your back and your wrists were quickly bound.

“Bring her to the Lord!”

You were hoisted up to your feet and pushed along as two guards led the way while the third, the one that caught you, brought up the rear.

The walk across the complex was short and the maze of corridors long until the doors were opened and you were pushed into a room full of men. All the men were wearing robes of varying colors as they looked up from papers and towards the door as you were shown in.

“What’s this?” one of the men, an older gentleman with a pointed gray beard asked, looking from the guards to you and back. “Found her near the garden,” the first guard said. “She tried to run but we caught her.”

Another man looked up from his papers, thick brows furrowing in anger. “A spy!” he roared. You shook your head. “I’m not a spy!” you shouted only for a heavy blow to hit your stomach, causing you to double over in pain. “Silence!”

“You know what we do to spies,” the gray bearded man sneered.

“Execution!” another man shouted to murmurs of excitement.

You looked up, eyes wide with fear. ‘Seriously? Safer? Fuck you, Seonghwa!’

“Yes, execution!” an older man with white hair and facial hair cried. As the shouts for your execution grew, another voice rang out.

“SILENCE!”

You glanced up to the front of the room, sitting atop a platform with steps leading up was a much younger man than the others in the room. He had shorter black hair and wore dark blue silks. He had cat-like eyes as he peered around the room.

“But sire,” another man said. The man atop the platform turned his eyes upon the man, glaring at him. “Hold your tongue or I’ll have it cut out,” the man said, his underling shying away instantly.

Your stomach churned as the young man turned his attention upon you.

“Bring her here,” he instructed, his voice no longer loud but still just as commanding. One of the guards grabbed your bound wrists and pulled you up, a sharp pain shooting through your arm. You hissed in pain.

“I said ‘bring her,’” the young man ordered. “Not ‘break her arm.’”

The guard apologized and helped you to your feet, escorting you to the base of the platform. “Unbind her,” he said. The guards exchanged looks before one carefully undid the ropes binding your wrists.

Your eyes wandered, landing on something that glistened in the light of the lanterns. It was the same old metal you’d seen in the other sections. The same old metal Seonghwa held in his pocket.

‘The key.’

It hung on a hook next to the young man. Clearly it was something he held in high regard and protected. ‘He must be the Guardian!’

You blinked, realizing he was speaking to you.

“Come here,” the younger man said to you, his tone much softer now.

“Sire, I must protest!” one of the older men said. “She could be an assassin!”

The younger man narrowed his eyes on the speaker. “I seriously doubt that. What kind of assassin gets caught this easily?”

He turned his gaze back to you, expression softening instantly.

“Come here,” he said again, beckoning you forward.

Slowly, you ascended the steps, stopping on the second or third, bringing you eye level with the man. “Will you tell me the truth?” he asked to which you nodded wordlessly. “Are you a spy?” he asked. You shook your head. “If I was, I wouldn’t be a very good one, would I?” you answered to his amusement.

“And you aren’t an assassin?” he asked, tilting his head. You shook yours again. “No,” you replied. “I can’t even kill a spider.”

The man smiled, holding out at hand for you to take. You took it without hesitation and allowed him to pull you up onto the platform and guide you to take a seat. “You might want to rethink that,” he said softly, drawing your attention. “Most of these men are no different than spiders or snakes.”

His lips drew into a smirk, prompting you to return the smile.

“Sire, this is most unusual,” one of the men said. The man beside you dropped his smile and turned his head to look at the speaker. “I don’t remember asking for your opinion,” he said, the same annoyed tone back in his voice.

Clearly he didn’t like these men if the way he spoke to them compared to you was anything to go by. “It is late, leave us,” the man said before turning to one of the guards. “You stay.”

The room cleared as the men gathered up their papers and followed one another out of the room in a single file fashion, some murmuring and whispering as two of the three guards left the room, shutting the doors behind them.

“What is your name?” the man asked, drawing your attention.

“Oh, I’m Y/N,” you answered softly, looking at his smiling face. He turned to look at the only remaining guard. “Please have a room prepared for Y/N and ask the attendants to draw a bath for her,” he instructed. The guard nodded and exited the room through a side door as the man turned back to you.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said with a genuine smile.

“I’m San and this is my castle.”

“Your c-castle?” you stammered. San’s smile widened, a certain fondness in his eyes. “Yes,” he answered. “Are you some sort of emperor or something?” you asked curiously. San chuckled, shaking his head. “No,” he answered. “A lord, actually.” Your eyes widened. ‘A lord? Were you supposed to bow? Or curtesy? How did you greet a lord?’

“I didn’t know,” you simply replied. San chuckled again. “It would seem you don’t know much about where you are,” he said, tilting his head. “How did you end up in my castle without anyone seeing you enter?”

Figuring it would be better if you feigned ignorance, you shrugged. “I don’t remember,” you lied. “I woke up in a long corridor and at the end was a door and when I opened it, I was here.”

You had no way of knowing whether or not San believed you but when he didn’t press further, you considered yourself lucky.

Before San had the chance to answer, a guard returned.

“A room has been prepared in the east wing,” he said. “The attendants are drawing a bath as we speak.” San sighed and turned back to look at you. “Let me show you around.”

The tour consisted of San showing you from a distance parts of his compound. It was much larger than you previously assumed but it was very pretty, even in the dark. It was obvious there was chemistry between the two of you and the tension between you was more than palpable.

The walk to your room didn’t take long and as you reached the door, San pulled you to a stop.

“Y/N, I’d like it if you'd join me for dinner,” he said, catching you off guard. “D-dinner?” You mentally kicked yourself for stuttering like an idiot.

San nodded. “If you’d rather eat alone, I understand,” he replied. You shook your head quickly. “No! I’d like to join you,” you stammered. The smile that spread across his face made your heart leap into your throat.

“Perfect. Bathe, dress, and then you will be shown to the dining hall,” he replied before giving you a small bow, eyeing you up and down once before turning to walk down the corridor, his guard in tow.

You pulled open the door and were greeted by two smiling faces. They were the attendants San must have called for. Both were dressed in traditional dresses in pastel colors. “Come, Miss,” one of them said, beckoning you to follow.

The room you’d been shown to was a suite of some sort. It was a large rectangular room with wood decor and furniture. The bed stood on a platform, a large round window on the wall behind. “The bath is over here.”

You were led out of the room to a small private hot spring.

“Please undress and we will help bathe you,” one of the attendants said. You felt suddenly self conscious as they both moved about.

You carefully and slowly undressed, setting your clothes aside. As one of the women grabbed your clothes, you turned to her. “Please don’t throw those away,” you blurted out. “And leave the undergarments, please.”

She gave you a shocked look before complying. She left your underwear but took the other clothes, promising to have them washed and returned.

The bathing process was much different than you were used to and after you were cleaned, you were finally allowed to dip into the hot springs, sighing in relief as you did. The hot water felt amazing against your sore muscles and aching joints as you relaxed in the water. “I will come back to check on you soon,” the attendant said before drawing a curtain to offer you some privacy.

‘I could get used to this,’ you thought to yourself. ‘Except I have to find a way to get that damn key!’

You tried to force that from your mind for the time being, wanting to enjoy this as much as possible.

San walked down the hall towards the room he’d had prepared for you. It was meant to be for his wife yet San still had yet to find a wife. He knew he was young and had some time before he needed to settle so he felt the room was perfect.

Especially as it had its own private hot spring much like his own quarters.

Walking past the entrance to your private chambers, he continued down the steps and to the gardens, following a path until it branched off between some dense bamboo. San continued to walk and walk until he reached a private seating area that just so happened to overlook your private onsen.

San arrived just in time to see you already relaxing in the hot water.

He smiled to himself, watching as you closed your eyes and rested your head against the rocks. His eyes started to wander, following the curve of your neck, scanning your collar and the way your breasts dipped into the water, only the tops visible in the dark, steamy water.

Before he knew what he was doing, San started to strip, setting his clothes aside before carefully making his way into the pool, dipping below the surface with a deep breath.

You must have dozed off because you sat up abruptly, woken up by a splashing sound. Looking around, you saw the water ripple, the surface having been disturbed by something. You peered around, trying to see if you could spot what had disturbed the water but found nothing.

As you settled back against the rocky wall, you felt something brush against your leg under the water and pulled back quickly, staring wide eyed at the water. Just as you started to play it off as your imagination, something grabbed your ankle and before you could scream, a figure surfaced, another hand coming up to cover your mouth.

You were staring into the face of—

“San!” you hissed as he removed his hand, smirking at you. “What are you doing?”

He chuckled, drops of water rolling off his skin and hitting the water.

“Are you surprised?”

You glared at him before remembering you were entirely nude in the water. Bringing your hands up to cover yourself, you sputtered as you tried to save your dignity. “Y-you can’t be in here!”

He slowly drifted closer. “Why not?” he asked softly, a teasing tone to his voice as he smirked at you.

“Because! I’m bathing,” you replied. San merely shrugged.

“We can bathe together,” he replied. Your cheeks burned and not because of the hot water.

“Isn't that inappropriate?” you asked quietly.

San snickered at you. “Is sneaking into someone’s home also not inappropriate?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “I did not sneak,” you retorted. “I told you I don’t remember how I got in here.”

San offered a mischievous grin. “I don’t remember how I got in here,” he replied, making you roll your eyes. “Now you’re mocking me,” you pouted. San scooted closer, pushing your knees apart and ignoring your gasp. “Not mocking,” he replied, bringing one hand up to take your chin in his hand.

“I was inspired,” he answered. You narrowed your eyes again. “Liar,” you replied. San placed a hand over his chest. “I’m offended,” he said, sounding anything but.

“Stop mocking me!” you hissed. San chuckled, moving his hand to the back of your neck. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, eyes dipping to look at your lips. “Let me apologize.”

You knew what was coming but it still caught you off guard as his lips met yours. Before you had a chance to lean into it, you pushed him back. “What about the attendants?” San nuzzled your nose gently. “They won’t come in here unless I tell them to,” he murmured, taking your lips in another soft kiss.

You melted against him, hands moving up to his shoulders. “Tell me to stop and I will,” you heard him whisper. Shaking your head, you kissed him again. “Don’t stop.” San let out a groan, one of his hands ducking below the surface of the water and skimming down your chest and stomach, dipping between your thighs.

“Say it again,” he said breathlessly. “Say it.”

He pulled back to meet your gaze, pupils dilated. “Don’t stop,” you repeated, moaning as he pulled you into another kiss, his fingers finding your clit and starting to circle it slowly. You moaned against his lips, thighs squeezing around his hips as his fingers worked you up, barely slipping into your aching core.

“San,” you breathed. “Please don’t tease me.”

San chuckled against your skin, peppering kisses down your neck. “Keep begging me and I’ll consider it,” he replied. You whined, hips seeking more friction against his fingers but San pulled them away, his hand moving up to cup your breast.

“Beg for it,” he repeated. “Beg for my fingers, kitten.”

You moaned as he massaged your breasts, kneading them carefully. “Please San,” you whispered. “Louder,” San replied. “Beg for it, kitten.”

“P-please,” you stuttered. San chuckled darkly, taking your lips in a searing kiss as he sank his fingers into your cunt with a sigh. “So warm,” he murmured. “I can’t wait to fuck you.”

You hadn’t entered the history section with the intention to fuck the guardian but then again, you hadn’t intended to fuck the other guardians either but stranger things had indeed happened.

You let out a whine against his lips. “Would you like that?” San asked as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out of your pussy. “You want me to fill this pretty little pussy with my cock and fuck you?”

You nodded, eyes fluttering shut as you felt his thumb draw circles against your clit, his fingers inside your cunt curling and coaxing you towards orgasm.

“Say it,” San whispered, watching your face contort with pleasure. “Say you want my cock inside you. Tell me you want me to fuck you and make you mine.”

“Yes,” you gasped, walls clenching around his fingers as he pressed light kisses to your cheek. “I want your cock inside me, San. I want you to fuck me. Fuck me hard and fill me up. I want you to make me yours.”

San growled, fingers moving faster as he rested his forehead against your temple. “M’gonna fuck you so good, kitten,” he murmured, curling his fingers against your walls.

Your orgasm was just within your reach, your moans growing in pitch before San pulled away, his fingers leaving your cunt aching and wanting more. “San!” you hissed as he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Sorry, kitten,” he cooed. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

Without another word, San climbed out of the water, grabbing a robe and disappearing behind the curtain. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment as you went over what just happened in your head, only three words coming to mind.

‘Desperate. Pathetic. Whore.’

Once you were dried off and dressed, you were escorted to the room where you would be dining with San. You spent the entire walk over composing yourself and attempting to seem indifferent to the way he left you hanging.

Once shown inside, you took a seat and waited for San to arrive, surprised he wasn’t already there. The room was long and skinny with 20 places to sit. You suddenly wondered if you’d be dining with more than just San.

The quiet allowed you time to think. To plan.

Just how were you going to get the key? No doubt that room was heavily guarded so there’s no way you were going to just walk in and take it. You’d have to apply a bit more cunning to the situation.

One of the doors slid open and San entered the room, dressed in a different outfit but much like the one he’d been wearing when you first met him earlier. San moved to take his seat and looked up, noticing how far away you sat. He cleared his throat before nodding to the seat adjacent to him.

Looking around, you noticed the guard standing by the door nearest you. He wasn’t looking at you but you knew he was paying full attention. Getting up slowly, you walked down the room to your new seat and sat down.

“How do you expect us to talk when you’re sitting so far away?” San asked as the door across from you opened and several servants walked in, carrying different plates and platters.

You watched as they set them down, arranging them neatly on the table before moving and disappearing out the door they entered. The guard stepped out and shut the door, leaving just you, San, and one guard in the room.

“Please,” San said, gesturing to the food. “I’m sure you’re hungry.”

You thanked him and dug in immediately, not realizing just how starving you were. While you ate, San watched you closely, eating at his own pace. You felt very self conscious, having him watch you eat like that.

"So you really cannot tell me how you got into my castle?" San asked as he lifted his cup, taking a sip of sake. You shook your head silently.

How were you supposed to explain it? You were transported from a magical library? Or that all of this land, this entire world, was in the Library? How would he not think you were crazy after that?

No, it was better you simply pretend you didn't know.

San watched you carefully as you ate in silence. You glanced up, meeting his gaze and a smile slowly spread across his face. "You can tell me, you know? I'm not going to judge you."

Your heart leapt into your throat, like you'd been caught, almost as if he'd been reading your mind, listening to your thoughts. You still said nothing as you ate and drank silently. San continued to watch you, making you feel anxious, almost as if he was working everything out in his head.

Finally, he spoke again.

"I promise you can tell me anything," he said as he leaned in, keeping his eyes trained on you. His close proximity made your skin grow warm, heat creeping up into your face as you shifted nervously in your seat.

"Even if it seems impossible or outlandish," San continued, reaching a hand out to place over yours. "You can tell me."

The moment his skin met yours, it was like a fire was ignited in your veins. A desire not unlike what you'd experienced in the other sections. A deep, carnal craving bubbled from the pit of your stomach, your thighs clenching together under the skirt of the hanbok San had graciously lent you.

Your skin erupted into a thousand bumps, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end. It took every ounce of willpower not to jump the man. That would only end poorly.

Instead, you pulled your hand from his quickly and apologized and continued to eat, taking a sip of your drink.

Sensing the subject needed, changing, San provided just that.

“I do apologize about earlier,” San said, prompting you to look up, meeting his gaze. “It wasn’t very nice of me, leaving you like that,” he continued. You lifted your glass to take a sip and nearly choked as you felt his hand pushing the skirt of your dress up. “Shh,” he whispered, eyes flickering to the guard and back to you.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he said softly when you glared at him. You shook your head. “Shall I keep going, then?” You nodded, biting into your bottom lip when you felt his fingers skim against the skin of your inner thigh.

“Keep quiet, baby,” he murmured, moving his hand to scoot your seat closer to him before his hand darted under your skirt again. You’d chosen to put your lace underwear back on and you were glad you did because as soon as his fingers met the material, his eyes widened, eyebrows raising as he felt around, inspecting.

“What is that?” he whispered. “Lace?” You nodded at him, resisting the urge to giggle. “Lace undergarments? I’ve never heard of such a thing before.”

Looking away from your face, San cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the only remaining guard. “Please step outside and do a perimeter check,” he ordered. The guard hesitated before nodding and exiting the room, shutting the door behind him.

As soon as the door shut, San stood up, grabbing your wrist and pulling you up, dragging you away from your seats to the other end of the table. “Up,” he ordered, pushing the place settings out of the way, ignoring the plates and utensils that fell to the floor. You climbed up, settling on the table at the end.

San pushed your skirt up, pulling the chair up and taking a seat between your spread legs. He pushed your skirt higher, exposing your lace covered core to his gaze and instantly letting out a groan.

He peered down at them curiously. “It really is lace,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice as he lightly brushed his fingers over the material.

Your cheeks burned even hotter. “Y-yes,” you answered. San looked up to meet your gaze. “Lace undergarments,” he repeated. “I’ve really never heard of anything like that before.” His eyes moved back down to your lace covered core. “It sure doesn’t leave much to the imagination,” he added.

You nodded. “Lace is usually see through,” you reminded him, highly embarrassed to be explaining but also extremely turned on.

“Well,” he said softly. “These need to come off,” he added, sliding his hands up your thighs and grabbing the waistband of your panties. “May I remove them?”

You nodded much too quickly but you didn’t care at this point. You were dripping, soaking the black lace and ready to explode at any second. San luckily didn’t make a show of it and instead dragged them down as you lifted your hips.

Your cheeks burned as he held them up to inspect.

“They’re so… thin,” he said softly.

“San,” you whined, pulling your skirt up and showing him your glistening core. His eyes dipped down to look and he immediately grabbed your hips, your lace panties still in his hand. “Lay back for me, baby,” he instructed, tongue peeking out to lick his lips.

You did as he said, leaning back, propping yourself on your elbows as he pulled your hips closer to the edge of the table. “Don’t hold back,” he said suddenly, looking up to meet your gaze. “No one cares if they can hear you.”

Your cheeks burned as San’s head disappeared under your skirt. “This is highly inappropriate,” you said breathlessly.

San chuckled lightly, hands grabbing your hips and holding you in place as he licked his lips. “It is,” he answered, eyeing your glistening sex before looking up to meet your gaze. “But I’ve decided I really don’t care.”

Without another word, he ducked his head, licking a slow strip up your slit, the tip of his tongue meeting your clit and toying with it. You let out a low moan, head falling back as his tongue explored your core, groaning at the taste.

You whined as he pulled away, his hands moved, spreading your folds before diving back in and attacking your clit with his tongue, suckling on the sensitive nub. Your back met the mattress as you fell back, chest heaving as San continued to lick and suck on your clit, teasing you and drawing whimpers and moans from you.

“S-San,” you moaned as your head fell back. “Keep doing that,” he murmured. “I like the way you say my name.” You gasped as you felt his hand make contact with your clit, giving it a light slap. “Say my name,” he said again.

“San!” You cried out as he gave your cunt another harsh smack. “That’s it,” he murmured before ducking his head again, tongue flicking mercilessly against your clit before spreading your folds again, exposing your hole to him.

His tongue moved down to your entrance, licking into it and making you groan as he pushed further into your cunt. The wet sounds of him eating you out like a man who hadn’t had a meal in years made your cheeks burn with an intensity you weren’t used to. It felt almost as if you had a fever.

‘What is this? Why does he have such an effect on me?’

“Oh shit,” you gasped, one of your hands moving to comb through his dark locks. You felt him smirk against your cunt as he continued to tease and toyed with your clit, lewd wet sounds filling the room as he suckled on the sensitive nub.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you groaned, spreading your thighs a little more for San. You let out a squeal as you felt his teeth lightly graze the sensitive skin. San’s arms moved around your thighs, holding you in place as he continued to lick and suck. The flicks against your clit continued to draw you closer and closer to orgasm, your thighs and abdomen twitching as San teased you to the edge.

Before you could cum, he stopped, pulling back much to your chagrin. “Saaan,” you whined, head falling back before looking back down between your thighs as he wiped his chin with the back of his hand. “Put your feet here,” he instructed, patting the arms of the chairs.

You followed his instructions, uncertain of what he was going to do. “I want you to ride my face,” he continued. “Do not stop until you’ve come.” Your cheeks burned as you nodded, watching him lower his mouth to your cunt once more, tongue instantly moving against your clit.

Your head fell back again, a moan escaping your lips as your hips started to move, using the arm rests of the chair for leverage. San kept a firm hold on your skirt, matching your movements with his head. “Shit,” you hissed, your fingers tangling in his hair again as you grinded against his tongue, mewls, whimpers and moans leaving your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you groaned as your orgasm rapidy approached before finally crashing over you as your thighs shook, hips continuing to move and ride out your climax until you started shuddering.

San pulled back as your back hit the table top, breathing heavily.

San stood up, moving to undo his top and pulling it back. “Come here,” he growled, pulling you up and into a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You could taste yourself on his lips, groaning into the kiss.

“San,” you moaned against his lips. “I need you.” He pulled back, moving one hand down to undo his pants, pulling at the ties. “You need me? What do you need, kitten. Tell me what you need.”

You laid back on the table, pulling the skirt up to your waist and reaching between your thighs to spread yourself. “I need your cock,” you whined. “Right here. I need it inside me.” San let out a groan, pushing the fabric of his pants down and pulling his hard cock free. You didn’t get the chance to see it from this angle as he quickly stroked himself a few times before lining the tip with your entrance.

“You need it that badly, baby?”

You nodded, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “I need it so bad. Need you to fill me up. Bury your thick cock inside me and fuck me.” San growled as he grabbed your hip, pushing the head of his cock into your wet hole.

You let out a hiss as San sank further into you, fingers digging into the cloth of his shirt. “Fuck,” you heard him growl. “So fucking tight,” he sighed. He gave you a tentative thrust, groaning as your walls squeezed him, hugging his cock.

You grabbed onto his shirt, pulling yourself up into a sitting position, one hand moving to steady yourself on the table. San gave you another tentative thrust and he quickly set a steady pace, one hand moving down to pull your hips closer so you were almost hanging off the edge of the table.

“Ah! Right there,” you gasped, feeling the head of his cock hit a soft gummy spot deep inside your walls. San gave you a measured, angled thrusts, chuckling when you cried out. “Right there?” he asked as you held onto his shirt tightly.

Each thrust had your ass bumping against the table, the wood creaking beneath you as San pounded into you. You let out a yelp as his fingers tangled in your hair, pulling your head to the side to expose your neck which he immediately sank his teeth into, making you moan as he bit and sucked on the sensitive flesh.

“Keep doing that,” you heard him whisper as your walls clenched around him. “Fuck, keep doing that, kitten.” You pulled him closer, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Don’t stop,” you moaned. “Ah, fuck, don’t stop!”

When San was satisfied that your neck was marked sufficiently, you were quick to return the favor, pulling the fabric of his coat aside and leaving bites and marks on his shoulder and part of his chest, enjoying the way he moaned and growled into your skin.

You let out a squeak as he pushed you down, your back hitting the table as he grabbed a nearby knife. Your heart hammered in your chest as you watched him pick up the utensil but relief flooded your senses as he used the knife to cut the middle of your dress open before tossing it aside.

With the fabric out of the way, his lips wrapped around one of your nipples, tongue flicking against the bud quickly as his hips continued to move, slamming into you with renewed vigor. “Shit, feel so good,” you groaned as his cock dragged against your walls, allowing you to feel every ridge and vein.

“You like how my cock feels, kitten?” He murmured against your chest, leaving a wet trail of kisses from one breast to the other as he took your other nipple in his mouth, tongue lapping at it as his thrusts grew more erratic.

“You gonna keep talking or you gonna fuck me properly?” you retorted.

Almost as quickly as he’d started, San pulled back, his cock slipping out of your cunt. He quickly set you down on your feet. “Turn around,” he growled, spinning you to face the table before hiking up your skirt and pushing you down onto the wood as he took his cock in his hand, lining back up with your hole and pushing back into you.

As soon as he was back inside, he resumed the same relentless pace, gathering your skirt up and pushing it up to your waist, exposing your back to him. You let out a cry as you felt his hand strike your ass once. When your walls gripped his cock, he knew he was doing something right.

“Of course,” he huffed, sounding slightly amused. He gave your ass another smack, groaning as your cunt tightened around him. “Kitten likes to be punished?” he asked, taking hold of your hips, moving faster, the sound of your skin hitting his filling the room. “Mhm,” you moaned.

“I like being punished,” you answered. San let out a breathless laugh.

“Such a naughty little kitty.”

You felt his hands spread your cheeks and then a cold wet sensation against your asshole.

“What’re you—hng!” you moaned as you felt his thumb slip into your unused hole. “San!” you gasped as he kept his thumb still, his hips still pistoning, driving his cock in and out of you.

You pushed yourself up, peering over your shoulder at him. Your orgasm was close and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer at the rate he was moving. You planted your palms, pushing back to meet his thrusts, moans and mewls leaving your lips with each pound.

San let out a deep moan, removing his thumb and grabbing your skirt with one hand while the other grabbed your shoulder, pushing your chest against the hard wood of the table.

“Be a good kitty,” San growled, hips smacking your ass with each thrust, whimpers leaving your lips with each thrust.

“And stay down for me.”

You were suddenly reminded of how Yunho had pushed you down, ordering you to stay down and your walls clenched, remembering the way his alien cock had felt inside you.

The image had you coming with a moan, your cunt convulsing around San’s cock and string of curses leaving your lips. San had a hard time helping you ride out your high. Your walls constricted around him, hugging his cock tightly as he continued to ram into you.

You gasped, breath coming out in heavy pants.

“S-San,” you whimpered. “Don’t stop, fuck don’t stop!”

You heard him chuckle, one of his hands moving up to grab the back of your neck. “If you insist.”

You let out a scream, your hand moving up to cover your mouth as San’s hips somehow moved even faster, slamming into you repeatedly. Each thrust of his hips had you screaming in ecstasy as your cunt convulsed around his cock.

“You gonna cum, kitten?” San asked, chuckling when you nodded, unable to speak.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured. “Be a good little kitty and cum for me.”

His thrusts grew in intensity, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the room, barely drowning out your muffled cries.

Your thighs shook from the intensity of your orgasm as you whimpered, trying to keep your voice down but San growled in your ear, hips ramming into yours and pulling scream after scream as you were sent hurtling towards your next orgasm.

“Let everyone hear you,” he rasped.

“Let the whole castle know who’s fucking you this good, sweetheart.”

You could feel his cock throb inside your walls as he no doubt was close as well. “Almost,” he groaned. “Almost there.” Your second orgasm hung just over your head, needing more. Without a word, your hand moved between your thighs, fingers circling your clit in time with his thrusts just enough to push you over the edge and coming with another cry, walls gripping his cock like a vice.

The feeling of your cunt constricting around him sent San over the edge.

“Fuck, M’gonna cum,” he said, his voice low as he gave you a couple more thrusts before pulling out of you and finishing himself off, thick spurts of his release painting your bare ass and dripping onto your swollen pussy.

San let out a growl as he rutted his cock against your ass a couple times, holding onto the table for support. “Shit,” he cursed. “Look at this mess.”

You shivered as he ran his thumb over your sensitive core, smearing some of his cum as he slowly pushed some of it into your cunt. “I really wanted to fill your cunt,” he murmured, looking down at your abused pussy.

“But, fuck, you look so pretty like this.”

The clean up was rough and just when you thought San was going to send you back to your room, he produced the key. “I know you’re here for this,” he said, holding it out. “So take it.”

You thanked him, taking the key before pulling him into a kiss. “Your clothes should be in your room,” he added, reaching into his pocket and pulling your lace panties out. “But these,” he continued, pulling back as you tried to grab them.

He tucked them back into his pocket.

“These are staying with me,” he said. “If you want them back, you’ll have to come see me again,” he added with a wink.

You rolled your eyes and thanked him once more for the key before sneaking out of the room and taking the back corridor to your room where your clothes were cleaned and folded nicely on the bed. You changed quickly before sneaking back out and making your way through the garden.

It took you longer than you expected to find the door you’d entered from and soon you were hurrying down the dark corridor, relief flooding your body as the rice paper walls shifted into bookshelves and the door into the lobby came into view.

You grabbed the knob and turned it, opening the door and looking up as you entered the lobby where Seonghwa was standing, half sitting on the edge of the desk, a pocket watch in his hand.

Upon seeing you, his eyes narrowed, the smile he’d greeted you with before no longer present as he shut the lid of the pocket watch. You walked over cautiously, eyeing him with uncertainty. “So,” he said softly, still eyeing you.

“How was your trip back in time?”

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